Dating is a stage of romantic or sexual relationships in humans whereby two people meet socially, possibly as friends or with the aim of each assessing the other's suitability as a prospective partner in a more committed intimate relationship or marriage.It can be a form of courtship that consists of social activities done by the couple.So the person you’re dating has admitted they have depression. You really don’t need to change how you treat them or dramatically alter your behaviour.
It takes time and it takes work and it isn’t always easy.Self-esteem isn’t an essential need like food or water, but it’s a supplement that can either dramatically improve your life, or keep you stunted and unfulfilled.The fact is, you can only let in as much love from the outside as you feel on the inside. They’re still the person you fancy and (hopefully) love, they’re just dealing with a brain that keeps f*cking them over.We’re fine with explaining how it feels to you, but it’s really not our job to educate you on mental illness and what causes depression. I don’t cry 24/7 and I doubt that many depressed people do. We know it’s not a big deal that we’ve lost our socks. It’s just our depression muddies up any excitement or joy we’d usually feel. So don’t assume we’ve magically cured ourselves of depression because we’ve told you we’ve been fine for the last few weeks. Actually expressing that we might need medication is deeply, deeply scary.Language is powerful in itself, but a depressed person will read into what you say, take it deeply personally, and analyse it for hours until it confirms every bad thing we think about ourselves. Sometimes it gets too much and we just come along to that big party/dinner with friends/lunch with your parents. We’re not being flaky, we just don’t feel like we can do it today. Please don’t endlessly question why we’re feeling so rubbish. We can feel great and think we’ve finally got through this one day, then find ourselves in a pretty dark place (in our minds. Medication can mess things up for a bit, as can, well, just being depressed. Each reason our life is brilliant feels like a little stab in our heart, asking: ‘why aren’t you happy? We feel awful about that, and we already feel like self-obsessed oversensitive arseholes for being miserable with our comparatively brilliant lives. And we don’t need anyone confirming our belief that we’re sh*tty people.