Scared of Depression?

It should really be scared of you.

We are not taught to hang out in discomfort. [Photo credit Julie M Flanagan]

I answered my phone to a quiet and nervous friend.

“How’s it going?” I asked.

The answer, “Well… I’ve been struggling.”

My friend admitted to having crying episodes several days of the week for months. She was freaked out and didn’t want to tell anybody. She didn’t want to know what it meant.

“This has never happened,” she told me, “I’ve never felt this bad.”

What a relief to get that call! She knew I had a lot of experience with depression, anxiety, meds, and doctors. She was not the first person I had heard from in this way. People come to me frequently because I am open about the messy mental realm we like to keep silent about.

All of these conversations, as well as my own hard-learned experiences, have reinforced my understanding that:

Saying it is the hardest part.

Admitting you are struggling with mental health can be terrifying. Not only are there obnoxious stigmas, but worse, you don’t have an answer.

It’s scary to not know where you’re going. It’s scary to think you might be going to a place where crying often is normal, and where there is pain and loss.

But admitting out loud that you’re not doing well to a friend or loved one is liberating. Once the “secret” is told, its power is gone. When you finally let the pain speak, your brain opens to accepting help or assistance.

“What do I do?” is the next question.

Your body is talking

Recognize that your body and mind are sending you a message.

Slow down. Take some time. It is essential that you decide you are going to listen. When your body is feeling emotionally sick, you need to take a sick day.

Nope, no excuses. Email your work or any obligation that is feasible to take a break from. Sure there’s that voice in your head saying, “If I don’t finish it, it won’t get done right,” and “You’re just being weak,” or one of my favorites, “Just think of all of those people who have it worse!”

Damn. That voice is kind of an as*hole. Maybe you should tell it that.

Afterward, keep getting creative about how to take a breather from obligations and give yourself the day to recognize you’re not ok and to rest. Think of this day as a freebie. It’s a bonus day. Do whatever you want. Lay in bed and watch TV. Take a long drive to nowhere. Take a long drive to somewhere. Sit in the sun. Bake something. Order delivery. Eat a whole pizza…

No “shoulds.”

No worries about “productivity.”

This is your day. Go all-out Ferris Bueler!

It’s not called “fixing”

So now you are tuning into your struggles. That’s an awesome step! If that is where it ends for now, then you’ve wildly succeeded! We are not taught to hang out in discomfort.

Now you can realize you don’t need to feel “good” all of the time. Your body knows when you’re lying, so maybe give it a little facetime and hear it out.

You may want to start “fixing things.” Well, you can. But I suggest changing that damn word, “fixing.”

Where you are is perfect. No “fixing” is required.

I once used a jogging metaphor to explain this to an overwhelmed friend.

“You’re not behind!” I told her, “The race hasn’t even started yet! I know it feels like it started 15 minutes ago. I know it feels like you have a mile to go to reach the starting line. But who are you trying to beat anyway? What would you even win? Also, I hate to tell you this, but there isn’t even a race happening.”

Do you wish things were different? Uh, yeah.

Do you feel like the world is a hellscape? Yes.

Do you have no idea how to feel better? I don’t.

Do you feel like you’re completely losing it? Yes!

This is really, really normal.

And that’s the best part. Because now you get to try something different.

What if nothing has gotten better?

Should you be worried? Not usually. The issues — the things bothering you — have been with you for a long time now. They’re not new.

The part that may be new is that you don’t have things to distract yourself. Not like you used to. Without being able to go out to work, out to eat, out anywhere… It can feel like you just have to sit here in that painful puss of grief and depression.

This is sometimes called “the shadow side.”

It’s the underbelly of each of our lives; it’s what we see when the polarity of the world flips (metaphorically, I’m pretty sure), and you’re left staring in the mirror at a person you don’t recognize. A person that maybe you don’t love. Or at least one you don’t like.

But what do I do? This is unbearable!

Look at it from a few directions. This is not the first time in the world this has happened!

Society has a lot of ideas about how you should “get better.” Yes, we all know we should meditate, do yoga, go jogging, be with loved ones…

Well, maybe pick one of those to work on. But also remember the point is to “turn the volume up” on your body. Become aware of small pains, hesitations, non-physical sensations, etc. Is there something you are craving? Is there something you are dreading?

When you feel freaked: Stop what you’re doing. Set your alarm for 8 minutes. Vow to be still until that alarm sounds. Close your eyes.

Ask your body. Pretend your body is another person. What is the first thing it would say? The second thing? The last thing? What is it trying to keep hidden?

I promise after 8 minutes, you can stop! If you don’t find it useful, you never have to do it again. But isn’t it worth a try? After all, it’s just 8 minutes. Starting that conversation with yourself in the stillness could be the start of beautiful healing.

Transitions

In a modern parable I like about times of transition, a writer compares life to a series of trapeze swings. The trapeze bars are life’s chapters, and the space between each swing is the quick yet timeless period of transition. The writer is unknown; perhaps we are all writing it. As The Parable of the Trapeze Swinger goes,

“Each time, I am filled with terror. It doesn’t matter that in all my previous hurtles across the void of unknowing I have always made it. I am each time afraid that I will miss, that I will be crushed on unseen rocks in the bottomless chasm between bars.”

Yes, it is like that! If we feel, we are feeling that.

Say it! Read that out loud. Scream! How does it feel?

Terrible?

Yeah, it freaking sucks.

“…[W]ith all the pain and fear and feelings of being out of control that can (but not necessarily) accompany transitions, they are still the most alive, most growth-filled, passionate, expansive moments in our lives.”

Ok. Shit, you think. That kind of makes sense. But I still feel like my life is falling apart!

Don’t make decisions from a place of fear.

So the doctor gave you some psych meds… I understand you’re freaked out.

Remember: There is no fixing. It is impossible to “fix” a person.

It’s essential to make this decision from a place of grounded reasoning, and not from a place of fear.

Maybe the meds can be helpful, maybe not. Maybe deciding to take meds is not the decision that actually needs addressing. Maybe the decision is about a change you know you need to make, a small conversation to start, an issue you need to look square in the eye.

Slowing down may bring issues more easily to the surface.

Once you know what’s happening a bit deeper down, the fear lessens. And then, when you feel less afraid, you can decide about meds.

You know your body and mind better than anybody else. I bet you have an intuition about what your needs are. If you do choose meds, or if don’t choose meds, you are in good company.

It’s just critical to make sure that decision is not one you make out of fear.

For my part,

There are a lot of things I wish I had known at the beginning. The main thing I wish I had known, is there are no studies on how to withdraw — physically or mentally — from psych meds. Studies on this are not done by pharmaceutical companies, and I haven’t found independent research on how to ease this process either.

If you hope the meds are a short-term measure, read up on the prescription, weigh the pros and cons, and use rational reasoning throughout (even if that comes by way of help from a trusted loved one). This interview with the FDA’s Deputy Director for Safety in the Division of Psychiatric Products was useful to me. That said, it’s important to fish through arguments on all sides — in this article, as well as all sources.

Lastly, get physical

Shake it out! Our bodies and minds are not separate. If your mind is running amuck, maybe go jogging in some muck, too.

Equilibrate that shit! Crazy inside, crazy outside. Once your loved one(s) know you need some (or a lot) of help, you might even find yourself joking about the situation. Some self-deprecating humor always serves me well.

Ultimately, as I told my friend,

“I love you! And this is ALL VERY NORMAL stuff!”

Ways I help time pass more easily

• Listening to playlists from when I thought my life was at its worst. High school or college playlists usually work best. Listening and realizing the thing I thought I’d never make it through (e.g the reason I made the playlist) is something I barely even remember or care about.
• Sarcasm … All things Maria Bamford work.
• Coloring. Yeah, I do mean, “Why don’t you do some coloring,” like you would tell a kid. It’s amazing how smooshing a yellow crayon all over a blank page is incredibly therapeutic.

Book & podcast recs

• When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times
  by Pema Chödrön — Let me guess. You’re going to skip over this rec real quick to get to the one with happiness in the title. You will regret that.
• Real Happiness: A 28-Day Program to Realize the Power of Meditation
  by Sharon Salzberg — This is for those of us who feel we need remedial education on meditating.
• The Antidote: Happiness for People Who Can’t Stand Positive Thinking by Oliver Burkeman —This is for those of us who are very sick of mantras.
• Hyperbole and a Half: Unfortunate Situations, Flawed Coping Mechanisms, Mayhem, and Other Things That Happened
  by Allie Brosh — Think cartoon comics. Get a taste of Allie’s style here.
• Jonathan Foust’s meditations and talks —Try out the talk, Not Knowing as a Spiritual Practice or the meditation, Awareness of Breath (guess what, the latter is an 8 minute mediation. Just saying.)
• The Language of Emotions, What your feelings are trying to tell you by Karla McLaren — Possibly the most important book I’ve ever read (or listened to)!

Disclaimer: I am not an expert on mental health. The text in this site is for information purposes only and is not intended as medical advice, or a substitute for consulting a medical doctor.

Proclaimer: I am an expert on my own mental health. You can be, too.