Struggling
What is Depression?
I have been struggling lately. That’s at the heart of why it’s been so long since I last wrote an entry for this blog. One thing I’ve been struggling with is writing; knowing what to write, sticking with the habit I was so proud of the first few months of the year, and finding the motivation. And when I sit down to write, it’s usually journaling. It’s putting on paper all the thoughts in my head about the circumstances I find myself in. And I’m as tired of writing about them as I am of thinking about them.
Those thoughts and the circumstances that provoke them is not what this is about, though. No, my intent is to address struggling itself; what it feels like, what it means to me, hoping a reader might identify and feel less alone. Loneliness, as I’ve written before, is a powerful feeling and if there is anything I can do to lessen it for someone, I’m going to. I want people to feel seen and understood.
I have gone back and forth between depression and anxiety in full and equal measures several times this summer. I have a diagnosis of bi-polar disorder, so this isn’t uncommon, but it’s cycled more rapidly than I’ve experienced in the past. (At the risk of sounding self-pitying, I’m lucky if it’s a true cycle and not a matter of riding out both states simultaneously.) The circumstances of my life can explain much of the struggle; relationship woes, major life choices to make, career challenges, etc. It’s not all brain chemistry and mental health. But navigating these waters when you have a disorder escalates everything.
I’ve written about both depression and anxiety previously and posted videos on my TikTok about the latter. So, partly for that reason and partly because it’s the direction things are swinging these days, I’m focusing on depression. We’re also just a week away from National Suicide Awareness and Prevention month, so it seems appropriate.
What’s Missing?
Depression, to me, is about deficits. Maybe it’s the educator in me who’s learned and taught the difference between deficit thinking and a “growth mindset” that draws that term to mind, but that’s where I find my definition. Depression feels like emptiness. There is a deep sense, and even a physical sensation, of something missing. It’s easy to identify what that something, or those things, are. Depression is more than obliging in parading in front of you, to the exclusion of all other thoughts, what’s missing in your life. And if it can’t find something specific to show you, it’s quite capable of showing you there is something, but you’re helpless to identify it, never mind fix it.
I can almost hear readers who have never faced a true acute depressive episode saying things like, “So focus on what isn’t missing.” Or “be grateful for what you have,” and I agree these are both sound pieces of advice, but if it were that easy, no one would have major depressive episodes. I know what I have. I can list the things I’m grateful for, but depression can counter every single item with either a downside, a question, a doubt, a rebuttal, or some other twist. And to make matters worse, focusing on the positive can sometimes make things worse!
Allow me to explain. The thinking goes a bit like this: “I have a family who loves me and supports me as best they can. I have a job, whether or not it’s one I like. I am reasonably healthy. I can pay my bills and even have a little left over. So, why am I like this? If I have these things to be grateful for, if things really could be much worse, then why do I feel this emptiness? I’m just broken. I’m doing something wrong. There’s a deficit. The deficit is me. I’m the problem.”
You can see why, without support and treatment, depressive thinking can lead to thoughts of self-harm. It’s why when you tell a doctor or counselor you’re feeling depressed, the first question is, “Are you having thoughts of harming yourself or others?”
What Hurts?
You are unsettled. Everything is a reminder you don’t feel well, that something is missing, that something is broken. There’s nothing that passes the time which satisfies. Even your go-to ways of spending the hours cannot distract from those nagging thoughts and that pit in your stomach or lump in your throat. For me, a pacing sort of restless settles in. For others, paralysis.
People with substance abuse disorders often talk about how they began using to escape from these feelings; to ease the restlessness or break free from the paralysis, to quiet the mind. It’s why there is a strong correlation between substance abuse and mental health disorders. I have never turned to substances to fill the void or quiet my mind, but I understand the draw; anything to get some peace, anything to feel a little better, anything to get away from my own mind.
Headaches aren’t uncommon, nor are body aches, digestive trouble, or nausea. I consider myself fortunate I don’t experience these symptoms as frequently or severely as many. But there are times I’d trade a few hours of a quiet mind and brighter disposition for a good, strong headache.
So What?
This is not a cry for help. I know what I’m struggling with will pass even when it feels like it won’t. That’s another part of depression’s diabolical trap; the feeling it doesn’t matter if you feel better or not because you’re going to end up feeling “this” way again. But I know that pitfall and have come far enough in my recovery to understand that just as I might feel “this way” again, I’ll also feel better again. And somewhere along the line, I might pick up some new tricks, some extra support, or a little more resilience. I know this will pass or I will find the key that unlocks the cell.
I also understand self care and grace. These are the two other suggestions people often offer those suffering a mental health crisis. Do things for yourself. Be patient with yourself. I can’t express enough how important it is to follow both these principles. I also can’t overstate that they alone aren’t the answer. Depression isn’t a bad mood. It’s not simply a state of mind. It’s an illness. And it takes treatment.
That looks different for different people. For me, it’s counseling and medication. But it’s also spending time with my friends and family even when I’m not the best company or when what we’re doing doesn’t feel like it can fill the emptiness. It reminds me of what I have, cancels out a little of the deficit even if just in that moment. For others, support groups, meditation, yoga, or exercise might be parts of the plan. But it takes treatment.
If you struggle, know there is hope. I understand it often feels like there isn’t. It takes a lot of grim determination to work through it and find what helps. But you can get there. You can reach solid ground.
If you’ve read this far and you aren’t someone who struggles with depression, first let me say thank you. Maybe you know someone who does and want to understand them better. Maybe you’re just a compassionate person who wants to help. Know this: showing you care helps. You can’t fix it. There’s no pearl of wisdom you can offer that will make it all better. But knowing you care can make all the difference in someone’s life. Reach out. Check in. Hold a hand. Offer an ear. Be patient.
For more help: National Alliance on Mental Health, NoStigmas, American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, National Institues of Mental Health, National Suicide Prevention Line
Phillip Davis is the author of Peppermint Lightning, Jack-o-’Lightning, and Justice for the Missing. (Sequel coming in 2023!) He is an elementary school teacher, mental-health advocate, long time NaNoWriMo participant, and member of the Ninja Writer’s community. He writes on the topics of writing, mental health, and self improvement.
