Depression: it ain’t [all] heavy
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Down the Rabbit Hole by Stephanie Bracciano on etsy
“In the summer of 2012, I started writing about depression. Ultimately, I wrote thirteen articles that were published monthly at the online magazine Scoutie Girl.
A part of it includes my experience with a long, dark episode of depression. But mostly, my goal has been to remind myself of good things to do and help others to help us when we’re unwell: something I couldn’t do when I was down.
The first full week of October 2015 encompasses Mental Illness Awareness Week in Canada, so I thought, why not republish these? So, here they are. Where possible, the articles exist as they did in 2012-2013, with links to originals. ”
Depression: it ain’t [all] heavy
Depression. No one wants to hear about it. But I’m not on about the ugly nuts and bolts of the bottom of the bottom, and not the clinical diagnosis. Not the other one, either, that goes something like “I’m so depressed that my favourite chocolate store closed down!” (Note: this is sadness. Maybe disappointment. Check out Danielle LaPorte’s thoughtful separation of the two and come back, just so we’re all on the same page here.)
I’m talking about what it’s like to know my own early signs that depression is calling, and what I do about it. And let me start by announcing that I am in no way a medical professional. I had an experience, and I have learned a lot from it, and that’s the foundation of all that follows.
Background: I survived a three-year, need-help-to-leave-the-bed-for-the-couch depression, and I can now see how I had wrangled my way through milder depressions before. My prognosis includes “high risk of relapse,” and it’s my goal to prove this wrong. I’m not here to talk about how bad it can get, but rather, to talk about how to recognize when the rabbit hole door is swinging wide-open with a “JUMP DOWN NOW!” flashing neon sign out front and warm, flaky, chocolate croissants just inside (I’m a sucker for chocolate croissants: the good, freshly baked kind). And then to learn how to not jump down it.
Are my early signs like yours? If so, then maybe some of this can help.
For me, I know something’s starting to go haywire when I feel like I can’t accomplish anything. Now, it’s important to remember that it’s a feeling: I may actually be accomplishing a lot, but I feel like I’m not. This feeling is often accompanied by slow moving, thinking, and talking; and generally feeling dull.
The truth: humans have higher days and lower days, and it’s important to remember this.
Part of depression recovery for me was tracking every teeny tiny change in mood or feeling; it became a habit, so that I could identify positive or negative change. That isn’t so super-helpful now. It actually feels pretty bad, like I’m neurotically charting every bump and fart in my mood and on alert to panic if something feels low. I’m feeling pretty healthy now, and when I have a “lower” day, I have learned to hit a mental override that says “remember: other people do too. It’s just a day.”
Next early sign that things are going haywire: it’s super hard to do the mental override. The self-talk loop starts saying “You’re getting unproductive. In fact, you really haven’t done anything productive in ages.” If I don’t catch this and change it, it leads to “You’re actually kind of worthless and never really have done anything useful.” This is the rabbit hole! There is nothing good down here!
Useful (to me) turnarounds
I stay alert for that first “You’re so unproductive” script. I know the difference between the helpful one (the one telling me that the coffee break really should end after 55minutes of gabbing about my latest kale chips recipe* and how it’s so awesome: this really is inappropriate when I’m supposed to be working) and the unhelpful, destructive one. When I hear the destructive one, I summon all of my strength to get it out. I tell it, “No, you’re wrong. This is a lower moment, and is perfectly okay.”
I go for a walk. I know, we’ve all heard it a million times, but it really does change something. I like to think that it jiggles the unhelpful thought around and shakes it out of my brain.
Or, I grab a friend for a walk and not talk about it. Talking about it sinks me deeper sometimes, so purposefully talking about something else—best: something in their life—can shift the destructive thoughts.
I smell something good. I know, it’s weird. But sometimes even digging out the awesome hand lotion or putting on some tingly mint lip balm does something.
I stop and dance. This has taken some training, as I am not, and never have been, a dancer. But I have a fledgling list of songs that I can pull up and play that force me to shake. Even just a little bit. Partially because it is so ridiculous (me, dancing?) and partially because they are happy songs, something shifts.
I don’t need it to be scientific: I just need the low-mood early-signs-of-depression to shift. Because nothing really good is down that rabbit hole, especially not the flaky chocolate croissants.
Down the road, I’ll talk about preventative and ongoing good-health habits that have worked for me, but for now, tell me: is there anything that you do when you see your early warning signs rearing up? Is there anything that helps you to determine what is an early warning sign for you?
*The secret is in the nutritional flake yeast. Add it to olive oil, lemon juice, and garlic; massage the kale with your hands until each leaf is completely coated; then spread on your dehydrator racks that your kind friend gave you as a housewarming present and dehydrate for a few hours until those babies are super crispy. Yum.
More information
If you are in crisis, follow this link to find someone to call.
Simple Mayo Clinic depression self-assessment
Mental Illness Awareness Week
Best croissants in Alberta. . . or maybe, the world! (I prefer almond now, just for the record.)
Were you looking for my songlist link? It went the way of a dinosaur website. Until I get my Spotify lists in order, please go there or to Songza and explore!
Note: I am writing this because I had an experience. I am in no way a medical professional. I had an experience, and I have learned a lot from it, and that’s the foundation of all of this.