I've mentioned depression in some of my recent postings and it's one of those comments it's tempting to slip into a blog and not really explain. Well, the elephant is well and truly still in the room - and I am going to try and use this time while I am in an episode to see if I can, without pressuring myself, understand more about the practical, social and spiritual implications of this for me - and others. Cancer and death used to be the big social taboos. These days I suspect the one thing few people talk about are their own mental health issues - and yet very few of us - with a higher proportion per head of population in faith communities - will travel through our entire life without experiencing some form of mental health issue.
What are we so scared of?
I guess we have all witnessed conversations where we have heard someone written off professionally or personally because of mental health issues. Maybe we have undermined someone's credibility because they 'suffer from' or 'can't handle...' The reality is that 'normal' is in the eye of the beholder, rather like beauty. Depression is a b***** of an illness, but so is Asthma - and at least it is an illness and not a personality trait. Unlike gross insensitivity, selfishness or egocentricity it can actually be remedied to some degree with time, rest, talking therapies and medication. I'd rather be depressed than unable to perceive and reach out to meet another's needs, or live in a mind set where I thought I always knew best.
My own experience has been that there are a few people who consider themselves 'well' mentally who are also frightened or dismissive of the majority of mental health problems. The 'snap out of it'; 'pull yourself together' or 'poor lamb can't help it...' brigade are at best prejudiced or ignorant - or at worst in denial regarding their own needs and wants. Like many illnesses the most focused and generous support often comes from those who have 'been there, and got the t-shirt' and from folk who are essentially comfortable in their 'own skins' which most depressives are, after all the 'work' they put in to be-friending their psyche.
What I am writing I hope will help.
The Royal College of Psychiatry produce some super booklets on a variety of mental health conditions and their one on Depression is no exception. It can be printed, and I think downloaded from their website:
The leaflet identifies someone who is seriously depressed as:
...their feelings of depression don't go away and they are so bad they interfere with every day life...
The symptoms include:
Feeling unhappy most of the time ... lose interest in life and can't enjoy anything, find it harder to make decisions, can't cope with things that you used to, feel utterly tired, feel restless and agitated ... lose self confidence ... avoid people ... think of suicide.
This time the slip into depression has been slow and then, just over the last weeks, I have felt as though I am sliding down a flume into nothing - but very languidly and not without significant accompanying agitation. As I write I cannot keep still physically or mentally. Prayer just now is singing worship songs.
I've had one very serious bout of depression before - but this time is a bit different. I think the early intervention with antidepressants has altered the dynamic of the depression, if that doesn't sound too quaint or fanciful. I recognise a previous pattern has emerged once again probably prompting this episode where the triggers are exhaustion and some kind of major life event.
Most recently I had a serious fall which messed up my mobility and confidence as a visually-impaired person and has permanently damaged my left hand which, as a guitar player and a person who draws and paints right and left-handed, this is a serious creative blow. I am devastated but had no time to mourn - life events were coming at me thick and fast - some thrilling and exciting; others upsetting and deeply disturbing. I have gone into a gentle mental melt down. If I was a computer I would say I had set myself to defragment.
Usually I begin an episode with a sense that I have no room to manoevre and feel emotionally and sometimes physically trapped. This can often be alleviated by simply taking time out and being much more self-caring. Then my mood will lift and all manner of things will be well. If this doesn't happen and the trappedness grows, I generally start to become anxious and have difficulty sleeping and motivating myself. Simple tasks become hugely draining and I begin to avoid spending time with people except one to one.
The battle then commences between the 'reality check' voices in my head which constantly remind me of all I am committed to and all I need to do - and the often muted cry of the dark, exhausted and diminished part of my psyche which begs me to slow down. At this point I used to move into workaholic overdrive as my chosen self-sabotaging technique. I have wised up about that and now try and slow down to a stop. This is the first time I've tried this approach and it may be - alongside the medication - why this episode feels different.
I have a friend, who as far as I know is not a depressive, who talks about depression as the Dark Monster. My experience has been much more akin to Churchill who described his own depressive episodes as the Black Dog returning unbidden into his life. I love black dogs and this is the time to befriend this particular one. She is going to be a part of my life for some weeks to come.
One of the aspects of my own experience of Depression is that I become dis-located from myself and therefore award little or no value to myself. At the moment of have no sense of the real me. To be honest the woman I can play back in my memory whose comedy timing is impeccable; is a gifted communicator; a committed writer and academic theologian and a committed artist feels like a distant relative - some favourite Aunt I admire. I can see her but not own her.
The hardest thing to get used to this time around is that I can still think. During my last Depression I have no memory of large chunks of the experience - my brain felt numb. I don't know quite how to interpret this. Maybe it's a good sign. I am aware I am darker in my thoughts and more negative than before.
The rest of the family are about. Depression make me egocentric - and I lose a lot of my empathetic skills. My partner is burning the candle at both ends as we have family staying too. The rest of our immediate family are worried although our son is doing very well, sinking himself into computer games, sending inappropriate e-mails to the whole of the Scottish Episcopal Church inviting them into Oedipal relationships with their mothers and kicking off at his uniformed organisation. My sense is he has the healthiest response to his anger and frustration of the lot of us.
P.s. I've not lost my sense of humour - yet.
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