Don't buy the lies

I am not a psychic. Obviously.

But how often do I act like I am? How often do you act like you are? Isn't that essentially what we're doing when we assume we know what someone else is thinking? We all do it, I think, and it is often relationally destructive. But for someone who struggles with depression, it is also very often personally destructive. As I've said before, depression lies to you. It interprets the world not through rose-colored glasses, but through blue-tinted ones. Clearly, everyone struggles with self-doubt, with fears and concerns, with insecurities. For someone with certain mental illnesses it's a way of life, and it can be crippling.

Some of the major lies depression whispers to those in its grasp are that they are unloved (even unlovable), that they are thought ill of, that people don't care about them, or that people even wish them harm. Suicidal ideation is an extreme consequence of this line of thinking. Even the milder consequences can be catastrophic. The lies create distance, instigated by either party of a relationship, and serve to isolate that person—presumably, since you're reading this, you or someone you love—who so desperately needs companionship, intimacy, friendship.

It is critical, then, to head these lies off, as best as possible. If you have to, just keep repeating, "I am not a psychic" until it sinks in. It is also critical to have people around you who love you well, and who understand the negative tendencies of your mind, and who stand ready to encourage more accurate perceptions.

Don't try to guess what others are thinking. Depression will tell you all sorts of lies. The only real way to know what another person is thinking is to up and ask them.

Personal Update

It's been many months again since I've posted. I decided it's high time I get a little more disciplined in my writing, alternating between this blog and my other one.  Alas, school will probably get in the way of that, but it's a nice thought!

I thought my first post back should be an update on my own depression. I'll try to keep it brief and to the point. 

In February, after much resistance on my part and much insistence on the part of some friends (and due to finally having health insurance!), I went to see a doctor. I was re-diagnosed with a mood disorder, though because of the long-term nature of it, my doctor told me it's something called dysthymia. It is essentially a milder and longer-lasting form of depression, which is sometimes punctuated by major depressive episodes. Well, names are fun, and all, but I didn't feel like this was helpful information on its own.

When I went back soon after, my doctor prescribed an anti-depressant (bupropion) and the next several weeks were spent tweaking dosages. Since settling on a dose, I have noticed three major things: 

1) It is much easier to focus, be organized, be successful in school, care for others and take care of myself when I'm not having to fight just to get out of bed. 

2) My baseline mood is better. It is still fairly easy for me to drop into a depressed state, but with some coping mechanisms I've learned on my own over the years, as well as some learned through counseling, things are much better.

3) Medication isn't a cure-all. I still have bad days. Even weeks. But it's a bit easier to come out of, and combining a medication with counseling is certainly more effective than just the medication.

All that to say, if you are--or someone you care about is--exhibiting symptoms of depression, do not be afraid of seeking professional medical help, or encouraging them to do so. Drugs aren't scary. They don't mean you're weak. They mean you're sick, and they can help you feel better. Ditto for counseling. Think of it as the equivalent of physical therapy for your emotions. The biggest lie depression tells people is that they deserve to feel the way they do. Well, you don't. And there's help!

Watching what I watch

You probably know that people with depression shouldn't drink alcohol. It can make an already bad situation worse and it can really mess with the emotions. I have a standing policy to not drink unless I'm around other people, and to only have a couple drinks tops in any given evening.  Just to be on the safe side.

I find, though, that there are, at least for me, other things I consume that can be at least as destructive as alcohol. I'm talking about media.

The ever-enthralling Netflix.

For me, my mood and mental well-being can be influenced—at times, heavily influenced—by what I watch and listen to. I am naturally drawn to darker narratives, dystopian societies, things that reflect real life, regardless of how fantastical the genre. I love these stories, but given my proclivity toward depression, these aren't always healthy choices.  If I feel like life's all wrong, Battlestar Galactica and House aren't going to make me feel better. There are even very popular shows that I avoid specifically because of their darkness (e.g., Breaking Bad and Mad Men).

Likewise, there is a lot of music that I like that is all about questioning the status quo, seeking answers, struggling and hurting. To me, this seems more real than sappy love songs, peppy dance music and vapid pop. At the same time, it can build up a real negative effect. When I'm down, Linkin Park isn't the greatest thing to flip to on my iPod.

So I try to loop in some lighter material. A little Scrubs and some Chris Ayer. Sometimes, it needs to be more overtly positive, and I'll dig out some hymns.

The point is, examine what you're taking in. What do you choose to watch and listen to? Does it bring you down or lift you up? There's absolutely a place for the realistic-and-frequently-saddening things you might love. But when you're feeling especially bad, maybe reach for something else.

I am not alone ... and neither are you

When I said there might be long breaks between posts, I didn't expect to take almost eight months to come back. Life has been crazy. Crazy good and crazy hard, but pretty much always crazy.

Last week was one of the hardest I've had in a long time. Failure on top of difficulty on top of responsibility on top of painful reminders on top of facing fears; it was a perfect storm of depression triggers.

Now, when that happens, my greatest temptation is always to withdraw. I hole up, hide from everyone and try to power through (or, more accurately, weather the storm) on my own. I reject invitations, I avoid most human contact, I hit the Netflix queue hard and I keep the Kleenex close.

The biggest lies I always face are that I'm worthless and that I'm alone. Both have complex origins, but I think they're also pretty common among people who struggle with depression.

The beautiful thing about last week is that I never WAS alone. I got a random very nice text from a friend who had no idea what was going on. I--of course--ignored it at the time. One friend insisted on coming over and just sitting together, even silently, knowing that I just needed some care. Another friend realized I was crashing and called to apologize that he couldn't be there, and then texted me: "You have value. You have worth. Even if it feels remote or non-existent. I love you, brother." This last one especially highlights the value of being vulnerable enough to be known (I feel another post coming on soon...).

None of those things fixed the struggles I was and am facing. But each of them put a crack in the brick wall of despair I had built around myself. Taken together, they allowed me to see light and to begin the process of taking down the wall with the help and support of people who give a damn, even when I kinda don't.

Now, I know that you may not have such friends. I haven't always. I am deeply grateful to be blessed with them. But, behind each of those acts, behind their love, is a greater love, one that orchestrated exactly what I needed to keep me going. Even when I felt most alone, I never truly was. God was in it every step of the way, and when I lost sight of him, he sent my friends to remind me.

God will never leave you or forsake you. Oh, I know it feels that way. And when you're down in it, it may be impossible to see him. But he will give you the grace to persevere. And, I hope, he will send you someone to just sit with you when you really, really need it.

This blog sucks

No, this isn't a self-deprecating attempt to garner your praises. It's an explanation of part of the reason I don't post as often as some of you (and, honestly, I) would like.

It's hard.

Well, there it is. It seems that it is best for me to write something when I'm not actively bogged down in my depression, since I can usually at least attempt to have a level of objectivity then. So I try to write when I'm feeling pretty good. Or at least OK.

The nasty paradox there is that when I start to think about and analyze my story, my experience and my feelings, I start feeling worse and worse. So, when I'm feeling pretty good, I don't want to make things worse by over-thinking everything.

At the same time, I think this is a really good thing, both for me and--with any luck--for others, so I do want to keep doing it.

All that to say, it kind of sucks. 

But no, I haven't given up on it. I will keep posting. I have a few entries in the works already. I just wanted to say that the interval between posts will probably always vary, and that sometimes it might be a good while. But I'll be back.

Thanks for reading, and thanks to the many of you who have given feedback, shared your own stories and encouraged me!

Eschewing Perfection

One of the things that really messes with me is the pressure, both from within and from outside myself, to be perfect. To name a few: I must earn good grades, find a well-paying and interesting job, write flawlessly, perform brilliantly in all social interactions, never let anyone down and always be happy.

Right.

And I know it happens to you, too. This is one of the most destructive lies we tell ourselves. Because we will either be constantly stressed and under pressure to achieve, or we will become consumed by whatever ways (real or perceived) we may fail.

 As I said, these expectations can come from two sources: myself and others. In most cases, though, the pressure from others is really coming from me, too.

If you find yourself feeling constantly under pressure from others to be perfect, examine yourself first. Are those expectations really coming from someone else? Or are they projections onto others of your own expectations? Do you expect that they'll have expectations, and therefore bury yourself under pressure they may not even be exerting?

If, though, the pressure really is coming from someone else (family is generally the biggest culprit in this, particularly parents), you can--and, really, need to--work on adjusting those relationships. Talk to your parents and tell them you feel overwhelmed by how much they expect from you. Tell your friend that you do care about them, but you can't constantly be everything to them. If you're lucky enough to have a healthy working environment, talk to your boss about what's realistic and what's fantasy in terms of production. You can't always fix things, and sometimes relationships need to be sidelined if they are having a toxic effect on you. But you should certainly try.

If it turns out the pressure is all from yourself, well, that's harder. You have to live in your head 24/7. But you have to learn to let go. Set realistic goals. Have a reward system for achieving them. Don't expect to be perfect, and don't hate yourself when you aren't. No one else does. Love yourself for the skills and abilities you have. Be thankful for what you have and where you are, for what you can do and the difference you can make. And when you mess up, forgive yourself and learn to move forward to the next thing.

Because idealism (that is, expecting the ideal) is paralyzing. How many people never start something because the idea isn't ever quite good enough? It could be a project, a relationship, a business. I've done it, with all of those. If I don't start, I can't fail, right? But that's the thing: almost every good thing you can do/have/learn/experience requires risk. Yeah, I might fail. But what about what I might achieve? If I never start, I'll never know. Is that really worth the "comfort" of playing it safe?

No, it's really not. Think about the things in your life you wouldn't have if you'd always taken the easy road. Let them encourage you to go and do, to risk and be free.

So expect yourself to be good. Expect yourself to do your best. Do what you can. But don't expect yourself to be perfect.

Dream

I often forget how to dream.

At one time, there were untold wonders before me, career paths to explore, places to go, ways to change the world.

Now, there is today, tomorrow and maybe next week, or even next year. I can plan. But I don't often dream.

Through a series of painful and frustrating circumstances, many of the dreams I had were dashed, and the agony that caused made me never want to hope in anything again. It's safer, I reasoned, to never have those dreams, to simply take life as it comes and thus never again be so brutally disappointed.

But what I've found is that, without dreams, ALL of life is a disappointment. If you have nothing to believe in, nothing to pursue, then everything begins to feel like a giant waste of time. When that happens, my mindset becomes the very epitome of that old saying: "Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die." Whether I were to die "tomorrow" or in 50 years, I have already given up.

And so, it seems to me that it is a part of being human to need to dream. To look longingly into the unknown future and mold it, ever so gently, with the imagination. It may not happen the way we've crafted it, but it WILL happen, and we'd better still be going when it gets here.

I still struggle with this, very often, if not daily. I find it hard to believe that the future can be better than today. It's been a long time since I was full of hope. But even on the worst days, I have learned to cling for dear life to the last shreds of dreaming, knowing that, tomorrow, or the next day, or next week, I will need to continue building them back up.

I have found nothing so profound to get me through my darkest days than to dream. Try it with me. You will face disappointment. But never let all hope pass away. Tomorrow is coming.