The year of the black dog
I just went to the shopping mall next door to buy some blank CDs, and it seems that the Chinese New Year celebrations are really kicking off:
- including a Chinese acrobatic show:
But I found myself getting tearful, and unable to stay and watch and engage in the performance. So I walked out of the mall, and straight back to my hotel room.
I’m feeling the way I was feeling on Sunday… but in fact, today it is far more frightening to be feeling this way. Because today, this doesn’t feel like the result of being alone or in an unfamiliar place, nor the result of missing friends. Today, this is my depression.
Before I came out here, a friend asked me if this blog was going to be about the personal journey of someone who had just walked away from a relationship, and all that went with that; or the adventures of a British jazz singer in Malaysia. I said that it would be the latter; although of course elements of the former might bleed into that. What I didn’t expect it to be was any sort of account of my depression.
But just as on Sunday I could have tried to hide my mood, and not write about it; I find myself again, unable to call anyone right now, and again, feeling that I simply cannot - or should not - hide it. Not for the sake of a good story, but because as far as I’m concerned, this blog means nothing if it’s not honest.
Depression, as anyone who has suffered from it can tell you, catches you by surprise. It pops up as if from nowhere, and as quickly as it appears, grips you as tightly as a vice. It is overwhelming and suffocating and leads you to walk out of shopping malls in tears because you cannot engage with what everyone else around you seems to be perfectly easily able to engage with.
And you mourn the loss of the person who was able to engage just like they are; and are terrified that she will never return. What’s more, you’re terrified, as I am right now, that this mood will never leave you. As Andrew Solomon says in The Noonday Demon:
“When you are depressed, the past and future are absorbed entirely by the present moment, as in the world of a three-year-old. You cannot remember a time when you felt better, at least not clearly; and you certainly cannot imagine a future time when you will feel better. Being upset, even profoundly upset, is a temporal experience, while depression is atemporal. Breakdowns leave you with no point of view.”
I brought The Noonday Demon with me as holiday reading because, before this trip, I thought I was, well, if not over my depression, then at least coming out of it - and therefore would be easily able to cope with, and would just find interesting, a book about the subject. But I’ve now realised that I shouldn’t read it right now. Because as fascinating and beautifully written as it is, it’s just still too close to the bone to be reading about someone else’s breakdown and depression, and I fear it’s causing me to sink down, too.
As I said, I never intended - or rather, expected - to be writing about my own depression in this blog. Partly because I have found myself ashamed to be suffering from it (although I see no shame in it in others, only the hallmark of amazing and sensitive people) - and so have found it difficult to publicly acknowledge it. As a result, I couldn’t imagine in a million years that I would be able to write this. And yet, as I do, I know that it’s helping me. And that it will help me to continue to be honest about my experience out here.
And now I have to decide whether to give into this feeling today; and curl up and sleep until such time as I simply have to get ready and do my gig as best I can. Or whether I try to beat this feeling; and go to the gym, go out for a walk, take photographs, watch a film; try as I might to engage with the world. Right now, I don’t know which I’ll do.
What I do know, however, is that I don’t want my depression to cripple my time out here; that I feel a little better for having written all of this; and that both of these realisations bode well. Hell, maybe I should create a ‘Depression’ category on the right hand side here, now that I’ve taken this first step and written this post. Not just because I now feel bolder and braver - but because depression is most certainly not about ‘Nothing in particular’. It’s about Everything in particular. And then some.
February 6th, 2008 at 4.46pm
hi love, as you know I so understand how you are feeling right now, it was like reading my own thoughts. All I can say is it will pass, the cloud will lift eventually, even if only for a while, and you get some sun
From experience, don’t rush it
only aim to do one thing, so your list of gym, film, photos is too many maybe, just do 1 and then see how you feel, you don’t have to engage in the world, you don’t have to push your shelf, “should” is a pointless word do what you can do.
duvets are our best friends
being ‘angry’ at having the depression is a big part of feeding it, negative thinking, so I suggest every time that frustration builds up you “turn the volume down’ on those words its unhelpful and not the truth
you have achieved so much out there already, remember that, give yourself a break
Finally, we’re all here for you, listening, hoping and thinking of you, depression places you in isolation, but you have been tremedously brave in sharing your feelings and in that way you have opened the door
much love xx
February 6th, 2008 at 6.28pm
Your sis is right.
Forgive yourself for the way you are feeling.
If that’s how you feel, then that’s how you feel.
Treat yourself well and with respect (forget I mentioned G&Ts)
Disengagement is sometimes a positive place to be: observations through a window, wondering how and why people are. Makes the world a strange place. Like a personal Brechtian moment.
Positive evaluations of self - but guard against comparisons.
Make realistic demands on yourself - ones that you can achieve not ones that leave you feeling a failure.
I obtained great solace in three months of stripping paint, Radio 4 and a cat. Well actually the cat had to go in the end but I still have nice wood:
February 6th, 2008 at 6.29pm
Here’s some of the wood:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/86338173@N00/759643119/sizes/l/in/set-72157600032721469/
Love R xxx
February 6th, 2008 at 7.10pm
thank you both.
Rach - that is damn fine wood.
xx
February 6th, 2008 at 7.36pm
Sorry to read that you’re not feeling to good.
I can’t claim to know how you are feeling exactly but I think I’ve been close to it myself in the past and come out the other side.
One thing that makes me think that you will get over this is that there is an awareness that you’re in that state. Almost as though you’re watching yourself slightly going through it.
February 7th, 2008 at 12.57am
thanks John. yes, I guess recognition of what’s happening helps one to get out of it. or at least spot the warning signs quicker.
February 9th, 2008 at 8.47am
Andrea, be kind to yourself.
Take one day at a time.
and put some hugs in your pocket from me for when you need one.
February 9th, 2008 at 12.02pm
ohh thank you, S’s Mum. I will store those hugs and use them as and when I need them.
x