Tag: depression

The List

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  • You have leftover pizza in the freezer and no one else is going to eat it
  • You’ve found that one episode of Community you missed online
  • Your cat/dog/hamster needs petting/walking/lettucing
  • You want to know about the ampersand
  • And the interrobang, and how to draw it by hand
  • Also, what an umlaut is, where it came from, how to use it
  • Someone texted you and you haven’t texted them back yet
  • Stephen Fry’s still hosting QI and it’s up to the letter M and you want to see what they do for the finale of Z
  • You need to sort through the recyclables and make sure the plastics and the glass don’t get mixed up
  • You have washing on the line and no one’s gonna take it in for you
  • The plumber is due to come by on Monday
  • Creme eggs go on sale soon
  • You are going to make it through this year

These are all great reasons not to kill yourself. Big, small all between. If it keeps you moving, it’s a great reason, and I’m a huge fan.

What can you think of?

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Think Happy

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How many of us have heard that we need to “think happy”?

This
well-meaning idealism may come form a nice place. But it’s got to stop.
At best it is
misleading when being said to those of us with bipolar and cyclothymia. And at worst it’s dangerous bullshit that makes a bad situation worse.

Here’s where I think it comes from.

Research
into how our minds work have stumbled across a fancy notion –
neuroplasticity. The layman-friendly idea is that you  can change your
brain simply by thinking.

As often happens with breakthroughs,
this simplification gets taken outside its context. Sure, thinking
happy thoughts can improve moods. But it doesn’t mean that this is a
cure-all.

But people want simple.

They want easy. They want
something they can understand. They don’t want to spend time researching
bipolar disorder and cyclothymia. They don’t understand how important
it is for those of us living with it.

It’s not lazyness. It’s just a lack of information.

So they use the details they have to try and make what they think is a positive impact. They preach what they can understand, not realising its potential impact.

Here’s why it’s misleading.

Mindfulness
and cognitive behavioral therapy can help people. They can allow
practitioners to alter their mood by altering their thinking. From
experience, these practices deliver insight into moods and thought
patterns. And this lets me prepare in advance and react more
appropriately during a recognised up or down phase.

The practice of “thinking happy” sort of falls into this category.

But
my bipolaroid brain doesn’t always follow
the prescribes path as dictated by external and internal stimuli.

So I
can have insight. I can have control over my reactions. But these practices do not deliver a means to
control the mood itself. Meaning that for me, “thinking happy” just
doesn’t work in practice.

Hell, if we could think ourselves happy,
wouldn’t we?

Here’s why it’s dangerous bullshit.

If
I’m down, and I’m told to “think happy", it makes me feel helpless.

I
can try it. It doesn’t work. And that clear failure becomes just another
weight dragging me down. It also opens up a gap in understanding.
Suddenly, the well-wisher isn’t a bright face swimming in the dark seas offering help.
They’re yelling out “just don’t drown” from a passing yacht.

And that’s just insultingly unhelpful.

Why?
Because like many with this condition, I work for my happiness. I
stress and I measure and I build routines. I do yoga and meditate and
eat right and go above and beyond what I see others doing in the pursuit
of happiness.

I fight for my happiness every day. Every second.

That’s why
this well-wisher gets lumped in the “dangerous bullshit”  category.

Standing there with a sympathetic smile telling me that I can just
“think happy” is bordering on insulting. And that’s not something that
someone in my position needs.

Not that they know that. They don’t have to live like this.

Drowning isn’t normal. Yachts are normal.

So, what can we do?

Educate.

Talk them through the thought patterns. When you can.

Explain the actual work that
goes into becoming someone who can function as well as we can.

Try to make them understand the obstacles in our way.

Bring them into your world using analogies, and make them a champion of your daily struggle with thinking happy.

Maybe it will stick, maybe not.

But their involvement can be part of our happiness – if we can just get through to them.

Flatlining

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I get up late in the afternoon.

Put clothing on my body. Put food in my face.

Log on to do work type things. Press buttons. Click images. Drag things from one folder to another.

Get up. Pee. Sit back down.

More buttons.

Food in face.

Headphones. Coffee.

Ah, what was that? Did I hear a heartbeat? Did something stir? An echo of how I used to be?

I know this feeling. I call it “flatlining”.

It’s the part of a depressive phase. It’s the bit where I’m not unhappy. But I’m not content. Everything just is.

And it’s dangerous.

My
brain wonder how long I have to put up with this mode of existence. How
many days of getting up, clothing and feeding myself simply because I
”should”? How many weeks of pressing buttons and getting up to pee? How
many months of crushing monotony where nothing stirs my soul?

I
can see the danger. I have been through this before. Chances are, if
you’re reading this, then you have too. You know why it’s dangerous.

So, how can you beat the flatline?

There
are three things I know help me get to grips with it. Not banish it.
There’s no cure that causes me to suddenly perk up and just be better.

Here they are.

Caffeine.
Drink coffee. Or tea. Nothing too sugary – that causes too big a high
and low – but with enough stuff just to elevate your metabolism. It’s
not the same as true excitement. But it does help lift the fog. A
little. Enough so that I feel like I have a grip on my choices.

Exercise.
Walking seems pointless, and lifting weights feels like a zero-sum
game. But the stress it puts on your body stimulates the metabolism
further, keeping things ticking over. I feel like this stops my body
from entering a state of sludge.

Sleep. When I hit the point
where I can not do things, sleep is great. It helps restore brain
function by removing cellular toxins generated by daily activities. It literally flushes the shitty bits out of your brain.

What is your favourite way of recovering from flatline?

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Molasses

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You ever had to wade through molasses?

Or maybe tar? Or glue?

Me neither. But  know what it’s like.

A single step is an effort. Raising your hand or arm is tiring. Keeping your head up is exhausting.

Now, imagine if the molasses was on the inside.

Imagine it weighing things down. Normal automatic processes are harder. Your appetite slows. Breathing is a struggle. Smiling or looking someone in the eye is a titanic undertaking. The molasses makes everything heavier.

Now imagine the molasses in your head.

It binds to thoughts, slowing them to a standstill. Feelings get sucked under. Logic gets glued in place.

Any activity is a drain. It feels like there’s no action you can take that is going to be freeing, liberating, easy. Because even thinking is an effort. And forcing action is next to impossible.

This is depression.

You can’t fight it. Your body is too heavily bound. You can’t grin and bear it, because smiling sits heavily on your face. You can’t think your way out, because the thoughts are caught.

So, how do you get out?

By waiting.

The molasses isn’t going anywhere. But it’s also not a motive force. It weighs you down, but it is static.  By struggling, by resisting, you are tiring yourself out. Forcing painful friction. This pain adds to the inertia, making you feel worse.

Be still. Be accepting.

Look at where the molasses clings. Wait for gravity to do it’s thing. Observe it as it gathers and gloops and falls to the floor.

By being patient and present, you free yourself of the painful struggle. And when it is gone, you will have an appreciation for the freedom others can take for granted.

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Climate Prep

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I have heard a theory about  cultures that  develop in extreme climates. The theory goes that severe conditions requires careful preparation to survive. The local communities develop routines that work around the local environmental conditions. Like collecting food and fuel to last out frozen months. Or hauling water vast distances in the gray of early morning to avoid dehydration during the furnace of mid-day.

The interesting point for me is the way the people pay attention to the signs and signals in the weather. They see a cloud on the horizon, or notice a hint of change in the air, and they respond accordingly. They have learned that to ignore the warning signs is to chance an extremely uncomfortable (and potentially short) existence.

This matters because my moods are like the weather in many ways:

  • they are outside my direct control
  • their arrival is preceded by certain signs
  • they’re impacts can be mitigated by intelligent preparation
  • the consequences of ignoring them can be devastating

For example, if i notice a certain numbness to my thoughts – like I haven’t slept enough and my brain feels sluggish – that’s a good indication of a depressive episode. OR if I get excited at the prospect of something menial – and the excitement doesn’t fade, or seems to cross into every thought – then there’s a good percentage on it being a precursor to a hypomanic episode.

Unfortunately, there are strong temptations to ignore these signs. I might try to brush of a numb sensation as a result of working too hard, or a strong flutter as a normal response to exciting news. Because the truth is I don’t want to have to face the tough times ahead. I don’t want to stockpile provisions. I don’t want to avoid the outdoors.

Additionally, other people can’t see the weather. It’s not real for them. And I don’t want to look dumb in front of my friends by throwing on a heavy jacket indoors, or chugging ice-water when everyone else is sipping hot chocolates.

But this is dumb. It’s like standing in the snow without clothes because you don’t believe in blizzards. The weather exists whether you believe in it or not.

Besides, I’m not doing this preparation for them. I’m doing it for me.

Nope

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I woke up today and found it was raining nope. Up into the sky, behind the sunshine and chirping birds were great big rolling clouds of nope. As they passed, they dropped massive sheets of nope all over the landscape.

Great big walls of liquid nope dropping out of the heavens, smashing into the ground with torrential force. Going outside was impossible.

This was weird because no one else sees to notice. They were walking around in the nope. I watched as it cascaded from their clothes, over their faces. They were wading through the nope like it wasn’t even there.

Soon the nope pools ran together, becoming lakes that submerged the landscape. From my window I watched as a moving wall of nope started rising up the side of my building, washing away even the slightest chance of doing anything.

Bridges went down. Communications were cut off. Before long, I was stuck on an island made of blankets, with limited energy reserves and precious few fucks to give.

I hope rescue turns up soon.

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Guilt vs Shame

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I don’t feel guilt when I’m depressed.

Guilt is knowledge. Guilt is a deliberate, conditioned response to a deliberate, considered action. If I steal the last cookie from the pack, I feel guilty, because I know that’s a dick move. Society has taught me this is wrong, and so when I do wrong, then I become guilty. It’s just information.

Shame is a state of being. It is an emotional state of crushing force. Shame shuts down my ability to do even the most basic things. It diminishes my sense of honour, worth, and self esteem. Anything that removes or diminishes these ideal is shameful, and thus I feel ashamed. It’s a feeling of diminished possibilities.

Here’s the rub. I can do a thing that makes me guilty but not ashamed. If I sleep with someone and don’t call them back, that makes me guilty of being a crappy lover (or a great one-night stand, your choice). I may experience guilt because it’s not what you’re “meant“to do, but I don’t feel shame, because it’s not a shameful thing.

On the flip side, if I’m late to meet with friends, I feel shame, because my mental state tells me that I’m a horrible human being for not respecting their time. It’s my sense of self that gets judged, not just the action. I’m not guilty per se, because it was not deliberate.  Besides, they were late anyway and forgave my trespass.

That’s what friends are for, right?

But depression doesn’t let me see this distinction. It robs me of the insight into the difference between an external judgement and an internal state. Guilt becomes shame. Shame then creates more shame, because it stops me from doing. And because I can’t do, I feel more shame – and so the cycle starts.

However, you can stop the cycle before it begins.

Firstly remember that everything that happens to you is not your fault. You did not cause it. You do not control how the world works. You can only ever choose how to react to it.

And secondly, remember that depression, bipolar – and mental health issues in general – impact your ability to react. In the same way as an external force acting on your body. You can’t choose how to feel. And that counts as an external force.

Remember: guilt relates to deliberate choices and is determined mainly by society, while shame is an internal judgement. Bipolar and associated conditions are not a choice, nor are they internal judgements. They are things that are happening to you.

So they can’t be given the label of either guilt or shame.

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The Good Fight

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Today was not the right day for things to go wrong. It felt like fighting an uphill battle. Against giants. While armed with waterpistols.

I missed out on saying goodbye to a food friend by mere minutes. Then the taxi went to the wrong address. I lost money through carelessness. Got mad and tried to drink my feelings away. Turned up late to a dinner with friends. Yelled about my crap life in front of strangers. Got lost on the way home. The air conditioner broke down and it hot as hell.

Yeah it was a tough day. Made worse by the fact that I know it’s actually not that bad. Everything on the list is annoying, sure. But in the real world it’s recoverable. I know I’m durable. And I will survive. Which makes the guilt at feeling bad even worse.

How to beat it.
There’s no simple solution. When the monster wants me it comes and takes me. Repressing or refusing to acknowledge an episode – no matter how minor – just makes it worse.

So the best thing for me is to stand up (or at least sit a bit higher on my bed) and declare loudly (mumble into my pillow) “I am experiencing a bout of depression. It’s not me, I am not the cause. Anymore than I’m the cause of rainy weather. Bad things happen. But I will be smart about this and stay out of the rain as much as I can.”

I will fight the good fight. And it becomes a good fight when I stop fighting by taking the blame away from the circumstance.

Making Space

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Look around you. Right now, how much distance is between you and the nearest person? Could you reach out and touch them?

Okay, now how much do you know about that person? How much distance is between you as people? Can you measure the solipsistic gulf – and are you happy with that distance?

 I’m surrounded by people, but I haven’t said hello to anyone in days.

Right now the gulf is massive. There is a sense of un-worth that stops me from interacting. Like great grey walls that block all sight and muffle all sound.

There’s not much I can do. Being alone is hard. But reaching out is harder. Talking is harder.

However, there is power in this knowledge. I know from experience that this grey gulf is real. It is happening right now. But it is also as insubstantial as and fleeting as mist on a sunny day.

And the best thing is that I don’t have to do anything. The passing of time will take care of it. I just need to give myself space. Give myself permission to be alone, and soon enough I can reach out and – metaphorically – touch people once again.

The Waiting Game

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Bipolarity has its ups and downs, sure. But for me, the most grueling part of choosing to manage my own behaviour is the uncertainty.

Like right now, I’m kind of anxious. And I don’t know if it’s because:

  • I didn’t sleep well
  • I haven’t had my coffee
  • I’m about to enter a depressive spiral that will shrink my world to a single room and make it hard to interact with humanity at large
  • I FORGOT TO PUT THE BINS OUT

…Yeah, it was the bins.