TRUE STORY: Here’s How I Overcame A Crippling Depression Disorder
“It’s so difficult to describe depression to someone who’s never been there, because it’s not sadness. I know sadness. Sadness is to cry and to feel. But it’s that cold absence of feeling—that really hollowed-out feeling.”
Life is hard. Let's get that out of the way. No one escapes without a few scars to prove you were here. We're all a little nutty too. How often do you talk to yourself? Don't pretend you don't. Who do you think you were talking to when you just said: "I don't talk to myself." It sure as hell wasn't me. And just because your cat has a human name, Larry can't be a stand-in if you're trying to justify your ramblings. He doesn’t understand what helps depression.
How often do you lose yourself in a storyline that you've dreamt up, and got angry when random people don't follow the script (for which you never gave them)? Like the wrath of Hulk, you smash down on some poor schmuck driving the speed limit when you have somewhere to be. You scream to yourself, "Doesn't he fucking know that I'm late for my meditation class!?"
The biggest difference between each of us and the conversations we have is where our plotline takes place in our heads. Talking it out gave my therapist the ability to peer through the window behind some of my bipolar depression symptoms.
Let's pretend that I can peer into your movie for a moment. Larry and you are chilling on your back deck, digging into some 7-layer bean dip, sipping beer, and a saucer of milk for the little guy. Larry asks you, "What's on your mind?"
Does your story take you to your past? Your present? Or your future self? If Larry was a therapist, he’d dig in because bringing a level of awareness to your story is how you can help someone with depression.
Sure, it depends on the day, but where do most of your thoughts live?
We all have a default setting that consumes nearly all of our thoughts. Identifying this can help paint a clear picture of where you get stuck and what causes depression.
Think of it as having a set of Airpods that you can't take out. An endless playlist stuck on one genre fills your eardrums.
Pop quiz: I have bipolar and clinical depression. Is my default playlist filled with the past, present, or future thoughts?
Answer: The past. I couldn't get out of bed in the morning because the present moment seemed impossible to face based on my past. And the future felt like one big hopeless mess so it rarely even crossed my mind. When depression has his hands on the steering wheel, you never get to move forward because you're using the rearview mirror to navigate. You only ever see what's behind you.
Here's where life gets interesting.
You can switch the playlist. For me, it meant a lot of therapy and popping depression medication every day for a decade. But I learned how to re-wire my brain to play the kind of music I wanted to hear. This was only possible when I decided to forgive my past self. No one else has the power to do this except you.
Forgiving my past self meant I could sit in the present and enjoy a conversation without focusing on why I didn't deserve to be happy.
Forgiving my past self meant I could start to dream of a future.
Forgiving my past self meant I could be alive.
Forgiving other people can be a challenge. Forgiving ourselves can be damn right impossible.
We hold ourselves to an unachievable standard and feel like we deserve the pain we're facing. And in some cases you truly do deserve the pain you're wrestling with. Owning a pair of Crocs and wearing them in public is shameful and worth every bit of guilt you're feeling.
But all those other things? Isn't it about time you forgave yourself? No one else can give you permission to do that except you. If you're willing to do it for a friend or a loved one, isn't it time you give yourself a break as well?
If you keep doing what you've been doing, you're going to keep getting what you've been getting.
When you're on the right path and your actions are aligned with the kind of person you want to be, your present moment feels peaceful. When you're taking dark alleys and each move you make is taking you further and further off the path, you can't help but feel lost and hopeless about your future.
Your present and future self may look at your past self like she's a lost cause. Like she's not worth saving because she's pulling you down. And this is true. She's the anchor to your life. She pulls you down to keep you grounded and secure. Except you won't get very far if your anchor is dragging along the ocean floor picking up debris.
If you're ready to set sail on a new adventure, the three of you need to work together. Be forgiving of your past self. Give your present self a plan so she knows where to go and how she's going to get there. And don't be a dick, be flexible with your future self. Plans don't always go to plan, but that can be a good thing when you're all working together. You learn that what gives you an unmistakable advantage in life is who you are as a whole.
It might not feel like it for you right now, but depression can be a gift. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy, but it’s given me an appreciation for life that can only come from experiencing it.
