Clinical Depression in the Busy

There are many forms and levels of depression.  It sometimes affects women differently than men.  Everyone from children to the elderly are subject to it.  It can have an acute cause and be temporary, or it can be chronic, lasting years and sometimes a lifetime. For some, it seems to come when one is at the busiest times of one's life.

For those of us with mild depression, especially as a component of bipolar disorder, it can be challenging to know what to do to treat it.  There are those of us who experience the manic highs and the depressed lows regularly and then there are those who have extended periods of functional living with specific lifts and dips.  When one has a mild form of bipolar disorder, the functionality of one's mentation creates an illusion of normalcy.  It allows those with the diagnosis to temporarily believe they are cured, or at least strong enough to deal with it on its own. 

Sometimes it can be suddenly set off by a stressful event, a physical illness, hormonal changes, or just as a natural part of the cycle between the poles of the disorder.  This time, I think my depression has been enhanced by my recent acute respiratory illness and several extremely stressful events over the last year.  The feelings of sadness and isolation have no rhyme or reason, especially for one who has the most amazing group of loved ones as I do.  And, there's the rub.  The depression doesn't make sense.  Although there is no specific reason for it to manifest, it does nonetheless.  The irony is that it can sometimes appear when one is genuinely happy with the rest of one's life.  This is the way it is for me right now. 

From past experience, I know that these feelings will pass.  I will retreat into my quiet space to recover physically and emotionally.  I will do whatever I can to create success around me.  I will function at the highest level possible for me right now since there really is no time in business to feel unproductive.  I will reach out to those closest to me... eventually... to let them know what's happening.  For some reason, shedding light on my polarities seems to make the shadows disappear. 

I don't take medications because as an artist those highs and lows make a difference to my creativity; at least, that's the story within which I've been living for many years.  I've tried drug, talk, and group therapies.  I've tried exercise and meditation.  The thing that seems to work the best for me is telling myself the truth of what is happening, and then telling someone I trust.

Often, I wonder if my ego helps bring me out of my blue periods, as I call them.  Once I say I am depressed to someone, I suddenly realize I don't want to be perceived that way by anyone, so my social self-preservation chemistry kicks in and I improve.  Although as someone who has been an Education Committee chairperson, trained to know that there should be no stigma to mental illness, those tapes from childhood about "crazy people" may work to my advantage.  I would never refer to anyone else in those terms, but in the privacy of my own mind, that difficult language pushes me toward recovery.

The truth is, though, that I do get tired of feeling like this.  It is exhausting hiding the grey skies in my heart while putting on the sunniest face possible to those I love.  I never intend to deceive anyone.  I only do this to prevent them from the burden of my challenges.  Everyone I know has burdens of their own.  They certainly don't need to worry about me in addition.  I'm the one to whom most people turn for support and nurture.  The loving smile, perceived wisdom, and eloquent language people have reflected they see in me is something on which others count. I can't say the number of times I've heard, "Jim, you're a rock!"

The problem is that this rock has a few cracks.  Sometimes I need someone to take my hand and tell me it's going to be o.k.  It would be wonderful to have someone find the right words to comfort me so that I can be the one who needs.  Most often, though, people become disquieted to think I need emotional support.  It's as though some part of their foundation is weakened when I stumble.  I know it's not completely true, but in their eyes, I can see there is a grain of truth there.

So, here I sit, trying to remember that the glimmer of light behind this rock is a warming break of dawn and not chilling sunset.  I work very hard at imagining a more joyful day coming, trying to look forward to something I have not yet imagined.  My faith in the Divine Essence helps a great deal in focusing my self-healing energy.  Perhaps that choice more than anything else tends to bring me out of my doldrums, my imagination of what could be possible and my trust that if I dream it, it could come true. 

Perhaps it's simpler than that.  As the lyrics in Rodgers and Hammerstein's Sound of Music remind me, "I simply remember my favorite things, and then I don't feel so bad." 
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References:

Astressfreeyou.com (2010) [Depressed man]. Astressfreeyou.com. Photograph. Retrieved from http://astressfreeyou.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/depressed-man.jpg

Chris-Barbara (2009, June) [The rock at dawn]. Travelpod.com. Digital photograph. Australia. Retrieved from http://images.travelpod.com/users/chris-barbara/1.1245891100.the-rock-at-dawn.jpg

Tufts.edu (2007) [Beekers of chemicals]. Ase.tufts.edu. Photograph. Retrieved from http://ase.tufts.edu/premedsociety/Old%20Site/chemistry.jpg