I went through a pretty rough patch a few weeks ago—like, stay in bed until four o’clock on a Sunday rough, stomach’s so upset you can’t finish your lunch rough, harboring doubts about your entire life’s direction rough. The worst of this miserable cesspool overcame me for two and a half days (about 54 hours by my count), but its effects lingered for the next two weeks as smaller problems that wouldn’t normally bother me started hitting me hard—and that was all kinds of not fun.
I’d rather not share the specifics of what set off this depressive episode, though in retrospect I’ve realized that it was caused by a lot of different factors, including Day Job problems, personal issues, Coronavirus risks, the fact that it’s fucking cold and murky during the Toyama winter, and some bigger concerns about not making progress in my creative work. This made it harder to pin down what was really making me feel bad.
And on that note, many, many thanks to the friends in both Japan and back home who took time out to talk, email, or text when I needed it the most—you know who you are, and you helped me through a really rough time.
Though the worst seems to be over, meandering through the depressive cesspool of suck for two weeks has made me think more about the role these episodes have played in my life both personally and creatively, and how I (and you) can deal with them in the future.
So, let’s talk about what happens when you feel shitty.
I Used to Feel Depressed Kind of a Lot, and It Taught Me Some Decent Survival Strategies
As I alluded to in last month’s post on pushing yourself further, I went through a rough patch after college when my life didn’t seem to be going anywhere. I’d just broken up with my girlfriend, I was working a temporary internship with a lake association, I was broke and living with my parents in the middle of the New Hampshire woods, and I had no idea where my life was going.
More than anything else, it was that uncertainty, and the feeling of failure (both current, and future) that made it difficult to concentrate, both at my Day Job and in my personal projects (which at the time were mostly job searching with some writing thrown in). Some days I stayed in bed for a long time, and some days during work I just stared out the window not doing anything (fortunately I had my own office and it was easy to avoid detection).
I went through another rough patch during grad school. This one wasn’t nearly as severe overall, but it lasted much longer and included some troubling low patches. I found out afterward that a lot of the people I was in grad school with suffered from depression or anxiety in some form, and in retrospect I really wish we could have been more open about it with one another.
Looking back, I probably also should have sought some sort of professional help during one or both of these times. I had other ways of coping, though: I wrote in my journal a lot, talked to trusted friends and tried to be as social as I could, and ultimately worked those difficulties into my writing—with the recreation of real-life problems through meaningful art being particularly therapeutic.
All three of these coping mechanisms were really important, and with this latest depressive episode I instinctively jumped to two of them (journaling and reaching out to friends), which helped expedite my recovery. Whether I’ll work the impetus behind this latest episode into my writing, though, has yet to be determined ;-)
Another thing I ultimately found really helpful was taking steps to distance myself from the circumstances that were causing my depression in the first place. In the year after college, picking up a substitute teaching job and looking more seriously into teaching abroad provided me with a HUGE boost of confidence and helped me find direction, while finishing grad school and cutting the unhealthy social connections that had been dragging me down also worked wonders.
With this last paragraph, I certainly don’t mean to espouse a “suck it up and pull yourself up by your bootstraps” mentality. On the contrary, one of the brutal catch-22s of depression is that the depression itself makes it more difficult to deal with the circumstances that are causing that depression, like a virus that attacks the white blood cells that are supposed to be fighting it off in the first place. It’s not impossible to heal, but the virus itself makes it damned difficult, and it’s really easy for bystanders who aren’t affected by said virus to tell you to just suck it up.
I don’t judge anyone who deals with mental illness of any kind, nor do I want to tell people who do to suck it up and deal with it. But in my case, during moments of comparative clarity, I was able to deal with my circumstances little by little and eventually work myself into a more positive spiral.
The big takeaway, though, is that if you’re going through rough patches, it’s best to know what tools you can use to deal with them. In my case the tools are journaling, talking to friends, making art, and distancing myself from the bad circumstances.
…but that being said, when you’re mired in the throes of debilitating gloom, it can be pretty hard to reach for those tools.
I Get Depressed Less Often Now, But Try to Deal with It as I Can
Nowadays I only fall into what I’ll call depressive episodes once a month or less. These episodes usually last between 24 and 36 hours, and with the exception of what happened this month, I find myself able to deal with them more easily.
When I start feeling bad I try to step back and remove myself from all non-essential work and gather my thoughts, either by journaling, thinking deeply about what’s going on, or talking to someone. I’ve also found it incredibly helpful to immerse myself in my favorite books or movies—this latest spell found me pulling up The Natural with Robert Redford, one of my all-time favorite movies and an inspiring story about rekindling your passion when you’re a little older. Getting back in touch with great art like this reminds me why I want to be a writer in the first place, and encourages me to keep going.
In general, though, as long as you’re not facing super-strict deadlines, there’s no shame in taking time away to recover, since continuing to move forward when you feel shitty might be better in the short term, but almost always makes the problem last longer. Taking time off to recover and gather your thoughts, on the other hand, means that when the bad times pass you’ll be able to dive back into your regular life with renewed vigor.
All that being said, of course this is just my personal experience with depressive episodes—I know people whose problems are much more severe than mine, and require more drastic actions and treatment. If you belong to this category, do know that I’m not comparing my problems with yours or saying that what works for me will work for you too. Instead, I write about my experience in hope that it’ll help people understand their own problems and how to deal with them, just like I do with all sorts of topics on this blog.
I’ve also learned over the years that for creative people, feeling depressed at least some of the time comes with the territory. A lot of well-known writers dealt with depression and alcoholism, as plenty of other creative people did and still do.
Maybe it’s that desire to engage with a world on a deeper level and share meaningful experiences with others that causes the dizzying highs of creative fulfillment along with the gut-wrenching lows of depression. Maybe we’d be a lot more mentally stable if we just gave up our dreams, resigned ourselves to our Day Jobs, and focused on making six-figure salaries and settling down with two-and-a-half kids in a big house in the suburbs where we could watch a lot of TV.
But that wouldn’t be any fun, would it? ;-)