Here’s a few:
- Bipolar Disorder
- Postnatal Depression
- Depression with Psychotic Features
- Dysthymia
I suspect that my favorite flavor is dysthymia, a sort of bland vanilla version of the depressive mood disorders. I like mine served up with a bit of insomnia, inability to concentrate, ongoing irritability, and a dull but persistent pessimism.
Why bring this up now? And in this venue? Because blogging is one way that I choose to try to understand myself. I also believe that the things we do not want to talk about are exactly the issues we should confront in the open. Airing these things out has the benefit of removing shame, discovering hidden resources and helping others who suffer similarly to feel less isolated. I know that it’s high risk, and not everyone will be generous with such revelations, but the rewards are worth it.
You may wonder if there is a connection between my religious belief and depression. To quote Facebook, “It’s complicated.” My worst episode was my entire sophomore year of high school (which included my dalliance with cutting and some contemplation of suicide). I converted to Mormonism at the beginning of my junior year, and I credit the LDS Church for helping me by providing a social environment full of healthy relationships. I think I was depressed for the last part of my mission, but that might have been healthy grieving brought on by my dear grampa’s passing.
Later, the Church definitely exacerbated things by not giving me a space to question and to come to terms with my doubt. Sunstone and Outhouse countered this somewhat. Leaving Mormonism helped by stripping away much of the guilt that was at the root of my anxieties.
I’m not sure if this counts as religious, but the entry of the U.S. into Iraq launched a year long funk.
My career struggles have sparked episodes as well. My second worst bout came not with leaving the Church but with making the decision to turn down my acceptance into Stanford’s graduate program in Religious Studies. I’m trying to resolve this ongoing problem by divorcing my existential concerns from my career plans and my sense of self-worth from work.
I sometimes wish I didn’t spend so much of my life becoming self-aware. Some people seem to be born with a keen knowledge of who they are and what makes them tick. I imagine I’ll spend the rest of my life on a voyage of self-discovery.
At any rate, I seem to be climbing out of several months in the hole, and my time ‘down below’ has definitely impacted my presence here on Mind on Fire. I am grateful to xJane and Zach for keeping the blog going with stimulating posts. I’m especially grateful to xJane for her friendship, which manifests itself primarily through this blog (and occasional geeky forays into Anime conventions, German festivals and experimentation with absinthe).
My flavor of depression is not one of the severe varieties. But it affects my performance and the quality of my own life and of those dearest to me. There’s too much in this life to rejoice and revel in: a singular family, wonderful friends, a stimulating job, good health, and a glorious world.
So I’m going on a diet. I’m substituting my daily devouring of depression with healthier, happier fare. Regular helpings of creative stew. Maybe a bit of that bitter stuff that my doctor cooked up. Potlucks with friends. For dessert, reveries with a generous serving of sunshine.
13 responses so far ↓
1 Elaine // May 20, 2008 at 12:08 pm
John…Your description of dysthymia sounds very much like what I’ve been going through off and on for awhile now. In my case it has a lot to do with dealing with the fact of my mother’s declining health, with being her primary caregiver, and with feeling like I’m not really accomplishing anything in my own life, for myself.
Ah, well. I’ve taken up knitting, as I’ve probably mentioned before, and I can usually get excited about that even though I do still probably have a few too many days that I call my “don’t give a shit” days. I’m working on my writing again, which I wasn’t doing for awhile. And I’ve gotten the first two weeks in June off work to take my mother on a trip while she can still travel. Which is a good sign…a month or two ago, I wouldn’t have had the get up and go to ask off, much less plan a trip.
So maybe I, too, am starting to pull myself out of the blahs.
2 Jana // May 20, 2008 at 8:38 pm
Love, I find this nearly impossible to reply to for all kinds of reasons. I want my John to be happy, to be satisfied, to be my ever-genki boy. But I also appreciate the insight that comes from periods of difficulty, even depression.
Ganbatte and keep blogging, sweetheart.
3 John // May 20, 2008 at 9:15 pm
Elaine, I’m sorry that you have to bear such a burden. I admire your dedication to your adorable mother, but I have sometimes wondered what the cost to you has been.
Maybe embracing the little things–knitting, travel (where are you going?), an hour browsing in a bookstore, blogging–are enough to lift us up? At any rate, I’m glad we’re both on the upswing. Maybe we can help each other with the momentum.
Jana, thank you, my love. (smiling at you across the room as I type this)
4 Matt // May 20, 2008 at 9:26 pm
Hey, John.
I look for your posts everyday. This is a good day.
Thanks.
5 Elaine // May 21, 2008 at 6:35 am
The biggest cost to me with taking care of my mother has been feeling quite isolated at times. We get out just about every day, but often that has just been to a restaurant for a meal, to the grocery store, or a quick visit to the library (not to mention the doctor visits). There is the internet (which has saved my sanity a number of times), but that isn’t getting out and having real contact with people.
That’s why I not only took up knitting, but (through my best friend, who has been of enormous help to me but can only do so much because she teaches full-time) found a warm, welcoming knitting shop that keeps a knitters’ table going whenever the shop is open where we can go sit and talk and laugh while I knit. I’ve also joined the local chapter of Sisters in Crime (a group for writers and readers of mystery fiction) and go to their luncheon once a month while my mother spends time with my best friend. Doing those things has helped my emotional well-being a lot. Also, just knowing that people care helps a great deal as well.
Ah…where are we going on vacation? I’ve been having considerable angst about that. To go north or south? How many days to spend on the road? How much can my mother do? I woke up this morning knowing that we will be coming south. I’ve got an itinerary worked out where we will spend a few days in San Diego, a few days in the LA/Orange County area, and a few days up in Ventura County, where I grew up. I’ve got a few outings planned, and I think just the change of scenery in general will help as well.
6 John // May 21, 2008 at 11:16 am
Matt, that little comment was incredibly uplifting. Thank you. Also, I need to update my link to you, oh God-slayer!
Elaine, we’d love to have you and your mom over for dinner–please email me if you’re interested and when you know more about your plans!
7 Rich // May 21, 2008 at 6:26 pm
John,
Much as I heart xJane, I’ve missed you around here (I’ve been gone a while… busy and all). Keep feeding us bro, and hang in there; you have so much to offer the unwashed masses!
Once upon a time, I found [body]surfing to be the best antidote for the blues, FWIW. You have the ocean proximity, take advantage of it — a little saltwater up the nose will cure many an ailment!
8 Zach // May 21, 2008 at 7:39 pm
Sometimes I’m up
and sometimes I’m down
Sometimes I’m almost to the ground
It’s good to see you back in the saddle.
Zach
9 Elaine // May 21, 2008 at 8:02 pm
John…expect an e-mail in the next day or two. I’m firming up vacation plans at an alarming (and quite pleasing) rate now.
10 Asara // May 21, 2008 at 10:16 pm
John,
I’m grateful for you and your blog.
I hope your diet will be effective in lifting your mood.
11 xJane // May 22, 2008 at 4:43 pm
There seems to be something metaphysical swirling around these days. I have known of so many deaths, serious illnesses, and just plain weirdnesses—I’m sorry that you were not spared. I like thinking of it as a diet: today, I refuse to engage in self-pity, no matter how sick my father is, how far my fellow blogger is, or how much my sister tries to get my goat.
I take solace in the fact it’s raining (if off-and-on). That can only mean that something’s right with the world.
I’ve missed you, John, but understand that life takes us away. Just remember that blogs are online journals. It’s here to be your outlet, not another chore. Be well
12 JohnW // May 25, 2008 at 7:37 am
I’ve been trying to tell you my antidote: Swing Dancing
13 wren // May 27, 2008 at 4:59 pm
I appreciate your post here. I have been forced into self awareness in the last few years. Tis a blessing and a curse. Mostly a blessing.
It’s certainly increased my compassion for others. For part of self awareness is acknowledging that I’m as flawed as anyone. It’s helped me realize that many actions are the result of pain. Pain which came from the lack of awareness.
The church helped me with some healthy socialization too. And years later it hindered me as I learned how much people shoved below the surface to keep the myth of the ideal life afloat.
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