It’s The -Ber Months. Which Means…

Depression is a funny word when you say it around people from my culture. Growing up, it was used as a joke: “Poor people go crazy. Rich people get depressed.” I can even remember it being used as an insult… “Hey, it’s ‘Depressed,’ paying a visit. Let’s all act nice around her.”

I’ve suffered from depression for a long, long time. Probably since I was a kid. I don’t get treatment for it. I’ve grown up with the impression that this would be seen as “weak,” and that I was weak and all I needed was to get tougher to beat it (this is also what I was told every time it comes up). I’ve come pretty close to killing myself in the past because of it–it’s hard when that shit piles up and it becomes overwhelming, and you just stop seeing joy in everything. There were nights when I was a teenager where I just walked around in circles in my room, not knowing what to do with myself. I’ve sort of developed a “Give no fucks” attitude to conflict because of it.

Surprisingly enough, I’ve learned to cope. It involved a lot of self-reflection, spirituality, making sure everything else in my life is taken care of (exercise, diet, healthy relationships, and copious amounts of alcohol), and–as my friend Julie Midnight says–“Fighting like a bear.” It hasn’t made it go away. But it’s gotten me to this point, which is to say that I have high-functioning depression and anxiety and not a lot of people in my life know my struggles, which means I occasionally have to get into their face when they start making comments about other people with depression. “What do they have to be depressed about? Maybe if you’re more positive…” (Seriously, guys, those comments don’t help and can kill people. Just stop it. I’m one of the most positive people I know, I’m surrounded with some of the most positive and loving people in the planet, I am productive as fuck, and it’s still a bitch to deal with. I mean, the bitch is on a leash, but it’s still vicious.)

Which also means that I write like crazy partly to cope with all of it. Not, really, in some crazed attempt to soothe my ego or make me “feel” better but because creating stories numbs my brain and the act of writing them numbs my body and so I fall into this state of perpetual-exhaustion that I’m sure is unsustainable in the long run, but at least keeps me alive for now, keeps me productive for my family, gives me hope that someday I can make this work so that they’ll be provided for. Keeps me sane.

But I’m always scared that one little thing can set it off. I realized that the other day, when I caught my husband looking at me funny, because he said he gets worried when the -ber months start to rear its ugly head, as I slowly lose “sunlight” to add to my arsenal in the never-ending fight against the beast. I probably compensate by writing more. I don’t know. Definitely by drinking more. A booze-addled brain is better than gaping darkness.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s a lot better now than it ever was. I’ve got it down to a system, I think, and it works–so far. Go through the motions, write, eat healthy, 4k walk each day. Sometimes I get mad that it requires so much work just to keep normal and “sane,” but I remind myself it’s done some good. It all gets put into my work, anyway. That’s gotta count for something.

Anyway, I just thought I’d put my thoughts down on this because it’s 9 am and it’s still fucking dark outside…

2 Comments

  1. I can definitely relate. Good to read you’ve found a way to cope with it. For me, I found that switching off my emotions and bottling them up did the trick.

  2. Also been through serious bouts of depression basically since childhood, I had a normal loving family but most of my childhood was spent alone doing my own thing because I didn’t connect with people well.

    I have sought help and basically got all the same advice that you’re doing, get a routine that makes you happy/sane/atleastnuetral and just stick with it even if you really don’t fucking want to.

    I’m starting to get into an exercise routine and it’s helping a bit, also trying for 4-5k a day and it does feel good having a steady healthy routine.

    Thankfully I don’t get seasonal depression, I tend to like the dark and find it relaxing and calming. Good time to stay inside, cuddle up with someone awesome and spend time in stories.

    Depression sucks. Writing and reading helps.