Depression is a Bitch

Before you reach for a prescription, please consider these things

But first a disclaimer: I am not writing about debilitating depression here. Depression is a serious mental health issue that requires professional help. The approach I discuss here is simply that: my approach. I urge you to find what works for you.

Introduction

The big black dog. This is how Winston Churchill described his dance with depression.

It’s called many other names as well: low mood, melancholy, the blahs, or, this one is more scary sounding: clinical depression.

I think of depression as a bitch. But before I reach for the Prozac, I want to sit with this dark doggo and see what it can teach me.

Hello, darkness my old friend.

Did you get Simon and Garfunkel playing in your head with that line? You’re welcome.

If you’re familiar with my story, you know I stopped wine a few months ago. I also stopped the small dose of antidepressant the oncologist prescribed back when I was first diagnosed with breast cancer on January 6, 2022.

I’m sure the Effexor helped me not completely unravel during cancer treatment. And I know the wine did a right proper job of numbing the whirlwind of emotions.

But lately, I sensed a shift in me. It was time to quit numbing. It was time to sit with the low mood and allow the grief to have its day in court, if you will. Compounding the dark mood was the estrogen blocker, it’s a common side effect.

I told my oncologist about this in a recent tele visit. She suggested another course of anti-depressants. It will also help with the joint pain, another common side effect of the blocker.

Not so fast, doc! I declined. I told her if she was aware of all the stuff going on in my life, she’d probably feel depressed too.

And bloody hell, is there anyone in your world who isn’t dealing with some level of depression after the cluster fuck of the past few years? Not to mention the ongoing sickness of our culture.

How do I cope with Depression?

First, I don’t like the idea of “coping” with depression. In America, this means reaching for a prescription. Then there are all the things that you know to do: exercise, eat right, change your thinking patterns, etc. etc. That last bit is only more fodder for the sadness because you know what you should do, and…you don’t. You lack the energy.

An aside: quit shoulding on yourself.

I bet right now you could rattle off many interventions for depression. If you’re like me, you’ve even offered helpful advice (using the sarcastic font there) to friends suffering with depression.

This is serious stuff, friends. Depression and its conjoined twin, anxiety, is running rampant.

We must look beyond medicating and ask some hard questions.

For starters, ask yourself, why am I feeling depressed? If “I don’t know” pops into your head first, I hear you. Depression is a wily asshole, and it likes to skirt around the issues and hang out in a vague nebula of heavy weariness. Sometimes trying to track down its cause is like trying to grab fog.

This is where the work begins. Our bodies are brilliantly designed. Your pulse, your blood pressure, respirations, all the functions in your body are in a constant state of checks and balances. It’s why your heart pounds faster when you’re climbing the stairs or why your blood pressure is elevated at the doctor’s office.

It’s no different mentally. When something is afoot, our mental health will send out smoke signals. And it will keep turning up the volume until it can get our attention. Depression and anxiety bring a message. Here, this dude said it so well:

“It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society.” Jiddu Krishnamurti.

So, there’s that. Our culture is incredibly sick. The widening gap between the have’s and the have not’s. The constant pummeling of the rage du jour on social media. Economic struggles. A health care system that creates a shit ton of stress for multiple reasons.

It’s the emotional equivalent of covid. We are isolated and fighting mad.

And this is where learned helplessness steps in. The “what’s the use” helpless feeling as you look at the breakdown of systems that used to honor human needs instead of feeding the rapacious appetite of for-profit overlords.

The struggle is real. What CAN be done? Pick a sword and join the cacophony of raging voices? Yeah, that doesn’t work so well.

I must first look within.

Dammit, it always comes back to me. What are the things within my control? How can I look at the depressing feelings with compassionate curiosity?

That’s a good starting point. A quick inventory of my life as it is right now reveals some foundational gaps in my “Maslov’s Hierarchy of Needs.” That’s some bigly shit right there. The divorce alone rattled any sense of security I had. (Even though that security was fleeting during the last few years of marriage.)

We must address basic needs instead of being so quick to reach for pills.

If someone is hungry, do you send them to a seminar on how to quiet the hunger pains or do you feed them? (Notice I didn’t say “teach them how to fish.” They probably don’t like fish anyhow.)

Similarly, I read an article once about a big corporation who was offering stress reduction yoga workshops to increase productivity.

Yo, assholes at the top, how about livable wages and a workplace culture that treats workers with dignity?

Looky there, how’s that for a kick in the gonads, depression?

If you knew right now that all your needs would be met, that you could pay your power bill AND your medication copay, while having secure, affordable housing, would that ease the depression?

I betcha it would. That’s because this is not depression, this is a survival struggle that creates depression.

Back to you, dear reader. Take an inventory of your life. Is your marriage unhappy, like mine was for many years? Do you need to find another job? Another huge thing for me was when I quit organized religion because the toxicity of it got to be so big as to not ignore anymore.

If you sit with the depression, it will tell you. It’s scary. It will invite you to stare into the beady little eyes of the unknown. This includes letting go of some relationships.

Getting rid of energy-draining relationships is important too.

I love this quote:

“Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, first make sure that you are not, in fact, just surrounded by assholes.”― William Gibson.

Letting go of my marriage was the hardest thing I’ve ever done-yes, even harder than cancer. It took me several years to admit that the marriage had run its course, and it was time to let go and move on.

I am honoring the struggle. Ain’t no medication going to fix that grief. It must be lovingly processed. (This is where a good friend, a coach, or a therapist can help you.)

By the way, sometimes it is the voices in my head that are the acting assholes. The negative chatter and the compulsive playing repeatedly of worse case scenarios. Oh yes, I am my own worst enemy.

I must address my relationship with myself first.

Back to that black dog.

Yep. Still here. I didn’t write my way into a happier space this morning. And even though I write because it is my way to process things and hopefully encourage others, today’s musings didn’t lift the fog (though coffee helps!).

I am totally okay with that.

Meanwhile, I am doing all that good advice stuff that I alluded to above. Clean up my diet more, exercise, be aware of energy-draining relationships and set boundaries.

But most importantly, I’m going to love this black dog. Scritch its ears, let it curl up at my feet, and listen to what it has to say.

It’s also good to know that if I feel the need for medication, I only need to ask. In the meantime, I am taking action on those things that are empowering.

Where there is life, there is hope!

As I watch the leaves turn colors and drop from the trees, I am reminded of the ephemeral nature of this life. The only constant is change. Life is full of great joy and also great suffering. It’s all normal. And it’s all part of the human experience.

If you’re struggling with depression, I see you. You are not alone.

I am saying this to myself and I’ll say it to you too: Take a deep breath, beloved. This too shall pass.

Conclusion

Please, please, please, if your black dog is smothering you, get help. You don’t have to do this alone! Start with a call to 988, the 911 for mental health if you will.

Thanks so much for reading. You can find me around the internet at www.theresawinn.com, on Facebook, LinkedIn and Instagram. If you’d like to support my writing in a small way, feel free to buy me a coffee.