Waking up each day can be an act of defiance. Proving to myself that I can in fact, exist. It can be something that makes me feel alive or feel like I am a burden to myself or the world. Many days I shrink myself from existence, hoping to be noticed by no one. Ironically, my career is in education, actively having to be in front of a captive audience.
I am constantly searching my surroundings in a state of mild panic; and listening (unfortunately) to my brain that runs through the worst scenarios.
“What if that person slams into your car?”
“That car cut you off, RAM INTO THEM.”
“Your colleague didn’t say hello this morning, SHE HATES YOU.”
“Gideon you are wasting space, stop pretending you are making a difference.”
“Stay still, you won’t be noticed.”
“You will never fit in.”
“You look SO FAT today.”
Multiple times a day, multiple times an hour, minute, and second. Trying to not entertain these thoughts, and yet sometimes they persist.
I am exhausted.
I live with treatment resistant depression. It is exactly what it sounds like. My depression runs so deep into my brain that as of now, no medication or types of therapy have completely cured or alleviated it. Name any medication, I have probably tried it. Treatment? I have either done it, (TMS), or looked into it (ketamine). I am hoping that my depression will eventually give up the fight. But I also know that it might be here to stay for a long, long time.
If there is one thing that is making a difference, it is therapy.
My therapist and I are working through childhood memories through EMDR. We are uncovering a lot of things I have hidden over the years, and we are taking off the rose-colored glasses that I have been gripping on to for a long time. EMDR has allowed me to illuminate the pieces of myself that were so dark, for so long.
Over the past few months I have found my freedom in writing again, and while I have been working on writing fiction, there was an itch that I needed to write here and create this space. I needed to document the harshness that depression has had in my life. I needed a place to write a series of essays on my perception of life and the reality of living with depression.
I need to speak to the effect it has had on my life, and the mental warping it has done to me and what I am doing to combat it now.
I have loved writing for a long time, even on the days when I don’t write at all. I love the escape it provides and the truth that it can shine on any aspect of our lives. That is why books are so freeing, they allow us to see and be seen. Maybe that is cliche, but as I tell my students, behind anything cliche is the truth.
Depression is something I can no longer run away from. I used to think one day I would wake up and it would be cured completely as if I never had it. I no longer believe that. I wish it could be true, but I know it won’t be. I must learn to accept things that are a part of me. Do I wish to be free? Of course I do. I also wish to have six-pack abs, and yet I am still eating Nutella by the spoonful at night. I am changing habits where I can. I can still be hopeful that it will loosen its grip, but it’s complete disappearance is something that is no longer a reality.
I am indebted to my therapist who is guiding me through the recesses of my mind, into places my inner child is desperately holding on to as his truth, when in reality, I need to show him that maybe some aspects of growing up were not normal. I need to help illuminate the pieces of our life that are going to be hard to accept, but that in acceptance, he and I can finally have peace.
I am not seeking a cure for depression.
I am seeking more peace.
I chose the title of “Illuminate the Forest” for the symbolism of what forests can represent. In the area that I live, I am surrounded by beautiful forests, and I often get lost in the tranquil beauty they provide. When I am there, I am completely surrounded by the majestic power that these forests have.
When we illuminate something, we slowly bring the light in, or bring the light up, and we start to see more. Our eyes adjust, and we can take things in slowly. Too much light at one time can be shocking and make us turn away before we give our eyes time to adjust. Illuminate allows us to maybe see something more clearly, and more transparent than it was before.
I chose to think of my mind as a forest. A beautiful, not fully explored space. Some areas are well traversed and have well worn ruts and paths that are revisited daily, much to my chagrin. Other areas are dark and hidden, needing to be explored. New paths need to be taken, new ways of thinking need to be developed.
My therapist often reminds me, “what you resist, you persist.” Which in turn, creates more of those ruts. It is one of the most helpful concepts she has told me, in addition to the idea of “radical acceptance” which I will explain further in a future piece. It is incredibly difficult to travel new paths, to illuminate new spaces, but it is something I must continue to do.
The phrase “can’t see the forest for the trees” is an expression that I think wholly represents how living with depression feels. Little behaviors like thought patterns, intrusive thoughts, and the lack of energy; each aspect can be viewed separately as its own singular health malfunction—instead of seeing them all for what they are—lingering symptoms of depression. Taking a broader scope to my life has allowed me to realize many things that I assumed were normal for me, were not normal. This includes some awful coping mechanisms:
- Lack of energy
- Extreme quietness and unease in a lot of social situations
- Thoughts of suicide*
- Feeling an immense weight to carry other people’s emotions instead of my own
- Having a severe lack of boundaries
- Poor eating habits
- A huge identity crisis
This could go on, and go on it shall as I fully plan on being as open as I can in these essays. I write these things so they lose power over my mind. I write them so I can illuminate them and shine the light through every part of them and see them for what they truly are; negative thought patterns and warped perceptions of reality.
A long time ago, a former friend and I discovered the line in Anna Nalick’s song Breathe:
“… 2 AM and I’m still awake, writing a songIf I get it all down on paper, it’s no longer inside of meThreatening the life it belongs to…”
What we write can give power, and it can take it away. When I write about depression and my life and how it has affected my life, I am taking away its power to make me feel ashamed, hidden, embarrassed, and unworthy.
Thank you for being here, with me.