“Where ignorance is bliss, ’tis folly to be wise.” Thomas Gray, Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College, 1742.
“The highest form of ignorance is when you reject something you don’t know anything about.” Wayne Dyer, American philosopher and author of bestseller Your Erroneous Zones.
Mental health was a subject I hid from for much of my life. I thought depression was feeling a bit low. Or a lot low, perhaps, but I had no consideration of the real symptoms; the true impact. I had no doctor’s diagnosis and I’d never Googled it. Really, I had no idea.
When its onset was so acute, would a little understanding have made coping easier? I think so. Certainly, I would not have been so scared, and over time I’ve learnt that with knowledge comes understanding, empowerment and the possibility of change.
Here are 14 things I wish I’d known about depression…
Depression is a paradox. Despite being more self-aware than at any time in your life, you think you’re going mad. As in loopy, deranged, bonkers. And this realisation is more frightening than thoughts of suicide. You. Are. Not. Going. Mad. Your brain has tripped. Its fuse will be replaced, but only when the body is ready. It needs time to cool down first, and rather obstinately, it refuses to be rushed.
Your memory is shot to smithereens and all the good stuff – and there is good stuff – is screened out. It’s a sleight of hand, a card trick to only show the jokers in the pack, except these memories are never in jest. Despite your negative recollections being so vivid, the positive moments have not fled completely. How you felt yesterday, or a month ago, or a year back, is equally real. You will remember it all again and sunlight will return. The clouds just need time to part.
Strange things happen when you are dragged through the vestibules of hell; wild emotions lurching to extremes. Your mind is numbed then pins and needles fizz across the skull. It’s the most curious of sensations and because it’s your head, you think you’re checking out. You’re not. Adrenaline, cortisol and norepinephrine are potent chemicals and right now your body is struggling to cope. There will be side-effects. If those pins and needles were in your left foot it’d be annoying, but you’d plod on. It’s just more disconcerting when it’s upstairs.
You lose the ability to read and write. Sentences cease to have meaning and your concentration is so poor, focussing on the printed word for more than a few seconds is beyond you. Unless it’s a subject that interests you. But there aren’t any of those, except, maybe, your own demise. Now here’s a topic you can play on repeat for hours, which brings us on to…
You will become a narcissist – and you will hate yourself for it. And in chastising yourself, you feel more narcissistic. It’s a self-torturing loop. Do I feel narcissistic writing this? Hell, yes. Don’t beat yourself up. Or carry on beating yourself up in the knowledge there are plenty more narcissists out there, and a lot of them aren’t even depressed.
Making a decision is the most tiring thing in the world. It makes sense. Your cognitive function is impaired. Comedian Charlie Higson played a landscape painter in the Fast Show, a genial character until the first mention of the word “black.” Then every option was black. Black. BLACK! When depressives are seen as apathetic in decision-making, it’s often because choosing which shirt to wear is just so bloody knackering.
The bleakest version of the world unfurls in all its desolate isolation. I won’t tell you this isn’t real, but you are looking through one horribly skewed lens in a spectrum of thousands. Not every alternative lens is positive, but all of them are better than the one you are peering through – and tomorrow it will be a different lens.
The opposite of depression is not happiness but vitality. Tying your shoe laces; walking to the shops; getting out of bed. These are monstrous efforts. Right now, don’t compare yourself to a Krypton Factor winner, but Atlas of Greek mythology, who had to lug a globe around with him. Anything you achieve today is titanic.
Anxiety is ugly. You have no notion of being an anxious individual and then it’s upon you when you least expect it. You have panic attacks, feel you’re choking, your sleep patterns are all over the place and the deprivation that brings exacerbates symptoms. Why is this happening? Your body is releasing stress hormones. It puts you on edge. It would be weird if you felt serene. Press your thumb and middle fingers together and sink into your heels to ground yourself. Close your eyes and breathe deeply.
You may as well eat baby food. Everything tastes bland anyway, so why not opt for those beige pots of paste? Your appetite heads south but keep eating. This is important. There are times when you’d like nothing more than to fade away, but you cannot do that, so you need to regenerate. There are 75 trillion cells in your body, which need replenishing. You will get better, but you’ll get better faster if you put in some fuel.
You have no idea you are in a hole until you look up and see how far you’ve fallen. Don’t stop scrambling, but the sooner you call out for a ladder, the faster you’ll climb out. And you know what else is surprising? The number of people willing to lend you that ladder. Just make sure you holler loud enough for them to hear.
Medication is not the answer, but neither is it the problem. It’s somewhere in the middle and it’s just another puzzle to figure out. It makes you worse before you start improving, there are side-effects, and taking the tablets feels like submitting. It’s not. It’s wrestling back control. There is no right or wrong on medication, but if it feels like it works, it works. Whatever your decision, though, stay committed.
Today Is Not Your Day. And on the back ‘Tomorrow Doesn’t Look Good Either.’ We’ve all seen those t-shirts. Sorry, there’s no way of sugar-coating this, today is not your day. But once you accept that pleasure is not the aim, it actually becomes easier. Trust me (even though you won’t), enjoyment will return. Right now, just put your left foot in front of your right foot. Vice versa. And repeat. As Winston Churchill said: ‘If you’re going through hell, keep going.’
You are changing – and it’s not all bad. It sounds trite but this is a journey from which there is no return. It opens your mind and what was once so important, now seems so trivial. It’s a rocky road; dangerous and frightening and exposing all your vulnerabilities. But it is also enlightening, enriching and empowering. No-one pretends it is easy and there are no guarantees, but be proud of your efforts, and be reassured you will emerge a far better person than you ever envisaged.
For more information on where to find help and support for yourself or a loved one, please click here!
