Butt kickin'

I'm getting my butt kicked by this depression. Add in anxiety, depression's best friend, and I am a wreck. I really need to get my medication worked out, because I can't continue much longer going the way I am now--I'm overly anxious about my children, my work, my dissertation; I have many things that need to be done but I start to feel paralyzed and end up sitting and staring off into space, desperately trying to calm my nerves. And all I really want to do is let the depression wash over me and take me down, but I have just enough energy and sense of responsibility that I can't seem to let that happen (whether this is good or not is yet to be determined).

There's not a lot to say, except that I really hate the way I'm feeling right now. I'm tired of the constant stomach ache, the restlessness, and ultimately feeling paralyzed. It's just a cruel situation and I have no clue what to do.

Emotional Inversions

One problem with dealing with depression is that even when good things are happening it's hard for it to be enough. Right now, things are definitely moving in a much better direction, but everyday still feels like I just have to keep on working through every moment. In a non-depressed state, if I remember correctly, the good things, the good moments, they're enough and every day doesn't feel like work. I know I'm on the way out of the depression, but it's still so much work and I'm so tired of work with little return. It is hard for me to write a lot right now, just because my thoughts seems so repetitive and every day is just a lot of hard work without a lot of insight. Since this blog is supposed to be about "relearning" happiness, it doesn't seem quite right to simply write about all of the depressing thoughts I have. Anyway, I'm just slogging through every day right now. Wish there was more.

But it is an interesting conundrum--good things in and of themselves don't create the emotion of happiness, at least not for me. Depression is like a coating over everything, a veneer that makes the reality of the thing/moment/event different for the depressed person as compared with a non-depressed person. It was once described to me as a fog, or inversion, that makes it impossible to see, regardless of what you know as real. In a heavy fog, you may know there is a mountain, or river, or whatever, in the landscape, but the fog makes it impossible to see. With depression you may well know that there are good things in your life, but the depression makes it really difficult to see; it makes it hard to allow the good thing to work in your life. So how do you get the depression to burn off? What causes fog to burn off? What causes an inversion to dissipate? I'm not sure how the physics of this metaphor translate into the emotional reality. I'll have to think on that some more.

In the Moment

Well, I am finding that I can keep the depression at bay if I make myself focus on one thing at a time. This is harder than it sounds, but I'm finding that this seems to be the greatest benefit so far of starting Tae Kwon Do. During Tae Kwon Do I must focus solely on my body and the different activities our teacher is putting us through. And during this time I do not think about depression at all, I'm totally focused. So now I'm trying to do the same thing in other areas of my life: when I'm fixing food for the family, that's all I try and think about; when I'm getting up in the morning I only think about one thing--getting up (okay, 2 things, getting the kids off to school); but the trick for me is not to think about all of the things I need to do during the day or all of the things I want to get done. I think I am easily overwhelmed so I need to consciously focus my thoughts--write my abstract, review for my lab, practice the guitar, practice Tae Kwon Do, get the kids snacks, etc., etc. All of this seems to be helping a bit, but it's very strange and difficult to do. Usually I am thinking of at least 10 things at any given moment, and there tends to be an undercurrent of overwhelming myself emotionally. Maybe this is what is meant, at least in part, about being present or completely "in the moment." That seems to work for children--everything is about the "now" for them and even though their emotions tend to be a bit more raw, it seems like they can enjoy things more easily and get over disappointment much faster. So, this is my new strategy--focusing on what I'm doing at the moment. I'm not sure if this is making me "happy" but it sure as hell beats what I've been feeling over the last year.

Medley of Thoughts

What you can control:
My children are each struggling with various issues and I am trying to tell them that they need to learn to recognize those things they have control over and those things they don't. If they don't have control over something, then they need to let it go and not worry. If they do have control over something, then they have choices and can make them. Sounds like good advice, advice I should take for myself.

Metaphor for depression:
It feels as if my depression is an ocean and I can either sink or swim--but my swimming these days is simply a daily struggle to do the things I need to; swimming is not the opposite of depression, that would be land (in this metaphor). Depression is the water and if I don't struggle with it daily it will surround and consume me. Unfortunately, I'm not a very strong swimmer these days, but even dog-paddling is something and keeps me afloat. What I really want is to be on solid ground.

From your pet:
I bought a "Real Simple" magazine journal the other day. The title article is "Be happier this year" and it has 9 strategies to get there. I haven't learned a lot from it, but thought I would share a few things I liked. One article was 5 things you can learn from your pet:
1. Celebrate everything
2. Just being present is enough
3. (Brain) size doesn't matter
4. Don't try so hard
5. You can get along with anybody

So, this is my medley of thoughts for today.

One Thing is Certain

I may not know a lot of things, but one thing is certain: my bliss is in academia. Yesterday I got a phone call from a prof at the TC campus asking me if I could help teach the Bio 106 lab. That one invitation onto campus life was like a jump start. I'm struggling still, but suddenly there is something to struggle for. I know it must sound terrible that teaching can do for me what my children and family life can't, but that's the way it is. Maybe it is because my family is an extension of myself, whereas academia is simply at the core of my soul. It always has been, and it's emotionally costly for me to not be involved. I love being around people who are passionate about what they are studying and who love to discuss ideas. The subject doesn't really matter; I am happy studying or discussing literature, physics, history, linguistics, political science, art, anthropology, forensics, biology, enviornmental science, or botany. I think the only subject that might not make my list of fascinating things to study would be buisness, but almost anything else I can find interest in. :)

So knowing this should help. I've always sort of known, but after my experience yesterday, it has become quite clear and I am quite certain that for me to be truly happy I need to be in an academic setting, surrounded by people who love to learn. I'm an academic idealist, yet I am realistic enough to know that not everyone in academia feels the same way I do. But there are enough people out there who do; and there's always a student or two whose imagination catches fire with the right enthusiasm from a teacher. That's the stuff I love. That's the stuff I'm meant to be involved in. Now, I just need to remember that finishing my damnable dissertation is not about the dissertation but about getting myself in a position that will open the doors to a wide variety of academic positions. . . that is why I need to finish at this time, so my options remain open and that soon this type of life will be mine for the making.

Emotional Quadriplegia

Sometimes I think it would be helpful if there was an obvious physical disability that was associated with depression, such as being quadriplegic. That way others, myself included, could be duly impressed when I did things such as get myself out of bed in the mornings, make dinner for the family, read with the kids, help out in the kids' classrooms, or work 1-2 hours on my dissertation. If you saw a quadriplegic doing a bunch of these activities, you'd be amazed at the level of activity, especially given the level of disability. Being depressed can be like being an emotional quadriplegic, at least in it's severest forms. Sometimes I have to remind myself of how amazing my activity level is. This weekend I actually made two meals for my family, got dressed up and went to church and stayed the entire time when all I could think about was how nothing in life seems valuable or worthwhile--not even death.

I hate feeling this way, it's worse than feeling like sleeping all the time, for at least there is the desire for something, even if it is just sleep. As it is, sleep isn't all that desirable, nor is escaping in books or movies. All there is is a grand nothingness that is hard to fight. Fighting is almost impossible because there is no desire, so what is worth fighting for? And tomorrow I need to get the kids off to school and then what? Well, I'll just have to wait and find out what this emotional cripple can accomplish tomorrow.