Like many creatives, I suffer from mental illness. My particular flavor is Bipolar Disorder. While I have been lucky enough to finally find effective medications to treat my debilitating mood swings, there are still times when I want to rot away in bed or jump out of a goddamn window. Unfortunately, no treatment is perfect.
Fortunately, I can usually tell when I’m about to trend high or low, but for the purposes of this post (because I’m currently in the thick of it) I will be focusing on the lows.
THE SIGNS:
- Sleeping too much, upwards of eleven hours a day
- Not eating enough (or, if we’re being really honest, at all)
- Lack of focus (ex. staring at the ceiling instead of doing my work)
- Lingering in bed in the morning, because I can’t imagine facing the day
- A heaviness in my arms, legs, and chest that metaphorically feels like drowning, and physically feels like I am a human dumbbell
With enough of these forces in play, I am able to label myself as Depressed with a reasonable degree of confidence. Now that I know what demon I’m facing, I’m able to adjust my medications and hope they work. Then a few days pass. And then a week. Suddenly it’s been a month, and my pants are a little loose because I’ve only been consuming meal replacement shakes and plain bagels. I upgrade myself from Depressed to Seriously Depressed.
I’m something of an expert at being Seriously Depressed—that sounded cooler in my head—and I bring the unfortunate news that Serious Depression sucks. It sucks ass. There’s no way around it.
There are plenty of old adages I could spout that would offer minimal comfort at best and insincere optimism at worst. Instead, I will tell you the mantra I repeat to myself with uneven breaths as I sit on my hands and close my eyes tight:
It will pass.
It probably won’t be today, and it likely won’t be tomorrow. But one day, you’ll be sitting on the couch watching reruns of Seinfeld and you’ll suddenly find yourself laughing at a joke. And then, God-willing, you will take a full, deep breath and exhale the sadness from your body.
There is no feeling in this world so incredibly good as coming out of a months-long depression. Colors regain their vibrancy. Foods regain their tang. You’ll find yourself sitting in the 7-Eleven parking lot, marveling at the flavor profile of a cherry Slurpee. How could a God create something so delicious, yet also create something so insufferable? But would we know how to enjoy the good without the bad? Can you have light without darkness?
Ignore these questions, they don’t matter right now. What matters is taking another sip of icy red sugar and feeling it hit the already-numb roof of your mouth. And when you get the inevitable brain freeze, revel in it. It’s proof that you are alive.