A man took his own life. I didn’t know him, except through the way he entertained so many of us, but it’s shocking and sad. This all hits too close to home. This isn’t easy to share.
Early today, I felt a familiar burden overwhelm me, darken my mood and press down hard on my chest. “Well, crap.” I said aloud. “I’m depressed.”
Over the past few months, the struggle has been harder. It’s something I’ve wanted to write about, but I’ve never felt comfortable sharing the fact that I have depression.
Depression seems so self-involved. I do not want you to see me that way. I’m a strong, smart-ass, glass-is-half-full-of-water-half-full-of-air, wise-crackin’ Queen of the Wild Frontier. I want to make you laugh, think and feel like you’re the most important, unique person who isn’t alone in some of the weird thoughts or strange habits you have. Even though this is a personal blog, I don’t want to focus too clearly on me, unless it’s weird, cat-related or funny.
I treat my problem with healthy diet and exercise. It’s really the only thing that gives me footing as I pull away from the vortex of negative energy. I’ve tried a few different pills, but nothing worked for me like eating clean and moving. I know the drugs do wonders for others. But when I get sick and can’t work out, or if I eat sugar/fat exclusively for several days, the cruel thoughts come roaring back.
So after 2 surgeries in 6 months (minor things, but no activity for 6 weeks after each) and a summer cold 4 weeks after my return to the gym, the darkness came back, with a vengeance.
Depression is bleak. It’s painful. It’s a lying bastard that removes color from the world and leaves you hopeless in a corner of your own mind, feeling terribly alone no matter who is around you. Depression lies.
You may wonder how an intelligent, logical man could ever think killing himself is the right thing to do. I understood. You hurt and are just tired of decades of hurting. Suddenly the bleakness is all you see. The sadness seems to lay on you like the air around you has turned into heavy black wool and you just want the pain to end.
Even at my worst, I have never considered ending my life be an option. I know how empty the world is after you lose somebody you love and I would never hurt my family, my husband or anyone around me that way.
Luckily I have learned how to recognize that depression is a condition. I treat it like it’s a migraine, medicate it with meditation, breathing, movement. I’m also lucky to have a partner who treats it like a medical problem too. When I realized it was back today, Seen asked what he could do. There wasn’t an easy answer. It’s not like cheering somebody up, because there is no cause. There is no reasoning with depression.
But he took me to the beach. We watched surfers and he let me lean my head on his shoulder and just be for a few minutes. It helps to see the world outside of your head. It helped to think that everything in the world is related, I’m a part of the surf, the surfer, the sand, the seagulls and the little girl playing in the ocean. The burden started to lighten.
We came home and he sat down at his computer. “Robin Williams is dead.” He said.
All of us are in such a state of shock, not just because he wasn’t old, or visibly ill. We are in shock because he was such a vital, bright light and none of us really want to believe that such light could shine from someone so deep in darkness.
Stinky Junior 