Gotta Keep Moving

I've known a lot of people that have been diagnosed with depression.  From what I know of it, depression is a little bit different for everyone.  I can not claim to know what it's like for others, but this is my story.

My doctor still uses printed sheets of paper in his practice.  He and his nurse use a laptop computer too, but at the end of every appointment, he hands me a sheet of paper that explains the treatment that I've received that day.  I carry that sheet of paper with me to check out after the appointment.  The lady that I hand the paper to, scans what the doctor has written, she schedules follow up appointments for any tests needed, and tells me how much I owe for the services rendered that day.  On the bottom of the sheet of paper is a list of my ongoing diagnoses.  Mild depression has been a mainstay on that list for the past decade. 

Maybe it's because I'm a stubborn man, or maybe it's because I know so many people that struggle more than I do, but I have a tendency to minimize my mental health issues.  My depression isn't consistent and it usually isn't deep.  It comes and goes, usually never lasting for more than several days at a time.  Perhaps once a year, it's longer and deeper.  Each year that one bout seems to last a few days longer.  Right now is that time of year. 

I have almost always refused medication.  A lot of anti-depressants come with side effects and the side effects have always seemed to outweigh the benefits of medication.  Besides, I'm ok 75% of the time. 

The best words I've written to describe mild depression, is that the world loses its color and food loses its flavor.  Everything becomes gray and bland.  The stronger depression is another animal.  My thoughts turn dark.  I develop a sense of impending doom.  I become anxious and can't sleep. 

I tend to fight it as long as I can.  Inevitably it overtakes me and I tend to wallow in it for a while.  I wouldn't say I'm suicidal, but the thought of death will occasionally cross my mind.  I can completely understand why some people choose to check out early, rather than continue to deal with life.  If I had major depression, had to live with these bouts for months at a time... That thought is unbearable.

I've learned two very important things about my depression issues; they will pass and I have to keep moving.  If I allow myself to stop doing my daily activities, the depression will overwhelm me and it becomes more than I can deal with alone.  So, I keep moving.  Getting out of bed in the morning, getting dressed and leaving for work requires a great deal more energy than normal.  A 10 hour shift feels like 20 hours.  Everything I do is forced.  A regular, average day is exhausting.  Remember that one of my symptoms of depression is insomnia.  So I do all of this with a lot less sleep than normal, which isn't that much sleep to begin with.

I don't normally reveal a lot of these personal things to the general public.  I made a commitment to myself as a writer, to never shy away from a topic, to never be afraid to write about the things that are real.  I have depression issues.  Because of this, there are a few things that I'd like you to know.

First, when a loved one is depressed, it's not your fault.  I'm not a psychiatrist, but I know that depression is caused by chemicals in my brain.  Depression is never logical.  I have experienced weeks of depression amidst some of the most successful moments in my life.  It can literally strike at any moment.

Second, just because someone doesn't act depressed, doesn't mean they aren't.  I have an amazing ability to function reasonably well, even when I'm hurting inside.  I've been hiding the way I feel for most of my life.  Rarely has anyone noticed anything amiss in my behaviour.

Third, people that are experiencing depression can not just snap out of it.  Depression doesn't work that way.  No matter how much you lecture, or tell jokes, or love someone, it is not physically possible for that person to just change the way they feel.

Fourth, trying to cheer up a depressed person is often annoying.  I will be polite about it, but inside I'm imagining punching you in the face.  How do I want you to react to my depression?  Usually I want to be left alone.  It's ok to check on me.  It's ok to call and text.  Don't expect me to respond.  I appreciate your concern.  Never, NEVER, lecture me about how grateful I should be during these times.  It will only make me angry and guilty.  Neither of these are good emotions when I'm feeling depressed.  Gratitude doesn't really penetrate the psyche much when your biggest battle is whether your going to get out of bed today.

I don't write this to elicit any sympathy.  In fact, your expressions of sympathy will likely annoy me further.  I only write this because it's not a topic that you read a lot about.  As a writer, it's something that I experience, and I strive to put my experiences into words.

As always, I've set a standard for my depression.  If it doesn't improve in the near future, I will consult my doctor and he and I will address any treatment that I may need.  I feel like this column is a little bit all over the place.  If it is, I'm not sorry.  Writing it has taken me days, and that's ok.  I just gotta keep moving right now.

Peace. 

Throwin' Rocks

I started to write this column two days ago. I worked on it more last night. Then, like I often do, I scrapped the whole thing. This time, I didn't start over because I didn't like the writing. I started the column over because I lost steam and the way I felt changed.

You see, I wanted to write a blistering column.  I intended to write one that was offensive, that challenged the way we think. I was excited.  Angry rants are my favorite things to write. Those diatribes, fueled by pent up angst, when I can pop the cork off and let it all hang out. 

I've avoided arguing on social media for a long while now. I learned that debates on Facebook never change any one's beliefs. They only serve to leave me frustrated.  This column was going to serve as the release valve. 

I'm upset by the response to the protests in Baltimore.  Just like I was upset about the response to the ones in Ferguson. And the ones in New York City. I'm upset about the racism and the public shaming of those in poverty. 

So I started writing a column about cops that murder people in the line of duty. I wrote with gusto, enjoying the angry words as they spilled out onto my laptop.  As I wrote, the anger slipped into sadness, and I didn't want to rant anymore. 

Today, I'm just sad about the whole god damned state of our country. I'm sad that racism still exists, whether it's inadvertent or intentional. I'm sad that I live in a country where cops kill more people than all of the other top 10 developed countries combined. I'm disgusted that our cops kill more Americans than terrorists do. More people are killed in America by cops, than troops in Afghanistan and Iraq combined. 

I feel a sense of hopelessness, that more Americans are angry about a few people burning down a pharmacy and throwing rocks at cops, than are angry about a cop shooting a man in the back as he ran away, or cops killing a man for having a switchblade knife. After 50 years of peaceful protests, racism still exists and that makes me sad. 

Yes, I'm still angry. I'm always angry. But today I'm sad that so few other people are angry too. 

The NSA tracks all of our text messages and keystrokes on the Internet, but no one keeps track of how many people are killed by cops.  This has to change and it has to change now. 

Am I advocating violence?  No, absolutely not.  I don't believe it's ever ok to throw rocks at people, or any other living thing.  But I understand, that peaceful protests and marches haven't worked.  Something has to be done to get our attention.

Over 1,000 people killed last year.  The exact number?  No one knows.  Why are Americans ignoring this?  Is it because over half of the people killed by cops are mentally ill?  A large number of those killed are black men?  In this country, we just sit in our recliners every night and pretend like this isn't an issue?

I'm sad, so very, very sad.  I'm sad because it's going to happen again.  There are going to be more riots, because there are going to be more people murdered by cops.  And it's your fault, and my fault, because we ignored it for too long.