Photo-credit : Andrew Kerr (Me)
While out on a scouting shoot I found some old ruins of a farm house. Through the window, of what appeared to be an outhouse, I could see the fallen walls of the obviously once sturdy structure.
In the midst of the ruins I was reminded of how impermanent even the most formidable structure can be. This got me thinking about how we ourselves can lose sight of the inevitability of our own mortality. I have to be careful of such thoughts because in the past I suffered from depression. Depression is a foe that only preys on those who entertain it.
It only takes one moment of self pity to start your journey with a foe that masks itself as your empathetic friend. Dep (as I eventually nicknamed him, with no deference to the brilliant actor of a similar name) first approached me in 2012 just after my divorce.
"You poor thing," he whispered,"No one understands. You are a single father now and it's not easy. Your wife was emotionally, mentally and even sometimes physically abusive - who could ever understand how emasculating that is? NO ONE, Unless they had been through it themselves. You are all alone and everyone blames you for your failed marriage."
Dep's soft voice spoke from deep inside my mind, but as audibly as if he was external to me.
Over the months my depression deepened and found a place to root in every negative thought I had. Amplifying even the most ridiculous negative thought about myself and elevating it to indisputable fact. Dep was a master manipulator, a skilled confidence trickster with intimate knowledge of our inner workings, our deepest fears, and our worst insecurities.
It wasn't until 8 months later when I found myself in an antidepressant-and-anti-anxiety-medication-cocktail induced zombie-like state, in which Dep was finally silenced, that my mind was able to deduce the truth.
WE are not depressed... WE ARE DEPRESSION!
We are DEP, there is no one talking to us but ourselves. We indulge in self-pity. Then, because life is not sunshine and roses, we indulge in some more.
Now don't fall into the trap of saying "Oh it's JUST self-pity..."
It's like the riddle says "Which is heavier? A ton of feathers of a ton of steel?"... Of course the answer is neither but in this case a ton of negative self talk is just as heavy.
The only problem is that it is easier to lift a weight off your shoulders than it is to stop pitying yourself, because in your mind you are not pitying yourself but rather giving yourself the empathy that you so desperately lack from the outside world. Worse still is that these days we have sympathetic friends and they deepen our bond with Dep, and the friends who actually do the right thing by telling you to "Snap out of it!" are relegated to callous and cold-hearted by none other than Dep.
In my moment of clarity a stopped my medication but also started capturing every thought or negative self-talk that would and another feather to my ton. The first time things got too much after that, I did something new... I walked outside and screamed at the top of my lungs until I started laughing at my own lunacy. It was crazy but I broke the self talk cycle, and now I break it every time Dep tries to talk to me.
Dep may start off making me feel good but all too soon I would be in his clutches again.
I liken it to a box of Kleenex: When we have only taken one or two sheets it seems like the box will never empty but eventually it does empty... One sheet at a time.
We need to see depression as a bunch of layers that need to be stripped away until none remain. We also need to stop putting that next layer on.
We don't choose depression but by choosing to listen to our self pity we invite it to sit in our doorway, then into our lounge, and then finally to be part of us as intimately as we would a lover.
After Dep has our ear we find comfort in the empty pity offered by the label of depression, we have been deluded by those who make a living off of it into thinking that we have to fight it as a single indestructible foe.
I put to you that in today's victim culture we find it easier to accept the casual dismissal of "Shame he/she has depression" Than to dust ourselves off and endeavor to scale our Everest one step at a time or, if a mountain seems to daunting of a metaphor, To empty our Kleenex box one tissue at a time.
We have allowed ourselves to be deluded into thinking that once we have been defeated on the battlefield we are defeated in the war.
We lose the will to fight because we gave it all we had and we lost. We need to realize that few battles are won in a single blow.
Even the knock out king Mike Tyson found that out eventually.
All battles are fought in stages you don't magically appear at the venue hot blooded and ready to fight. How do we arrive at our chosen battlefield?
Even inside the battle, it is rarely as simple as one blow decides the fate of either party. We suffer setbacks and even temporary defeats. In our weary states-of-mind we convince ourselves that the battle is the war and if we are defeated we lie down and wallow in self pity...
Herein lies the seed of depression. It germinates and takes root and soon we find ourselves in the dark shadow of the undergrowth of our own delusion.
We have deluded ourselves into believing that the weight of depression is a singular event, instead of the compaction of layers and layers of self-talk that convinced us that we are incapable. So to the wounded and weary I dare say "pick your first foe, ignore the rest" contrary to the movies it is almost impossible to handle multiple foes at once.
Fight until you defeat that one foe. Whether you win or lose, now you are stronger and now you are wiser. If you lost... Go to bed, then start again at one. If you won... Go to bet and start again at one but choose the next foe. Life is a series of battles and we can fight them one by one or let them become a horde and overwhelm us. The choice is entirely ours to fight our battles in the chunks that we can handle or we can face the overwhelming scourge when we wallow in a self designed and created mire.
