A Message from the Dark Side
Inside Depression
Read Time: 6 minutes
On many other occasions, I have written about my battle with depression. Over the years of this blog and postings for other organizations, only one other subject has generated the same level of response as the depression blogs. It seems millions and millions of people all around the world are touched by this black hand.
In my last posting on the subject, December 9, 2023, I decided to write about the process from the inside. I would simply wait until the next attack and make notes of what took place. I have waited almost two and a half years for this vicious enemy to attack once again. I did not know when, nor did I know the circumstances, but my history indicated that somewhere in the future the battle would be engaged.
A few months ago, without warning, I found myself inside the box.
Monday
5:30 AM
Sunday had been a wonderful day. A long bike ride in the mountains and dinner with friends made for an enjoyable day. On Sunday evening, as we went to bed, my wife and I talked about how blessed we are. Our family is a joy, our friends are wonderful, and our retirement has been embraced. As we turned off the light, I thought, " Does life get any better than this?”
I usually do not wake to an alarm. My body clock is set for around 5:30, and though I may go back to sleep after waking, I do know when it is time to get the day going. On this Monday, my internal alarm sounded at 6:30 AM, but I could not get out of bed. It was as though I was paralyzed, with no ability to move.
I was covered with a blanket of sadness. Holly had gone for an early hike with friends, so the room was dark. I tried to roll over, but I was frozen in one position. I waited, knowing that my enemy had returned, and for the first time in almost two years, my mind and body were under attack.
Depression had made its move, and I was the target.
Around 9:30 AM, my efforts to get out of bed had paid off. I made my way to the bathroom to see if I had taken my medication the day before. Several years ago, I had gone to a psychiatrist who had said, “I can have you come in twice a week at $250 an hour for the next few years, or I can prescribe medication1 that will cost you about $20 a month. Which do you want?”
I chose the medication. He had only one admonition, “Do not ever stop taking this because if you do you will fall into the worst depression you have ever known.” That was almost ten years ago, and the medication has been very effective. So it was the first thing I checked. Had I inadvertently missed a dose? Could that be the problem?
No, everything was OK in that area. Now what should I do?
Over the years, I have found that depression is better if embraced rather than fought. Every time I have tried to fight it, I have lost the battle. Now, with this new attack, what would be my battle plan?
First, as usual, I turned to physical exercise. I know that if I am moving things, they tend to sort themselves out. My problem today was that I could barely walk from the bedroom to the kitchen. Doing anything physical seemed out of the question, but I could make it part of the plan for the week. So I took out a yellow pad and made a heading with each day of the week.
Under Monday, I wrote, “Walk on the treadmill for one hour.” At the moment I wrote that the goal seemed ridiculous, but at least I had it on paper. I was making an important assumption, that there would be a tomorrow and that it would be a better day.
Second, I turned to music. It is hard to be depressed while listening to “Good Golly Miss Molly.” It is also hard to turn on the music when your world is black, and the silence seems friendly. So on the list for Tuesday, “Set the alarm to come on to Ray Charles.”
Around 4:20 PM, Holly returned from her hike. The minute she saw me, she knew something was wrong. “Sit down, I have something to share with you.”
It has been my experience that fighting depression is easier if you have someone to share your experience with. So I said to her, “I was hit with depression this morning. I am not going to be much fun for the next few days, but I want you to know it is not you. Please do not try to draw me out; that makes it worse. Just let me do my thing, and it will soon pass.”
With that on the table, I went to bed early, pulled the covers over my head, and moved deeper into the box. I slept for 14 hours.
Tuesday
9:00 AM
The day seemed blacker than the first. I was sinking deeper and deeper into the abyss. Intellectually, I knew what was happening. At 7:30, Ray Charles banged on the piano, and if I had a baseball bat nearby, it would have been the end of a good iPhone.
I looked at my list. Treadmill for one hour. If I could get out of bed, I thought I could do this. By 11:00 AM, I was finally dressed and on my way to my workout. In the parking lot, it took me about 30 minutes to get out of the car and walk inside.
On the treadmill, every step seemed a little lighter than the one before. Soon I was in my normal rhythm, and, ignoring signals from my mind to stop, I pressed on for the full hour. I could do this.
In the afternoon, I just wanted to go to sleep. Sleep was a pleasant friend waiting with open arms to embrace me. So I threw a pillow on the floor and slept for three hours.
That night we had a scheduled dinner with friends. How could I do this? I did not want to enjoy life. I wanted to sleep and sleep some more. Finally, I decided to approach the evening as an actor playing a part. Tonight, I would play the part of the extrovert. No one had to know it was an act. I could be the life of the party, but only if playing a part. And I was, and I did, and soon the night was over.
Wednesday
7:30 AM
By Wednesday morning, I was feeling more like a person. While I shaved, I found I was whistling a song. My wife has always told me she could tell when I was happy because I whistled all day long.
By noon, it was obvious I was winning the battle. By Wednesday evening, I was feeling pretty much back to normal. The lid had lifted from the box, and I could picture myself crawling out, bruised and shaken a bit, but not beaten.
Post Observation
In all of my experiences with depression, this was one of the shorter battles. There have been times when the episode would go on for weeks. So what made this one different?
I think it was different because this time I approached it as an outside observer. I watched the experience play out like a movie in my mind and tried to stay one step in front of the plot. By making a to-do list, I was showing I was in charge. By adding music and exercise, I was controlling the environment. The battle was on, but I was not giving up.
Perhaps something I have said will help someone else in their battle. By caring for and sharing with one another, we will find a solution to this problem. The first step for me seems to be to admit the struggle continues. Talk about it. Write about it. Get it out in the open and let the fresh air of a new day blow away the darkness.
If you or someone you know fights this same demon and has felt depressed to the point of suicidal thoughts, please refer them to the National Suicide Hotline. This number is active 24 hours a day, 365 days a year.
800-273-8255
When writing about depression, I am often asked about the medication I take. But I never answer that question. I am not a doctor and do not stay informed about the current protocols being prescribed. If you battle this disease, please visit your personal medical advisor for advice and counsel. And keep in mind, this battle can be won. Don’t ever give up.
that was a great post and I am glad you were able to dig out of that "hole" in a short period of time. Life is pretty good for us and most of the medical issues are pretty mild. I only wish I could be as physically active as you are. Thanks for keeping in touch.
Bo
Thanks for sharing. In my life, I've found grief can bring sadness, and sadness can bring depression. Sometimes it is a treadmill one can't get off of.