I was going to write a long “state of the Mur” address, talking about 2011 and where I want to go in 2012. But I didn’t for two reasons.
- I can’t talk about it yet. (DUN DUN DUN)
- I decided to stay away from all but the most important online things over the holidays, so there was no blogging or podcasting.
So while I wait to make the update post, and wait to write the “looking ahead” post, I want to say hi, happy new year, and mention a little bit about depression.
Don’t worry about me- I’m currently just fine. But I read something from the very popular blogger, The Bloggess, today, that made me want to talk about it.
I have depression. I’ve been officially diagnosed since 2004 (and 3 weeks after I got treatment is when I started podcasting, so you can call bull-paddies on anyone who says depression meds kill creativity.) I know I still have it, because if I fall off my meds schedule, as what often happens when I travel, about a week later I can feel the lethargy and the depression weighing on me.
But I’m not here to talk about mine. I want to encourage you to talk about yours. **
When cancer sufferers fight, recover, and go into remission we laud their bravery. We call them survivors. Because they are.
When depression sufferers fight, recover and go into remission we seldom even know, simply because so many suffer in the dark…ashamed to admit something they see as a personal weakness…afraid that people will worry, and more afraid that they won’t.
I’ve had people tell me that since I talk about my depression so openly here, that they had the courage to seek help for their own. So I wanted to reiterate: You’re not alone. You are not alone. You are not alone.
You are not alone.
Many, many of us suffer from this. There’s no shame in getting help. Talk to a counselor. If you don’t have a counselor, talk to your doctor. If you have faith, talk to your religious leader.
Yes, the stigma of “just get over it” or “cheer up!” still exists, and there are people out there who see depression medication as an “easy out” or a crutch. I know some people look down on me for being on meds for going on 8 years now. I weigh their opinion of me vs. having the energy to get out of bed, be a writer, podcaster, editor, wife, and mother, and give those judging me a very cheerful, very rude gesture.
Therapy may be all you need. If you try medication, you may not find the right medication on the first try (I got lucky, as I understand it.) You may find the right meds, but have to wait 3-4 weeks for them to take effect (those are very long weeks, I know.) But if you go these routes, you will be moving in the right direction instead of sitting on your house wondering why a worthless lump like you thinks you should be a writer, or why you should deserve the air you breathe.
This isn’t really about writing. But from another point of view, it so, so, is. Creative types frequently suffer from depression, or anxiety – and many outsiders think that’s OK. We’re viewed as eccentric, like we’re a package deal. “Oh, she’s a writer. That means creative, neurotic, alcoholic, depressed, and likely suicidal. But can she write?”
So in 2012, take stock. If you’ve been wondering if it’s time to get help, it is. If you’ve been wondering if there’s someone out there who gives a damn, there is. If you’ve been wondering if medication will curb your creative drive, I want you to look at your wordcounts during your most down times and tell me how amazingly high that number is – and tell you that I have wanted to be a writer since I was 12, but I didn’t start really getting into serious creating until I was 31 and on depression medication.
Talk to someone. Get help. You know how, on airplanes, when they say secure your own oxygen mask before you help someone else? You have to breathe before you can help someone else breathe. If you’re a caregiver, you have to breathe before you can help your child/parent/spouse breathe. If you’re a creator, you have to breathe before you can make your work live. Don’t be selfless. Don’t be a martyr.
Breathe.
** Not talk about it here, I mean talk to a professional. I mean, you CAN talk about it here, I’m just not saying, “Talk about it in the comments, it’ll be ALL BETTER!” Uh. You know what I mean. Stop reading this. Go on to the next paragraph.
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16 Responses to Honesty and depression
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I read the Bloggess’ post this morning, and now yours. Speaking as both a survivor of suicidal depression (hospitalized for it in 1980, in counseling for many years thereafter) and cancer, what you said, in spades. Life can and does go on. Depression and cancer are both liars and thieves, and they will steal everything they can from your life. Jenny was right about cancer, that it is celebrated in a way depression is not, but in either case, the people that care about you do care. Let them.
Jay, thanks so much for commenting.
Thanks for the fantastic post. Almost everyone in my family has suffered from depression–or an even more serious mental disorder. All of them have sought treatment, and led better, more joyful, more creative, more productive lives thereafter.
Mur, thank you. I have been wondering if it’s time to get help. I think you’re right. It is.
I was diagnosed in 2004 and have been treating it ever since. I started my first novel soon after I took my first dose of Prozac. Since then, I’ve completed four novels and I’m dealing with my problems better. Mur is absolutely right — there’s no shame in getting help. Do it for you and for those who love you.
I can’t afford medication, but I’ve found writing helps. When I feel helpless in my world, I take it out on my characters and I gain a sense of control.
*hugs*
I have always been resistant to good advice. It always takes catastrophes to move me from one treatment stage to another. It wasn’t until less than a year ago that I actually gave in to my psychiatrist and agreed that I was bipolar.
The medication I got after that—we had to try various things, which always sucks, but it’s worth it when you come across the miraculous little pills that seem to work.
I have talk therapy as well, and my psychologist has helped me move past some of the neurotic behaviors I adopted in attempts to cope with my disorder for so many years. Granted, for many of those years treatment or even diagnosis wasn’t an option due to being poor, but still.
The disorder isn’t my fault. But it is totally my fault for not seeking treatment when I could, until destroying friendships, a good career, etc. It’s only been since the green pills when I was able to write fiction again, and that is unlikely to be a coincidence. Yet society is so against treatment often, and attaches such stigma to it, that I can’t entirely blame myself (or others) for choosing against treatment for so long.
That stigma is what keeps work a scary place for me, despite ADA. I’m so fortunate to have understanding friends these days. (Others have claimed they don’t want to “enable” my behavior and… well, I cried for a while about that.)
It’s no wonder I escape into writing so much these days.
AJ- I’ve been reading about your fiction writing for the past few months and so thrilled you’re doing so much. I’m glad you’re getting treatment, and [REDACTED] those who judge you for it.
I think I may be either bipolar or have depression, though I think that I have the latter. The unfortunate thing is that I’m living in a country, where the attitude towards mental conditions and professional help in the face of psychology and therapy is more negative than positive. So active treatment is way more expensive and ‘being out’ as a person going to therapy is as bad as being a homosexual in my country [trust me, I know of the latter as well]. Being discriminated on two whole bases is not at all desirable and in this unstable economy, you have to keep all under the lid, otherwise you might find yourself on the street.
BUT I have spoken to a psychologist and I will have more talk therapy in the future. The work that I do helps me most of the time, creative therapy I guess is what’s it called.
Ditto here. When I was in the grips of the big-D (as different than little-d, which everybody feels at times) I didn’t know I was depressed. Things didn’t suck. They just didn’t feel at all. It was only listening to a talk show that was discussing depression when they described how big-D presents differently in males. And then they went down a check list and I mentally ticked them all off.
And to second the comment, I only finished my first novel after I went on meds (Wellbutrin). That was also the time when I got serious about writing (because I finally could get serious). Meds don’t steal from you, they remove barriers.
The trouble with depression is that it’s an invisible disease. If our heads were wrapped in bandages those who don’t understand it might be less willing to say “just get up and do things and get over it.” Who knows, we might even start a style fashion
Thanks for openly talking about depression. I’ve been on depression meds for a number of years. Fortunately I have fantastic family support and understanding. And despite the depression, you learn to muddle on.
Besides, wasn’t it James Hillman who maintained that depression was the natural reaction to the world we live in?
Gene
Been there, done that, it sucked.
But “stigma”? Yes, there is one … but some people get pneumonia. Is that their fault? Depression happens just as randomly. It’s bad luck, that’s all. Better luck to all here trying to get well.
Mur, I just wanted to say, you’re the reason I decided to finally let go of my pride and try out some antidepressants about a year and a half ago, when you mentioned in ISBW that your creative output actually increased with medication. At the time I was extremely socially anxious and it was only once I was on the meds that I realized how distorted my thinking had previously been, and how nightmarish my life was becoming.
I’m not on the meds anymore– they worked really well, but the side effects got to be too disruptive– however they did help me get out of the ditch I’d fallen into. I think I would’ve stayed in that ditch forever if I hadn’t gotten help.
Medication doesn’t have to be forever. You learn new methods of dealing with stress. Maybe you find a therapist who gives you a healthier framework with which to view your feelings. You learn to stop blaming yourself. But whether you decide to live with antidepressants or without them, there shouldn’t be any shame. You do what you have to do to live your life.
So thanks. People need to speak up about these things.
I’ve had depression since I was fourteen, but it took me 12 years to get treatment. I’m happier (and more productive) now than I ever could have been when depression was wrecking my brain. It’s odd, but depression is almost like its own entity, in that it seems like it tries to protect itself. I’ve never met any group of people less willing to seek help than the truly depressed. I had to reach absolute rock bottom to seek help…but, it does get better. It’s almost unimportant what you do to seek help, as long as you do seek qualified, professional help. If something doesn’t work, try something else.
It sounds schmaltzy but ISBW has been a huge help in getting my mind right for writing and dealing with the brain states writing can stir up. It’s also been good to know I’m not the only person dealing with this.
Anyone out there struggling at the moment, please ask someone you trust for help. Too many people die because they’re too proud or too scared to ask for assistance.
Depression can be fought, it can be beaten, you just have to keep fighting, and you don’t have to fight alone.
Something frequently overlooked in depression treatment are biological causes. I had dysthymia (chronic depression) for decades (antidepressants ineffective, or briefly effective) until I started taking 5000 IU of vitamin D per day. My gums stopped bleeding after brushing, and the depression slowly left after a month or so. A simple blood test would have caught this, but was never tried by any of the dozens of doctors I saw. It was up to me to find it.
Entertaining video on D deficiency: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cq1t9WqOD-0
Diagnosed with a serious case of clinical depression following the flatlining of a relationship, in 1994. In early 1995, after starting treatment and meds, I formed Subterranean Press.
Bill
SubPress