Daily Gratitude List 10.14.22

When Depression Comes to Visit

I’m grateful for a gorgeous morning and a pretty busy day ahead. I’m grateful for people who say nice things. I’m grateful the flowers in the den have lasted this long. I’m grateful for noticing the things in front of me. I’m grateful it’s Friday. I’m grateful to be sober today.

I’m not going to say “Happy Friday,” or anything like that. I’m going to show you respect and let you arrive at your own conclusions. However, I will suggest that you should read this because it’s great:

Growing Pains: Sober Girls Edition :)

I’ve been feeling pretty down lately, as I frequently mention here, and I know some of the things that are at work—one of which is my own cycle of depression. My depression ebbs and flows throughout the year and I know that some months (February!) are just always brutal for me. I recognize the signs now—increased sleeplessness, loss of appetite, lack of interest in things. The tell-tale symptom is when I simply can’t come up with a single thing I want to do—there is literally nothing in the world that interests me enough to leave the sofa, enough to even put my glasses on.¹ I don’t even really want to listen to music. That’s how it feels when my depression comes for a visit.

Picture of actual black hole to be over-dramatic.

In days gone by, those visits generated storms and crises and lots of drinking. I’m not sure of the actual neural mechanics, but as I lost interest in everything that used to keep me gazing outward, my devious, unrelenting brain would helpfully step in and fill the void.² My brain would concoct all manner of stories and theories about why I hated everything about my life and about me, why things had gone so far off course. Of course, it was the fault of a large number of people, some of whom had been acting in concert for years. None of those people were willing to own up to their perfidy, there seemed to be no possibility of them changing their evil ways. That left me with drinking.

These days, I try to approach the visits differently. Once I realize who’s quietly moved in, I might characterize my approach as “Shut-Up and Sit Down.” In a nice way, of course. The “shut-up” part applies to my devious, unrelenting brain.³ I just needed to have it stop making up stories to explain the very real symptoms I was feeling. My brain can concoct a nearly infinite number of compelling stories that convincingly explain what I’m thinking and feeling—the problem is that none of those stories were actually true and all of those stories ended the same way, led to the same conclusion: I needed to drink.

The reason I feel shitty and don’t want to leave the couch and have this idea that life is just bleak and dark and nothing really matters is because something goes haywire in my brain periodically. It’s not because the end is near or it’s finally time to pay for all my sins, that it’s time for that reckoning I feared for my whole life. No, it’s just that my brain gets a little messed up from time to time and I kind of have to ride it out. And that’s what I’ve been doing. Keeping a low profile, not arguing too much with myself about the need to be out more, making sure I get some exercise, not asking questions about why I am this this way and not counting up the Miniature Reese’s wrappers that litter the house. I let myself sit down and figure that when I’m ready, I’ll get up again and we’ll get back to our regular programming.

And that’s just what happened. This morning everything seems fine again. The air on the balcony is soft and fresh after the rain in the night. There are little drops of water on the leaves of the Strawberry plants.⁴ I’ve got a pretty busy day ahead—lots of plans. I realized I had been meaning to listen to some Schumann this morning. I’ll work on a kinder, gentler title for my method and I’ll slide in that holding on to a little piece of faith that things will get better is pretty helpful, too. The beautiful thing is that every time this stuff works, even just a little, the conviction that I’m on the right path grows and my faith deepens and gets a little sturdier. Fortunately, someone else already wrote about this in a way I can’t match:

Perhaps there is a better way—we think so. For we are on a different basis; the basis of trusting and relying upon God. We trust infinite God rather than our finite selves. We are in the world to play the role He assigns. Just to the extent that we as we think He would have us, and humbly rely on Him, does enable us to match calamity with serenity.

Big Book, p. 68.

That’s just it—these days when my brain is trying to yell “Calamity!,” there is the silence of serenity in response and the faith that things will be better soon, maybe even by Friday.

Thanks for Letting Me Share

1. Fortunately, navigating to “Your Orders” on Uber Eats does not require my glasses.

2. I’m not sure when the grudge started, but I feel my brain has been overtly trying to kill me for quite a while.

3. I was not allowed to say “shut-up” to other people and I still think that’s a good rule to follow. You may be surprised to learn that shortly after the announcement of the “Shut-Up” rule, I was also barred from yelling “Silence!” at my younger brother.

4. Don’t worry, they’re moving indoors shortly.