Some of you have noticed that I’ve been a bit quiet lately — for about a month now — and it deserves some explanation. May as well just be blunt: I’ve been very heavily depressed, not socialising, shying away from much of life. It is difficult to write here, but there it is.
This is the main reason I’m not at LFCS/DAM4 this week. Travel and high-intensity people stuff is just not going to happen right now. So, I’m sorry to those of you I’m missing in SFO, and to others who have wanted or needed my attention in recent weeks. As always, Pia gets the worst of it, but is wonderful regardless. Thank you. 🙂
The infuriating thing about depression is that it’s a despair without definition. If I could put my finger on it, I could solve it. Sure, I can point you to a confluence of things that were likely to set it off, but when it hits, it doesn’t really work that way.
Most people I’ve met who have depression use a physical or anthropomorphic metaphor as a way to understand or express it — a great example is Winston Churchill’s Black Dog. I tend towards the physical, seeing it in much the same way as my arthritis: Every now and then, my body stops working properly, and I can’t walk; every now and then, my brain stops working properly, and I can’t… do or feel much of anything at all.
People often ask whether I’d turn it off, if a relevant switch were provided. I don’t think so. Down here, my drive and motivation might be dangerously close to zero, but on balance, I could never trade the ferocity or infectiousness of up there. It’s too central to the culture of my creativity, as odd as that may sound.
The only way I’ve found to drag myself up is to choose something to do and kick the crap out of it until a sense of achievement sets in. I found a great therapy task a few days ago… but I’ll leave that story to a happier post!
If you don’t get it, but want to grok more, Beyond Blue has some good stuff to read.
Finally: Despite everything, I’m OK. I’ve been here before, and made it out fine. Back soon. 🙂