Feel the Depression, Do It Anyway
Finding the Right Words Day 1: START
Every room in the house is a mess.
I've been trying to clean my home for 5 months. Each time I start to get organized, something goes wrong. Between the stress of leaving my job, moving back home, losing a friend, losing two aunts, getting sick, losing my home (temporarily), family drama, boy drama, getting sick again and then one more time just for fun… it’s been a pretty shitty spring and summer, to put it lightly.
My mind is a lot like my house right now. Everything is in disarray and I don't know where to start putting it back together. Should I move my body and go back to the gym? Well, I’ll need gym clothes for that so I should do laundry. If I have time to clear out your closet, I should be spending it looking for a job. I should feel bad about being unemployed. I should feel bad about letting my feeling bad cause me to distance myself from my friends. I should feel bad about gaining weight while self isolating. I should go to the gym. Well, if I’m going to do that, I need to do laundry…
On and on the cycle of thought goes and nothing gets done and it seems simpler to just crawl back into the bed I’ve been metaphorically chained to and let the rhetorical and literal mess continue to pile up and drown me.
…That’s depression for ya.
If my depression has taught me anything, it's how to start over.
Depression is so fucking dumb.
Like, it is the dumbest, most stupidest thing in the entire world. And I can say that as a card carrying, prescription popping, DSM-diagnosed person with moderate to severe clinical depression (and a sprinkle of anxiety and PTSD thrown in for a little razzle dazzle).
It’s more than just feeling “sad.” It’s feeling… incapable. Of anything. Depression has a powerful yet subtle little voice that tells you “don’t” repeatedly. Don’t get up. Don’t bother. Don’t move. Don’t try. Don’t annoy anyone with your emotions. Don’t do anything. And in some severe cases, don’t live.
Even things that will make you happy or feel good or accomplished, depression whispers, “Now why would you do a thing like that? Wouldn’t it be better if you just… didn’t?” What if you didn’t answer the phone when your mom is calling even though you miss her? What if you didn’t journal even though you and your therapist know it will help you feel better? What if you didn’t go to dance class and see all your friends? What if you didn’t reply to those emails of employment opportunities? What if you just don’t bother??!
Depression tells you you don’t deserve anything. That people and circumstances–and by proxy, you!--will be better off if you just didn’t get in the way. So, you do get out of the way. You bury yourself under a cloud of sadness and despair. And when that fog finally lifts, you can see all the life you neglected and all the people who've been waiting for you on the other side. And sometimes, that's enough to make you feel so ashamed and wanna crawl back under the comfort of the covers and let the fog take over again.
But each time you emerge, you gotta just let yourself start over. If my depression has taught me anything, it's how to start over.
Starting again is easier than starting from scratch. Because you already know what it takes and what it feels like to be on the other side.
Depression is dumb. It’s a liar. It’s dangerous. It’s also a cycle of fresh starts. Starting over again and again as many times as you need to, as many times as it takes. Go back to the gym after a year of being too depressed to move. Talk to your friends again. Get back in therapy. Whether you think you fucked up, or gone too far or too long without doing what you want to do, you can always start again. And you might find that starting again is easier than starting from scratch. Because you already know what it takes and what it feels like to be on the other side.
Which brings me to the today of things. I’m starting over (pause for applause) by doing something that I love again: writing. For 30 days straight. Oh, and I’m sharing it (😬) in this journaling series and newsletter I’m calling, Finding the Right Words.
Will this series be mostly about my mental health? Probably. I might react to some pop culture moments. Might throw some book or TV reviews in there somewhere (and will probably still make that about my mental health somehow). I certainly don’t want to just be on some sad, depressing shit for 30 days.
In an attempt to make this easier for myself, I’ll be sharing a few things I’ve already written and journaled but never published with some added commentary. But I’ll also be writing some brand new essays and thoughts. Maybe even a little poetry? Who knows? Who cares?!
Some entries will be long. Some entries will be short. Some things will get the people going, some things might just be for me. I might even fuck this up and miss a day. I hope not. This is a challenge to push me to publish and to START doing things I love again.
I don’t think it will be easy. Change rarely is, unfortunately. And it’s made even harder by my depression and anxiety screaming “DON’T” so loudly that I fear only the shelter of my comforter will be able to drown it out. People on the internet say “do it scared” but I’m don’t know if I’m afraid, exactly. I’m just mentally unwell, haha! I just gotta feel the depression and do it anyway.
Oh and I’ma do my laundry :)
This entry was written under the prompt “START,” Day 1 of the Finding the Right Words 30-Day Journaling Challenge. Follow along, see the graphic above and write about whatever comes to mind with the corresponding prompt. Share with me using the tag #FTRW or email me at joliedoggett [at] substack.com.
There’s no wrong way to journal. You just gotta find the right words. Happy Writing!