Depression, Anxiety, and Impossible Tasks

Hi there, it’s me. I know it’s been awhile, over four months, in fact.

I thought about apologizing, but I think I’ve done that before after my other long blogging hiatuses. So I’m not going to apologize, because I’ve been dealing with some important shit.

For those of you who are new or irregular readers or just haven’t picked up on the hints in many of my previous posts, I have anxiety. I’ve probably had it since I was in middle school. It’s only in the last couple of years that I’ve actually allowed myself to admit that I have it though and even then – because anxiety – I would constantly second guess myself. Did I really have anxiety or did I just want to believe that I had anxiety because having something definably wrong with me would allow me to shift the blame for my failings onto this thing – anxiety – beyond my control?

Does that make sense? Not sure.

Anxiety

Last fall, my acupuncturist pointed out to me that I somaticize my emotions. I think most people do this to some extent. Every emotion has a somatic symptom in addition to a mental one. But I wasn’t connecting the somatic symptom to any emotion, I just thought I had a stomach ache when I was anxious or chest pains when I was sad. But after my acupuncturist pointed out the pattern, I started noticing it and then I started actually identifying and addressing my emotions: processing them for the first time in years.

And that’s when my ability to compartmentalize completely broke down. You see, for years, I’d been able to completely ignore whatever was going on in my body, shunt it aside to focus solely on school work or work work or writing or whatever it was that needed to be focused on. Once I started addressing what was going on in my body, I couldn’t ignore it anymore. And then I stopped being able to focus on too many things.

The months before I left my job to go to Australia were some of the most excruciating from a focus point-of-view. I couldn’t ignore my excitement long enough to focus on my work. My inability to focus on work made me incredibly anxious. I started getting anxiety attacks.

Only this wasn’t the first time I knew that they were anxiety attacks. I’d had them before when I was still in college, when I left college, whenever the anniversary of my dropping out of college rolled around (anyone else noticing a pattern here?). Because I was also very ill when I left college, my doctors assumed that the shortness of breath and the accelerated heart rate and dizziness were related to my illness. So they ran blood tests, took chest x-rays, and found nothing abnormal.

I thought, that maybe once I was in Australia, the attacks would go away, that my anxiety would become more manageable, and for the most part, it was. Until I had a full blown attack after finishing my taxes.

That’s when I decided that I needed to talk to my doctor. So, when I got back from Australia, I contacted my doctor to talk about treatment for anxiety and ADD (another ongoing issue). I’m now medicated, which I have conflicting feelings about – but that’s a different post. I’ve been doing better on the anxiety front, but not so much on the depression front.

Depression

My doctor likes to say that depression and anxiety are two sides of the same coin. I haven’t talked to him much about my struggles with depression, because I never thought it was that big a problem. I’ve always been pretty high functioning during my depressed periods. I’ve never had suicidal ideation or other harmful urges when depressed. Everything’s just dull and kind of pointless for a while, but I’ve always been able to keep my head down until I got through it. Sometimes, I wouldn’t even realize I was depressed until after the period was over.

But then I started paying attention to those somaticized emotions of mine.

Then I stopped being able to compartmentalize.

Then I became all too aware of my depression.

I was fine for a while. Last fall, I was looking forward to going to Australia and seeing my Person, and even though I was an anxious wreck, I wasn’t depressed. While I was in Australia, I missed the Seasonal Affective Disorder bullshit I usually get during the winter because I skipped the northern hemisphere winter in favor of the southern hemisphere summer. Directly after leaving Australia, I was so focused on getting through Futurescapes Writers’ Workshop that the depression brought on by leaving my Person behind in Australia for the next several months didn’t have a chance to set in.

After Futurescapes, I was prepared for the depression. I always have a bit of a slump after a retreat or a workshop and that’s pretty typical for a lot of writers. It usually lasts a couple weeks, sometimes as long as a month. Creativity is hard. Reading is hard. Doing anything writing related is hard. But then it’s over and I can get on with things.

I expected this. So I let myself step away from writing for a bit to focus on reintegrating into the band after my time away. And then I had a CD release party to plan and a Kickstarter campaign to run and then my Person came out to the states for a month and then we went to a good friend’s wedding and then my Person left and-.

Hello, Depression my old friend.

Impossible Tasks

I recently read an article that referenced a twitter thread by @mollybackes about one of the less talked about elements of depression: impossible tasks.

They’re usually little things like going to the post office or registering your car. Things that are so easy to do when you’re not depressed. But then you are depressed and it’s like the post office has developed an impenetrable force field.

My impossible task right now? Writing.

It’d be an understatement to say that this sucks. Writing is such an integral part of my identity. It’s something I enjoy almost as much as I enjoy poodles and watching dumb action movies. So, yeah, it sucks not to be able to do one of the things that I use to define myself. It’s like I’m not myself, which, well, sucks.

I’ve been able to edit. I’ve even been able to write and send query letters (fingers crossed on that front). But I can’t write. I have ideas. I have a short story that’s so close to being done. And a novel that probably only needs another fifteen days of solid writing to finish the draft I’m working on. I’m not blocked. I’m not unhappy with the things I’m writing, I’m not putting too much pressure on myself (one of my primary sources of writer’s block), I just can’t write.

And it’s not just my stories that I can’t write. I can’t write in my diary. I can’t write band newsletters. I can’t write Facebook posts or tweets. I can’t write blogs. I can barely write grocery lists.

At this point, you’re probably thinking, but Emily, this is a blog. You’ve just written it. You’re cured.

Well, you’re not wrong. It just took me two weeks to write it over and over in my head before today I could finally sit down and write.

I think part of that is because I’m coming out of my depression. I’m able to do things I like for the sake of doing them and not out of obligation. Little things like painting my nails because I want to or listening to music because I want to or watching movies all the way through without losing interest in them even though I’ve been wanting to watch them forever.

Hopefully, in the next couple of weeks I’ll be able to get back into the swing of writing and reading (my other impossible task this time around). Hopefully, this bout of depression is nearing its conclusion, but I don’t think I can afford to rely on hope anymore. Not if I’m going to commit to being a full-time writer and musician.

Reaching Out

I’ve got a checkup coming up soon and I’ve decided that I’m going to tell my doctor about my depression and see if there’s anything I can do to make it more manageable, because I don’t want to go another four months (or longer) without being able to write or read and find joy in the process of both.

I’ve also got a neuro-psych exam scheduled in a couple months and I’m going to see if I can bump that up sooner. Because if I don’t start being more proactive about my mental health – to be honest, I don’t want to think about that what if scenario. I want to use the time I have right now to do everything in my power to live a healthy life and that means reaching out to get help, because I don’t live in a vacuum and right now, for the first time in my life I’m actually able to reach out.

Thanks so much for reading.

P.S. I’m not going to do an in-depth edit on this, because if I do that, I don’t think I’ll be able to post it and I need to post it, because one of the things I’ve found so helpful in navigating my own journey through Anxiety and Depression is reading about other people’s experiences and I hope that this will maybe be helpful to someone. Please, comment about your own mental health journies if you feel comfortable doing so. I’d love to read them.