Without attempting to go into the science behind depression (I’m not a medical expert and the purpose of this blog is to speak purely as a lay person who has, on occasions, experienced depression), it manifests itself in a physical way to the extent that it can, on occasion, become debilitating. Unfortunately, it is one of those invisible illnesses like vertigo, chronic fatigue or even simply a bad back. But for me, the biggest disease in our species is the need to point a finger of judgement at people when they have no idea what other people are actually going through. It is a disease that creates barriers, causes unnecessary hurt and destroys lives. It causes prejudice, hatred and wars, and can also be a contributory factor to mental health issues – or, at least, does very little to help people with mental health issues. As I’m writing this, we are just about to enter complete lockdown due to the coronavirus. But the coronavirus will come and go. However, as long as humans infest the planet, judgementalism will never go away.
(I realise that I’m going off on a tangent and beginning to get a little carried away with things that I never even intended to write about, but I’ll continue with the flow. The beauty of writing is that you start with a blank sheet and you never know where it will take you. It’s all relevant, of course, but instead of staying on the main road, I’ve just metaphorically wandered off in to a field, and I’m choosing not to edit it out. Let’s just call it an “out-take”.)
Judgementalism, however, is relevant to many causes of depression, because being defined negatively by other people is often the root of anxiety.
My recent depression was caused simply by a very unpleasant turn of events in my life; things that happened completely beyond my control. My earliest memory of serious depression was when I was in my early thirties after a traumatic period. I remember sitting down alone to watch a film with a four-pack of beer beside me. I was half-way through the film before I was able build up the mental strength to reach for my first can to open it. I was barely able to function. The mental barrier manifested itself in a very physical way. Having spoken to many people about this, I know that I am not alone. This is why it’s SO important to be able to talk about it with people so that you understand that what you are going through is common, and is a normal human reaction to trauma. I don’t generally suffer with depression, it’s not a general mental condition that I have. For me it needs a trigger.
My brain haemorrhage has had no affect on me mentally. Mental health issues such as depression and PTSD are often associated with people who have suffered brain traumas. Apart from one or two minor physical issues, I have made a full recovery. I have often said that my brain haemorrhage is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love my story, I love telling my story and it has changed my life for the better. One thing that added to my recent depression was that a cruel lie was circulating about me, suggesting that I was suffering from PTSD as a result of my illness, and that my own judgements and decisions were impaired. Someone even tried to convince me of this. There were many people in my circle of acquaintances who had been led to believe that I had become mentally unhinged. It was seriously disturbing. Nothing could have been further from the truth, and given the circumstances that had been thrust upon me, those who know me were amazed at how well I coped. To try to convince someone that they have a fictitious mental health condition is a behaviour that is sometimes known as “gaslighting”. It is a behaviour that is often used as a smokescreen to conceal something dark and sinister. It is a behaviour that is sometimes used in controlling and coercive relationships.
Nonetheless, with no underlying mental health condition, I found myself hurled into an abyss that was always going to take a long time to climb out from. It was a foregone conclusion. “Baby steps,” I was told. “Just one tiny step at a time is all you can do, but you’ll get there.” I understood the concept, but the reality was too much to bear.
Without going into any depth regarding the events that led to my depression, I’d like to write about the vicious circle that leads to a dark, downward spiral. I’m doing this for two reasons. Firstly, to help those who have experienced it to realise that they are not alone in this and that it is common. Secondly, to help to educate (I mean that respectfully) those who don’t understand it and therefore can’t work out exactly why their partner, for example, is behaving the way they do. It’s about motivation (or lack of) and how difficult it can be to pick yourself up to carry out, what seems to be from the outside, simple tasks.
I remember having a phone call to make. It was a very simple phone call, but also a very important one. Mentally exhausted through severe depression, I tried telling myself to do it. Something stopped me. A wall – an invisible wall. No one could see it, but it was there and I could sense it bearing down upon me. I tried to make myself pick up the phone. I couldn’t. I can’t fully explain why (remember, I’m not an expert in mental health), but I couldn’t. But I knew what was going on. I’d experienced this before (remember the aforementioned four-pack of beer) and I was aware that it was going to be a struggle. This struggle would not be resolved until the phone call was made. I told my inner self this. It made no difference. Eventually, as the hours went by and the window of time available to make the call before its recipient had gone home had passed, my inner self said, “You’ll have to do it tomorrow now. There is no longer anything you can do.” By the time tomorrow came, my failure to make that call had made me more depressed, resulting in the wall becoming bigger and harder to climb. It felt like it was never going to be done. It took me about two weeks to make that phone call.
Imagine having ten important tasks to do in one day, yet you are struggling to do just one. The wall transforms into an overwhelmingly daunting and unsurpassable mountain. The downward spiral continues; the darkness increases its suffocating grip. You simply cannot cope.
A judgmental, finger-pointing person (you know, that disease that goes around the world that I mentioned earlier) would become exasperated and tell you to get a grip or pull yourself together. It doesn’t work like that. They can’t understand why, but that isn’t the point. We are dealing with how it is rather than how we would like it to be. It is an awful place to be, and every little stab and twist from the outside world just serves to reinforce the barriers and hurdles. On the inside, apart from having to face up to these tasks, I was also having to come to terms with devastating losses in my life. It is impossible for anyone to actually feel what you are going through, but being unable to feel or understand something does not negate its existence.
I was talking to a neighbour about this – someone I didn’t know especially well at the time. She seemed to me to be a very dynamic and proactive person, and one who I didn’t think would fully appreciate my predicament. As a complete surprise, she told me that she gets this all the time. “If you have ten tasks to do and you know you won’t be able to face them all, just focus on one,” she told me. “Then,” she said, “if you manage to do that, instead of beating yourself up for failing to do the other nine, congratulate yourself for doing that one thing. You don’t have to do anything else that day if you don’t want to, but you will at least have achieved one thing instead of nothing.” When you are in such a deep state of depression, you have to accept the losses and make the most of what you can actually do.
The latter approach helped me. The former did not. If you know someone who is dealing with depression, the “get a grip” approach is not helpful and is most likely to compound the issue.
It took me a whole two years of tiny baby steps, one at a time, day by day, to get to the end of the journey (if indeed these journeys ever end completely). I want people to understand that, if they experience this kind of debilitating lack of ability to function, it is a completely normal part of the process. I also want people to know that, even if they don’t understand the effects that depression can have on people, telling them to man-up, get a grip or pull yourself together will actually worsen the problem and create bigger obstacles for the sufferer. We are all in this life together. We are all victims of our own minds, bodies and circumstances. Some people are better at dealing with things than others. Some people are better at understanding than others. However, it’s never too late to learn.
MARK D PRITCHARD writes... 