Walking Through Mud
So, if you haven’t heard, we’re living through a weird time. There’s a global pandemic and people are dying. Those of us who aren’t working on the frontlines are staying home as much as possible and drastically restricting social and physical contact with others. Many of us have lost our jobs and, in turn, have lost some purpose or, at the very least, an income. To me, this sounds like a perfect breeding ground for depression.
I’ve been wanting to speak about my experience with mental illness for a while but have been unsure when would be the appropriate time and way to share. At the beginning of the pandemic, a friend expressed to me how her anxiety was spiking and I acknowledged that I could see signs of depression in people close to me. I’m aware of the “red flags” and specifically know my personal triggers, so I was able to enter into this time taking the proper preventive measures to avoid a slump. I was also armed and ready to combat depression if it did come knocking. My friend told me I was lucky I knew to do that. I responded by saying: I’m not sure battling a lifetime of depression makes me lucky. We laughed.
This conversation made me realize that maybe this is the time for me to share. Some people may be experiencing a form of depression for the first time since adjusting to COVID-19; others may recognize their uncomfortable feelings and not know how to process them in this weird time. Maybe my sharing will provide some insight. Maybe it will just make me feel better. Either way, I’m gonna do it. This post won’t have much to do with being a woman in the entertainment industry, but seeing as there’s not much happening in that realm right now, I’m giving myself a pass.
Depression has been with me for as far back as I can remember having feelings. This is not to say that I’ve been depressed for my whole life, I haven’t, but it has been there, like a birthmark perhaps. Sometimes very prominent and other times I forget it even exists, but always, a part of me. Like I mentioned in my previous post regarding my eating disorder, I couldn’t identify what I was going through as depression while I was going through it. I didn’t really “own” my depression until a few years ago. When I was younger, I would chalk it up to being sad, or moody, or too emotional, or lazy or “just having one of those days.” Sure, there were definitely times where I was experiencing one of those aforementioned emotions but other times, it was different.
I’ve often likened my depression to walking through mud. Suddenly everything I have to do is a little bit harder. There’s an added resistance that arrived from seemingly nowhere, and now I’m engulfed in it. I’m still able to get things done— but it is a slog. I went through bouts of this growing up. Sometimes I would fight against it, sometimes I would criticize myself for it, and sometimes I would just live in it. I will say that I discovered some really beautiful, sad music whilst the living-through-it bits (enter Damien Rice).
The older I got, the more I was open about how I was feeling (I’ve never been one to hide my emotions). Lots of remedies were offered to me: exercise more, do yoga, take vitamins, get more sleep, get less sleep, drink more water, write out a gratitude list everyday, eat better, don’t drink alcohol, track your cycle because it’s probably just PMS, etcetera. I experimented with all of these and they are valuable. I don’t think I’ve ever done some form of exercise and not felt that endorphin rush. However, nothing made the mud go away.
My deepest depression occurred between the later half of 2010 all the way to the beginning of 2013. It made a nice companion to my raging eating disorder (fun times). I felt very trapped and in a constant battle with myself. I remember a day when my only task was to go to the bank and I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I just stayed in my room, paralyzed. I recently read through some journal entries from this time and although it’s now obvious to me that I was I was capital D Depressed, at the time I had no idea. I just thought I was failing and I couldn’t understand why. I wish I could go back ten years and hug twenty year-old me and say, “It’s okay. You’re not broken. You’re not a failure. You’re just unbalanced, and there’s a pill for that.” Speaking of pills:
In 2011, I started seeing my first therapist and she suggested I consider going on anti-depressants. I grew up believing that our society is overly medicated and that turning to medication isn’t a great option. I know there is some validity to this way of thinking but I now also know that each person’s body and situation is unique and should be assessed objectively. However, nine years ago, I couldn’t see that. I just kept thinking of all those pharmaceutical commercials with their laundry list of side effects and I got scared. I didn’t get a prescription and I never went back to that therapist. I didn’t even respond to her email when she expressed concern about my absence. I effectively ghosted my therapist.
The depression persisted and the possibility of going on medication was always on my mind, but many people close to me advised against it. One of the biggest arguments presented to me was that the medication could cause weight gain, which was a pretty surefire way to make sure I wouldn’t get a prescription. I continued incorporating non-medication methods of combating depression into my life which, for the most part, were all beneficial but still not getting to the root of it.
Then one day, I listened to a podcast that broke open the opinion I’d clung to regarding anti-depressants. Comedian Chris Gethard was being interviewed by Marc Maron on his WTF podcast. Chris talked openly about his battle with depression and how finally going on medication in his early twenties changed everything. I’d never really heard anyone talk about anti-depressants in such a definitively positive light. Since hearing that interview, I’ve come across other accounts of people in the entertainment industry discussing the benefits of medication. Most notably, Kristen Bell, who’s very open about the history of depression in her family and how choosing to go on anti-depressants was the right move for her.
In the summer of 2018, I returned to Toronto after spending a few months in Vancouver, which hadn’t proved as fruitful as I’d hoped. I was feeling pretty low. In having some honest conversations with myself, I realized I had tried everything under the sun, for nearly ten years, to deal with my depression, except medication. I also realized that, as grateful as I am to have people who care about me and want to offer advice, only I know what it’s like to live with my depression and can make the decisions that are best for me. So first, I found myself a really good therapist (because I believe that the two go hand-in-hand) and then I went to my doctor and asked for a prescription.
Anti-depressants have changed my life. No, I’m not bouncing off the walls happy all the time. I still have low days—I’m still a proud, avid crier—but I no longer feel that unnecessary, mysterious, resistance in my day-to-day life. I’m not longer weighed down by constant self-doubt and overcome by a foggy, looming feeling of defeat. In short, the mud is gone.
When COVID-19 set out on it’s path of global domination in mid-March, I, like so many others, lost my job. All of a sudden, I had a completely open schedule, no foreseeable income and I couldn’t even hug my friends about it. I could see the ‘sads’ spotting an opening and knew I had to be mindful. I took out my mental list titled; Things I Never Have Time To Do, and thought, well, guess I can’t use that excuse anymore. I started playing piano again. Nothing crazy, thirty minutes a day at best, but it was something. I also picked up the guitar my boyfriend had bought me a year ago (that was doing a great job of collecting dust) and began plucking away. I won’t be able to accompany my great love Maggie Rogers anytime soon but callouses are forming on my left finger tips and it feels pretty cool to be learning something new. Most significantly, I’m singing again. I’ve been taking weekly lessons with my voice teacher over Skype and it’s making my heart soar. Music used to be a huge part of my life and took a back seat when I decided to pursue acting. Having this time to put towards it again, not to meet any grandiose goal, but simply to keep me busy and happy, has made all the difference in keeping my spirits up.
It hasn’t been all rainbows and melodies. There have absolutely been days where I haven’t done any of the things on my “list”, instead I’ve spent way too much time on the internet or binged something on Netflix. I’ve also been sleeping a lot, but it’s felt like my body has needed it and I’m okay with that.
This is an unprecedented time and we’re all navigating these uncharted waters together. I urge anyone wrestling with anxiety and/or depression to be open, honest, and curious. There is no shame in mental illness. The more we talk and share, the smaller the stigma becomes. Putting my experiences down on virtual paper has proven very therapeutic for me and I hope reading about them can provide some therapy for you, if that’s what you’re searching for. If you feel like chatting, please don’t hesitate to reach out, lord knows I have the time. You’ll find me weathering this unusual storm, doing my best, to stay out of the mud.
Art courtesy of Emily Dickinson. Instagram: @emilydickinsonart
