Depression

I can’t take naps during the day anymore, even when I’m exhausted. B and I don’t have kids, animals or a big house to care for, but somehow there are always chores to be done, to-do lists to tend to, projects to work on. I catch up on phone calls, schedule meetings or send emails while I walk. I read on the bus and pray in the shower. I don’t have a stressful life, I just tend to shy away from idle time. It’s been that way for years, ever since I learned that as long as I kept moving, it wouldn’t come back as often. I’m 29 and I’m consistently happier than I’ve ever been in my entire life. The other day, however, uncomfortable with being forced to sit idle in a superfluously long meeting, I realized that as far as I’ve come I’m still afraid it will come back if I hold still for too long.

I used to get pretty bad bouts of depression, especially in high school and college. There were days, sometimes even weeks when I had little desire to put effort into dressing myself, going anywhere, doing anything at all. I’ve emerged from the major hormonal hurricanes of my teens, evolved as a person, and I’m fortunate enough not to have to contend with the kind of depression I battled when I was younger. That’s not to say that depression is entirely a thing of the past for me. There are still days once in a while when it threatens to alter my perspective, change my experience. But I’ve worked very hard to learn how to keep it at bay and stay in a good place. It’s been a long and bumpy road towards balance and overall happiness, but well-being is like anything else worth having- you have to work to get it and fight to keep it.

I always wanted to be happy but for a long time I didn’t quite know how to be happy. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t have a little bit of sadness settled in the pit of my stomach, an element of dread I never really could put my finger on. I did well to bury it with a million friends and faces and material things and parties and books and music and constant movement and stimulation. But every few months, there would be a few days or a week when I got tired of piling one thing on top of another on top of the sadness and I’d collapse. I’d stay home from school or skip class, say I was sick and sleep for longer than I now consider humanly possible. I would call out of work and eat and sleep all day, close the curtains and watch shameful amounts of Lifetime or E! I didn’t ever ball my eyes out or freak out or have meltdowns in a corner somewhere. It was never that dramatic. Certainly nothing worthy of Lifetime or E!. I was just there, taking up space. Void of the energy to think or move or live. Void of any desire to be myself. God it was bad. I’ve forgotten how bad it was.

I realize now, as I write this, that the anticipation of one of these bouts of depression was almost worse than the “shut down” itself. It often came with little warning; as I got older I could feel it sneaking up behind me but I still couldn’t figure out how to stop it from swallowing me up for a few days. I stood atop One Market Plaza once and watched the fog roll in through the Golden Gate. I had never seen it like that before – with the advantage of an unobstructed panoramic perspective. It sidles in one finger at a time, painfully slow to a focused eye. As soon as you turn around for a moment though, the whole city is cloaked in damp, dank, grey.

At a certain point I got sick of waiting for the depression to come, I got sick of fighting it off with constant movement and hyper -vigilance, I got sick of feeling it. I knew I needed a little help finding my way, but after countless brief bouts of therapy with detached therapists, I didn’t want to lie on a couch and talk about why I hated my body or where my fears came from anymore. I wanted to talk about how to change. I stuck with therapy and bounced around until I found someone that I knew could give me the tools to fight depression and break out of the cycle of torturing my body. That doctor told me that peace and happiness were inside me, always had been and always will be, and that I just needed to learn to stop piling so much sh*t over it. I liked that idea. It gave me hope.

Over the past few years, I’ve learned a lot about which habits, indulgences and behaviors help my overall well-being and which ones inhibit it. I’ve changed my diet; I’ve identified forms of exercise that help keep me in a positive state of mind. I try to get enough sleep and take care of myself inside and out. I remind myself every day that I deserve to be happy and that I get to choose how my life plays out. But I’m still learning to enjoy and appreciate quiet, still moments. Yoga has helped tremendously with that, as has mindful awareness and meditation. Those are things I laughed at when first suggested. They seemed impossibly simple remedies for my overly complicated mind. But now I know that they are invaluable stepping stones on my road to enjoying a well-deserved afternoon nap or a perfectly trashy Lifetime movie in the daylight– without feeling like I’m opening the door for depression and inviting it in.

Whirlwind

The past few months have been a whirlwind of wonderful family trips, adventures with friends, major milestones and small triumphs. This is the first chance I’ve had in months to sit in my favorite writing spot; the room empty, quiet, clean; my mind relaxed enough to enjoy the sun streaming through the Camilla bushes and ferns outside our windows; no laundry pile full of chlorine soaked swimsuits or campfire-scented muddied pants; nothing to pack for, prepare for or anxiously anticipate within the next 7 days.

Friends old and new, weddings, romance and familial bonds have brought us to Austin, TX; the Mayan Riviera; Hilton Head, SC; Flathead Lake, MT; Farmington, CT; Yosemite National Park; Laguna Beach, CA. We’ll see Cape Cod, MA; Wichita, KS; Scottsdale, AZ before September is through. We have a hard time saying no to each other. We have an even harder time saying no to the family and friends we hold so dear to our hearts. Being able to say “yes, we’ll come” is perhaps the greatest, most treasured luxury we have in our life as a couple.

It’s all been so wonderful, but so fast. Sometimes you have to write things down for them to feel real.

I went to Yosemite National Park and climbed the Mist Trail for the 3rd time with B. It’s a difficult hike, a 3 hour StairMaster up the side of two waterfalls on slippery rocks, but it’s rewarding and breathtaking every step of the way. I know now that the first time I did it, I was still a girl. I felt out of my element, embarrassed by how I faced the challenge in front of the man I loved, scared and shaking and fearing the way down every step of the way up. The second time I did it I managed to bring my eyes up from my toes on the rocks long enough to appreciate what I was doing, where I was, who I was with. I was still hesitant at moments, but not a fearful young girl anymore. The third time I did the hike, I felt strong and happy and peaceful as I went up the sides of those waterfalls. Feeling that way in that place made me realize how far I’ve come, how much I’ve grown up, how much B and I have grown together. He proposed at the top of the second waterfall with one of our most cherished places in the world at our feet. The third time I hiked the Mist Trail, I came down engaged to the man that has helped me find that strength and happiness and peace in my heart.

My best friend in the entire world, the one I moved to San Francisco with, moved home to Boston. We’ve lived either down the hall, in the same room or a few bus stops away since we were 18. Her kind heart and complete lack of judgment may never be matched in another female friend. She’s gone for good and I’m staying forever and I barely got to give her a proper goodbye.

B turned 40 just a few weeks ago. His youthful enthusiasm and passion for adventure, music, food and everything good in life make him ageless. He wants to be happy and he wants everyone around him to be happy. In the time that I’ve known him, he has learned how to make those things happen, even as the people and world around him change rapidly. He has untied his own hands and that makes him a wise old man ;)

By the end of July, two of my dearest childhood friends will have married within 6 weeks of each other. A third has moved to Australia to be with her Prince Charming. Coming together again over the past few months at a bachelorette and wedding we laughed like we we’re 15 again. We felt as close as we did, perhaps closer, than when we were 15 and together every day. But we’re women now and we’re all starting our own lives in different places around the world.

My dearest friend in San Francisco, a woman with whom I have a very special friendship, left 3 weeks ago for a trip around the world for a year. I am so happy for her, but I miss her. She has inspired me to be tougher. She challenges me to open my mind and think of why I should do things rather than why I shouldn’t.

I’ve been with my team at work for over 5 ½ years now. I worked my ass off from day one. I swallowed my pride for the first two years. I longed for respect and recognition for the next two. I didn’t really understand how to get it until the beginning of the 5th year. I was recently promoted to Vice President and I might wallpaper my bathroom with my new business cards.

It’s all been so wonderful, but so fast. Sometimes you have to write things down for them to feel real.