Depression Is Not Logical

I write this post to educate people about depression.

Depression isn’t logical.

Let that sink in.

I’ll repeat it. Depression is NOT logical. The clinical and professionally diagnosed depression is not something that can be combated by logic.

When a rational person thinks about depression, saying things like “just think positive” sounds like a good way to combat the sadness. If someone depressed just prayed more, believed more, or just thought about all the good things then the depression would surely go away, right?

Sadly, that’s not how it works. Depression is far more complicated than that. Let me illustrate it with a story.

A while ago I ran out of medication and had forgotten to get it refilled. However, I went two days without it and I was fine. Then three days and I was fine. Even though I still knew that it should be refilled, I felt hope that maybe I really didn’t need it anymore.  Maybe all the progress I had made actually did help change me. Four days, five days, six days and I was fine!  Day seven rolls around and things started to go downhill. I became more irritated over little things that when I am “normal” I can brush off, like a dirty dish left out on the table, or Corbin fussing in his sleep while he rolls over, or Richard not responding to every request as soon as he hears it.

Day eight rolled around and I’m panicking over everything. The house is a mess and we’re going to be gone for almost a week. Nothing’s packed. Everyone besides me doesn’t feel good. I’m supposed to lead the music in church tomorrow and I have no idea what the songs are. I tried to combat my anxiety as logically as I could- I made a list that put everything in order of importance and just tried to do what I could while I let my sister suffering from heat exhaustion rest and let my husband who had a long day at work sleep. We were all stressed, I knew that, and yet my heart couldn’t stop beating fast and every new little thing that wasn’t getting done felt like the end of the world.

I went to bed that night and I was panicking. I tried all the techniques to pull myself out of the negative cycle and yet the demons in my mind twisted all the good into something negative. I tried to sleep but the fear of the unknown of tomorrow, the feeling of hopelessness because no one seemed to notice the mess that I saw, the hopelessness that the things I had been doing to help myself function and make my little apartment feel like home weren’t important to anyone but myself, the terrifying fear that the next cry from my son would drive me to hurt him or myself simply because I was too shaken up by these negative thoughts in my head.

So I did what I’d always planned to do when the demons in my head were louder than any of my rational or positive thoughts- I pulled on warm clothes and my good walking shoes determined to walk myself to the emergency room. Richard noticed and joined me on my walk.

Now we talked. I told him everything that was driving me crazy as we walked down the hill past the new Maverick Stadium whose jumbotron was still lit at 2:00AM – a good waste of my tuition money if you ask me. But at that point I was like a puppet, but I wasn’t controlling the strings. Even though I was basically telling Richard that it was all his fault that I was feeling x,y, and z I was screaming on the inside that it wasn’t true, I knew that everything that felt overwhelming was the depression talking- and yet I couldn’t stop the demons.

We walked through three sets of church parking lots and there it was, less than half a block away I could see the glowing red Emergency sign of the hospital. I had come this far, but Richard was here with me. He didn’t plan for this long a walk. He had goosebumps, when I had a jacket. He had sandals, while I had tennis shoes. He had come all this way to make sure that I wouldn’t harm myself. I wouldn’t have, because I had never really planned to. I came all this way seeking help.

The good news is that the walking and the talking finally helped the rational part of me break through the demon’s wall and I cried and I apologized. We walked back home. We went online and ordered a refill. I snuggled with my husband who held me close and repeated to me several times he loved me until we both fell asleep at around 4:00 AM.

I tell this story to show just how hard it is sometimes to pull your-self out of the clutches of negative and “irrational” thoughts. Those of us that face depression don’t want to face these demons. We don’t feel glamorous or successful when we inform others of our plight. We don’t want to drag others down with us. We wouldn’t wish our predicament on anyone. That is why we so often DON’T let people know what’s going on- because we would rather fight our demons alone, than risk losing our friends or family to a battle they cannot win.

So what can you do to help?

When your friend or family member who battles with depression is having a good day, ask what their safety plan is. Ask them what they need when they fear that a negative cycle is going to begin. I’ve already set one up- I post that “I am having a BAD DAY” on my facebook and the friends that choose to help that day will post funny pictures, give me words of love and encouragement, family members shoot me a text or call me, and sometimes they even knock on my door and spend time with me.

Maybe your friend needs to just sit on your couch and draw while you go about your day.

Maybe your family member just needs you to say that you’re praying for them.

Everyone is different, and there are as many ways for people to combat depression as there are people who battle with it. To those who fight it, know that I’m fighting alongside you. To those who have to watch, continue to share your love and support- your encouragement is always appreciated, even if we don’t thank you for it.