May 02, 2008What I Did When I Got DepressedI've been waiting a while to write this: in late March and early April, I was depressed and it wasn't one of those little two-day dips that I've grown accustomed to the last several years. This was the real thing: major depression. Two weeks of being stuck to the couch, sleeping 12 hours a day, barely able to eat at times (yet putting on weight!) and hardly able to write. It's a miracle that I managed to write posts here and I am sure they weren't very good. On the professional front, I had to contact one of the editors I write for and tell her that I simply couldn't pump out an assignment they wanted. It was dark and cloudy out, alternately raining and snowing, an endless Seattle winter. I had no one to hang out with mostly and was up against a host of midlife crisis crap: 45, unmarried, unattached (women in Seattle simply don't care for men like me), no prospect of ever having a family and my news reporting career basically over (that's true, it basically is), and I was staring at a future where I cannot pay off my debts, I have no health insurance and all that fun stuff. Somewhere in there, I interviewed for a job outside of journalism, was told I was a fine fit for what they wanted and was then told the next week that I was not a good fit. By email. At nine p.m. Nice touch. I never get depressed in March, but all of those things working together sure sealed the deal. They are the kind of things that make grown men (and women) put guns in their mouths and pull the trigger or jump off a bridge or what have you. I'm not being dramatic here. Men and women in their 40s off themselves at a remarkably high rate, the men especially. I understand why they get there. Fortunately, I don't get suicidal anymore (haven't in years) and the thought never crossed my mind, but it was a very rough go otherwise. In fact, it was the single worst bout of depression I've had since 2003 at least. Despite the fact that I manage to handle the little squalls of depression I sometimes get very well (I've largely been free of them since 2005), the black dog was coming around to let me know who's boss. And it is. I couldn't even listen to music and when that happens I know that shit is fucked up. Ironically, I had just finished reporting and writing a piece on Erick Turner's paper on the inefficacy of anti-depressants and there I was depressed off my ass, or onto my ass, waiting for the darn thing to run. Somewhere in there I was scheduled to see my psychiatrist, who I only see ever three months now. I called his office and canceled the appointment. I knew what would happen if I went in and was honest about what was up. We'd have a nice chat about whether I wanted to be on meds, what meds I would be on and for how long. And I would probably end up telling him that since I've been off meds nine months, I wouldn't be going back onto them. I didn't want to have that talk. Besides, let's say I went in and saw him and he talked me into to taking pill X. Let's say pill X worked like magic right out of the chute. I'd be undepressed but still not able to get full-time work. Nothing about my life would be resolved. Just how I felt about it. That's an empty game. Back in the day when I got depressed and life started dragging like a wagon missing a wheel, I would hightail it to my psychiatrist (whomever that was at the time) and there would be a med switch. Or a dose increase. Or something. And, then, six months later, I'd be back, depressed, and we'd do it all over again. By the standards of manic depression (and that's still my official diagnosis), I was the king of unipolar depression. That's how I got on so many meds over the years and so many combinations of meds and I've paid a very high price for all of that. I'm pretty sure I am still withdrawing from all those years of meds, or my brain and body are readjusting and I simply cannot go down that road again. With the experiences I've had, anti-depressants scare me. I could maybe pop a small dose of Seroquel for a day or two and see if that flipped the switch back the right way, but I wasn't down for that either. The Seroquel fog is not a party. One day, I sat on my couch and that all hit me. When it comes to meds, I was out of options. They either don't work for me particularly well or mess me up over time. As much as I'd love to trot off to a therapist and see if there is any voodoo for me in CBT, well that was not going to happen either. No money will do that to a guy. Rent and food and such do come first. I've been in the clear more or less for three weeks now. I'm not 100 percent. My energy is low and some days I simply have to force myself to write. I've never had to force myself to write since I was 19. I don't know if this is some kind of lingering trait of depression or if the low energy is due to withdrawal from long-term use of psych meds or what is up. I just don't know and neither do the docs. Oh, they'll call it depression--or minor depression now--and suggest that I get all doped up on something. But why at this point would I go back on their drugs when I know how rough it is to get off them later? Or, why would I stay on them for a lifetime when I know they don't stop depression for me? For me, the miracle anti-depressant doesn't exist. So, yeah, I rode things out as best I could. A week ago, I was talking with a friend of mine about this on the phone. "Aren't you proud that you didn't go to the doctor and get medicated?" she asked. "No," I said. "I'm relieved, but not in a happy way." And that's kind of where things stand. I'm OK, but dragging. Maybe it's the lack of sun. It's been ugly and cloudy here in Seattle (still!!!) and I just cannot get my motor going no matter how hard I try, no matter how attentive I am to eating and vitamins and so on. Maybe my sleep isn't the best, but I've had several nights in a row of solid, eight-hour snoozes. Maybe I'm still in mourning for a career I will never get back (and I won't. News reporting has gone out of fashion in our culture. People only want mouthy opionistas and feature articles that make them feel good and I ain't neither of those kind of writers. OK, I have mouthy opinions about mental health issues, but that is clearly something the mainstream media--you know, the people who pay people salaries to write and report--is definitely not interested in. Unless you are pimping for the mainstream). Who knows? And that's just it--no one ever knows. Posted by Philip Dawdy at May 2, 2008 12:05 AM
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everything i've been doing has been a facade of late trying to not admit to being severely depressed, non functional kind. doing what's required of me and that's it. declined a job offer yesterday, because of the fatigue. avoided with all of my might any increase of meds and actually in rebellion of sort tapered one. that wasn't pleasant, gained weight the last month eating fish and vegetables while i watched it rain and snow and wonder what the fuck is wrong with me. thanks for writing this, because i tend to write like 1500 posts on my blog and never really say it like it is. fucking depression! Posted by: Stephany at May 2, 2008 12:12 AMHi It's interesting, isn't it? My career's over, too. Regrettably, nobody wants a compliance officer in the financial services industry who actually tries to have his company comply with the Law! And so it is, I think: if one sets the bar too high, and requires people to alter their behaviour, or inconveniences their slightly off-colour activities (if I may put it as diplomatically as that), then one will be seen, not as a principled, decent human being, but as a trouble-maker, to be ostracized. Moreover, once one has been pigeonholed in that way, it will be very difficult for anybody to perceive anything that one does in any way other than that one is trying to "make trouble". Not only that, but any qualities and skills that one possesses will be overlooked, on the basis that people are afraid of what one might do. There are a lot of frightened people out there, Philip, and most of them are running the show. Matt Posted by: Matthew Holford at May 2, 2008 02:18 AMI don't know what to say Philip. Dear Philip, “…the black dog was coming around to let me know whose boss.” --- Philip Dawdy
To each his own as to how to fend off what I refer to as “the beast.” I hope that these cycles for you become fewer and far between as I continue to extend my best wishes to you and others for wellness. Warmly, OK, but dragging. I'm in the same place right now. Don't know if it's depression or psych med withdrawal, but I do know that if I go in to see my psychiatrist, he'll push Abilify again. Here's to hoping we both feel better soon. --Jazz Posted by: Jazz at May 2, 2008 05:40 AMWord. I also never blog about it while it's happening, and torture myself about it; trying to preserve some image, or dreading sympathetic comments, I don't know. And then when it's passed, and I *know* I'm not gonna off myself, I'll communicate, weird. Depression is so alienating, solitary, gets in the way of everything. I appreciate this post. I'm another one who uses not listening to music as a cluestick, can go weeks before admitting to myself what that means. Posted by: flawedplan at May 2, 2008 05:56 AMYou have my sympathies. When recovering from depression, I have to force myself to do even things I enjoy and am good at. The last vestige takes ages to lift for me - maybe you're having the same problem? Hope things improve somewhat soon for you. Posted by: DeeDee Ramona at May 2, 2008 06:42 AMSorry you are going through a seriously rough patch. If you are serious about giving CBT a go, there are plenty of decent enough books out there. I kind of liked Feeling Good by Burns and still pick it up on occasion if I need a reminder to get off my duff. Take care of yourself. Rest well. Summer will come. Posted by: tilting at windmills at May 2, 2008 06:56 AMHi there, Take care and blessed be. Thank you for sharing this with us. Knowing how you have dealt with those approaching hounds of gloom this time to keep them at bay helps others in the same situation, believe me! I used to live in the Pacific Northwest (Vancouver, Canada), and for those 20 years I was getting depressed ever more severely every winter. It wasn't until I moved to California many years ago that I realized how much sunshine affects the depth of the depression that I always had (and have inherited from my father), regardless of weather.... Then again, growing up in Easter Europe, that which was called depression in me here in America, was just a national trait and healthy skepticism back in my native country (as well the source of much creative activity. Posted by: maria at May 2, 2008 08:48 AMPhillip, This is a good piece of writing. I can't help but think you'll get a rent paying writing gig with health insurance someday soon. I too am 45 and find my 40's hard strangely because I'm comfortable with myself, except for the fact that I'm dead broke. My new job will cover about 3/4 of my rent so I'm probably going back to an old college gig, pizza delivery, to supplement, assuming I can get a job doing so. I've thought of trying to get back on psych drugs but as you say "I'd be undepressed but still not able to get full-time work. Nothing about my life would be resolved. Just how I felt about it. That's an empty game." And the after effects of taking the two psych drugs I thought were loads of fun at the time, paxil and klonipin, would probably be even worse now that I'm in my 40's than they were in my 30's. Still, if you ever feel so blue that you find your self in the "prescriptions to be filled" line at the pharmacists, I'll support that decision too. But I think you'll make it without the drugs. Sometimes life just sucks. Posted by: Sally at May 2, 2008 08:53 AMPhilip - It sucks that a writer with your talent is not able to make a good living doing what you do so well. That's not mental illness requiring, that's a human response to a sh*tty situation. It is of no substantial help to your situation, but I do so appreciate the work you do. I'm pulling for you. Deborah Posted by: Deborah at May 2, 2008 10:26 AMhi there, good decision not to take the pills. every winter it seems the dark and cold here in alaska seem to get to me more and more. its a battle to not sleep 12 hours a day,struggling to get out of bed by 10:30, eat lots of fatty foods and get more and more depressed. my kids help. they are so funny ,like live-in comedians at times. but then around jan. just when it gets really unbearable, i head to hawaii. i have a small farm there. keeps me busy outside trying to catch up on a years worth of weeds. within 2 to 3 days, i can feel whatever the darkness was inside just vaporize. i don't know why it works but it does. it feels like a slight vibration, almost like when you're near a florescent light which has a bad ballast. if you don't look directly at it you can see a vibration in the light, but if you look its not visible? anyway its almost like that, but internal. i can almost sense an internal 'vibration', very very subtlely, but if you try to focus on it,it's gone. within a day or two the vibration is gone, so is the depression. i'm convinced it has something to do with the light. within a day i am waking up around 5:30 or 6, craving veggies, and fruit. the weight drops off with no effort. crazy.so,my advise is to make a friend with a farm or big yard, in hawaii, bring a tent for sleeping, and say goodbye to seattle and depression for the winter. works for me. good luck. see you over there... Posted by: debi at May 2, 2008 10:40 AMHang in there, Philip; you're a talented guy and have a lot to offer the world. I hope things turn around for you soon. And also to Stephany and others who are feeling poorly right now - I really hope you feel better soon. Posted by: Garth at May 2, 2008 11:04 AMI read your comments with interest. I'm 75 and for years have been in Prozac and Wellbutrin. I don't get the "proud not to have taken drugs" theme that runs through several of the posts. I take them every day and am grateful they are available. I remember the old days. My wife put it well: You're not a different person, you're just your best self more often. I worry about the anti-drug message. Someone who could be helped significantly might be turned off. Everyone is and reacts differently. That is an important message. Posted by: Bill Buffett at May 2, 2008 11:18 AMI came across this blog post just at the right time. I am bipolar too and currently going through a very intense downswing. The thing is, my real life is going nearly perfect. Everything is wonderfully working out for me in my career, education, friends/family circles. I'm getting lots of sun, fresh air, and exercise. I'm eating healthy and being social. I guess the only thing I can sort of whine about is being perpetually single. And yet I feel like utter crap and miserable all day. I'm too scared to go on meds again and I don't have much faith in therapy. I guess just hearing that there are others out there like me, going through tough emotional turmoils, makes me feel a bit less lonely. Thanks for this post. I'd never have the guts to write something like this on my own blog. Posted by: anon at May 2, 2008 11:23 AMThe "miracle antidepressant" you need is a real change in your circumstances. I actually think there's a better chance of that happening off meds than on, so I'm glad you had the courage to stick with that, but I'm really sorry you're struggling right now. Your reaction to it all seems pretty appropriate to be honest. Gradually there will be little joys to cling on to and they will grow into something. I know this "advice" sounds so simplistic in light of the sh*t you're dealing with but what about exercise? Do you like dogs? Can you get one from the pound and take it for long walks? I know it's another expense. Moving even just a bit every day to start with can make a difference and then there's social life. Just keep those life lines with friends going. And don't give up completely on Seattle women -- it would only take one to make a difference. Anyway forgive me for going into problem solving mode -- it's part of my nature. I'm just really sorry you have to go through this. You deserve better and thanks so much for sharing this. Posted by: Sara at May 2, 2008 12:13 PMSara brings up walking a dog-- and i have no energy and a dog that likes walks, want me to drop him off Philip?! Posted by: Stephany at May 2, 2008 12:45 PMJust wondering how Bill Buffet found his way here. I wonder what he was googling and why. Depression? Antidepressant? Glad he's happy -- really -- but is that the whole story? Posted by: Sara at May 2, 2008 12:56 PMI'm glad Sara said that! Here is what I wrote before reading her comment: I have a dog! 49, unmarried, unattached (I would have to explain so many to Rio de Janeiro's men that I gave up trying), no prospect of ever having a family (it does not butter me for I don't want a family, just a boyfriend would do) and I was staring at a future where I cannot pay off my debts, I have no health insurance and all that fun stuff. I just landed here from reddit and I'll drop a quick comment before I check out some more of the site.
If its any consolation Philip .. Philip, I have been enjoying your post for a while now. Your an excellent writer. Life can get real bad sometimes or at least feel that way. I have been there. I'm in recovery now, but have suffered from depression all of my life - I'm 47. I understand all that you are saying and wish you well! I also look forward to continually reading your posts. Take care! I found the below article reassuring because I'm going through a mid-life depression too...my life seems to have passed me by but I still have ambitions that will likely not be fulfilled. Articles like these suggest we come to terms with our unfulfilled ambitions and get happier once we're on the other side of 40's. http://www.sciam.com/article.cfm?id=midlife-misery-is-there-happiness-after-the-40s there are other articles that talk about this phenomena too. It's not that it makes this period all that much easier, but perhaps we really do have something to look forward to. Posted by: Gianna at May 2, 2008 09:17 PMyou know what i think? i think if things are not the way they should be/how we want them to be at this age bracket, it is terrifying, defeating and depressing that the truth is --it's like being back in our 20's and starting out/yet it's starting over. so like for me i'm 48, had a family, have grown kids, one ends up shockingly high need the last 3 years which made it more complex,marriage over, and broke. so i'm back at square one, as a person, and yet at age 48 it's hard to see life fully optimistically when you are not 20! i feel young in my mind, i know i would like things better, different, the fact is, i feel i'm staring at a brick wall or into a dark tunnel. just that alone could be depression or it could be an actual reality check; which then leads to depression. I can really relate to your depression. I had one last winter which was just terrible. P.S. Just wanted to add something about my comment. I know you already have cats. Cats and dogs can and do learn to live with each other in harmony. There's a break-in period for sure that can be a little traumatic for the cats but eventually they learn and in fact they usually end up ruling the roost rather than the dog. Cats are therapeutic too, but not quite like a dog that just oozes unconditional love and affection. Anyway . . . more gratuitous advice on how to handle depression and, believe me, no one knows all the reasons, but I would say "All of the above" are pretty applicable in what you describe. I hope it stays better. Well, I will add one thing about withdrawal -- just an observation but I swear I've seen it several times and that is, 6-9 months out, after coming off, something switches and people get badly depressed. For example, I remember one acquaintance came off Celexa -- she'd been on it a few years, after being on Prozac before that (and she was put on the Celexa to solve what by hindsight were surely Prozac withdrawal issues). She got off all right, but 6 months later she started breaking down into tears, crying all the time, and she couldn't put her finger on any real reason for it. I urged her to stay off the drugs (sorry, drug supporters!) and you know what, she came out of it and has been fine ever since and glad to be off the drugs. Just telling you. Posted by: Sara at May 3, 2008 02:55 PMi have a 9 year old cat and a 4 year old dog. if pets remove depression i'm the Pope. One thing I want to add here is weight gain happens after removing psych drugs for up to 2 years after going off of them. Metabolism is fucked up on them and after it is worse. i'm not the first person to comment (via reading other sites) that they gain weight AFTER stopping meds. I seriously regret tapering Xanax. I would rather be on it than gain weight and feel miserable for how many more years going off of it? I'd rather be drugged and happy and weigh less. Stay off of meds during a life crisis and when the crisis is over, you will not have the after effects of psych meds to deal with as life gets better. Posted by: Stephany at May 3, 2008 06:04 PMI agree with the person who said this blog makes them feel less lonely. That's very important to me right now. Just wanted to express my appreciation. Posted by: Sophia at May 3, 2008 07:23 PMWell I wasn't suggesting dogs as a cure-all -- just saying they can be therapeutic and what I was really talking about was WALKING the dog, i.e. getting exercise! Either way neither is really a solution, just help along the way to improving a tough situation. A lab named Riley really helped me when my daughter died. I didn't know that about weight gain after withdrawal -- yuck -- they get you coming and going don't they? Posted by: Sara at May 3, 2008 09:16 PMStephany, sweet, pets cannot cure depression. Take a look at this site: It seems to me that the biological cure is in our minds more than we want. It looks as if it were so naive of him because when the worst hours, or days of depressed state comes all the ability and desire to do anything disappear. I don't know what is the right thing to do during these periods.
Sara,I know you weren't saying they are a cure-all I kinda snapped about the dog/cat thing. My dog has been the only reason I've laughed during all of this crisis with my life; and he forces me to have to get out to walk because Huskys are not the kind to want to lay around! and I agree the cat ends up ruling the roost; mine does. I also agree this thread has helped me like the other people say they are feeling less alone and I appreciate reading all of the input and Sara, I appreciate your tips, esp knowing you're talking about a horrible time you endured and survived it. I've pretty much given up on that light at the end of the tunnel though. Posted by: Stephany at May 4, 2008 08:59 AMI frequently tell people my psychiatrist is a Basset Hound. They don't get it, but my dog does help. I've suffered some huge loses started at 40. Here at 45, my dog and cats keep me going. I'm not saying they cure depression but they give me something to live for. I take good care of my animals. No one else could care for them properly. True or not I believe this and there it days they are all that keep me going. But they are a lot. As for a light at the end of the tunnel, I'm now focusing on cursing the darkness with a grin on my face. Humans and pills are often a disappointment. Pets, magic. Posted by: Sally at May 4, 2008 10:53 AMre: horses being therapeutic,very true. i don't own a horse, but have been involved with horses since age 10 or something. they are like human spirits. i think in the midst of the bad stuff it's hard to see an end to it(that light at the end of the tunnel).i've also been painting(on canvas)and as many things as i can to cope creatively.i also think the bad weather does not help at all, to be sun deprived for 9 months! Posted by: Stephany at May 4, 2008 11:46 AMPhillip, no the seroquel fog is definitely not a party. This is so familiar to me. I know you have little faith in meds but have you and your doctor talked about Lamictal? It's not an SSRI. I don't think I can explain how much it changed my life. You are a blank slate right now. I hope you can at least find freedom in that. Also, get one of those happy lights, Seattle weather will squash your soul. Posted by: t. anne at May 4, 2008 02:59 PM"You are a blank slate right now." Pardon me? Anyone who is writing as prolifically as Philip is hardly a "blank slate;" that wasn't a very apt choice for a metaphor. The recommendation for Lamictal is pretty ironic. Check the archives. Posted by: Sara at May 4, 2008 04:23 PMThe blank slate free of medications and being real off of them is the goal. Blank slate in the context of the referenced post re: Lamictal....well is what most psychiatrists love to see walk into their office. 2 or 4 weeks on a couch drug free while being able to think about life is the best medicine. Once a person comes out of the un-medicated fog-funk they will get on with life and without chemicals. That, in my opinion is real life. Though some people benefit from medication, I dare to remark that the author of this blog is fully aware of the results of those trials at a near 2 decade long battle. Posted by: Stephany at May 4, 2008 08:04 PMPhil,
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