Just when I think I’ve got this depression beat, it comes back with a force. It doesn’t give any notice either—rude—it shows up uninvited and sucker punches me in my soul.
Look, I know the rules. I’ve been learning them since . . . forever.
Aileen’s Rules for Beating Depression
- Exercise regularly.
- Eat right.
- Take medication.
- Go to therapy—which everyone should do, by the way.
- Get enough rest—but not too much.
- Avoid the triggers.
Follow exactly to avoid the weight of depression.
Let’s face it, when you’re feeling depressed, it’s awfully hard to show up at a fitness class or chop up vegetables.
Yikes! Too much!
It’s a lot, isn’t it? It makes me want to grab a cheesecake, cancel my gym membership, and go back to bed.
Let’s face it, when you’re feeling depressed, it’s awfully hard to show up at a fitness class or chop up vegetables. So, it slips up on me and before I know it, I’m grieving over my dog who died 10 years ago and sobbing about missed opportunities.
Depression: Macro, Micro, Mini
For me, depression feels heavy. My depression scoops up the weight of the world and flops it around my shoulders. It gets me thinking about the hardship of poverty, the madness of war, inequities in access to healthcare, mass incarceration… For extra credit, depression points out how little I can do about these things. Which, of course, is depressing.
And those are just the macro issues. The micro problems seep in too. This person’s housing crisis, that one’s toxic relationship. The one with cancer, the one grieving, the one with inadequate transportation, the persistent reality that my parents can’t live forever.
Then when I get to the bottom of that rabbit hole, I look up and see that my laundry needs attention, my Christmas decorations are up and Valentine’s Day is around the corner, I forgot my friend’s birthday, I let the vegetables go bad…
Makes you want cheesecake, doesn’t it?
The one solution for me
My mother always says, “Just do one thing.” It doesn’t have to be a big thing either. Brush your hair. Fold a t-shirt. Toss a piece of trash.
Then do the next thing. Brush your teeth, fold one more shirt, add one thing to the recycle bin.
It works every time. It’s slow and not a quick fix. It’s not a cure or a lifesaver. But it is a moment changer. Once I get upright and get a few tiny little things done, it might occur to me that I could turn on some dance music or that a short walk is doable. And these tiny accomplishments lighten the load. It gives me agency, empowerment.
Look, it’s not a cure. Depression is relentless. But it does help me lift the weight of it just enough so I can start moving again. And sometimes, that’s enough.
