I’m in it. Right now. As I type these words.
One of my “episodes.”
The episodes come randomly. No rhyme or reason. They last between 24 hours and, at worst, a week. Typical duration is 2-3 days.
The episodes involve the following: Sapped energy. Feelings of self-disgust. Loss of self-worth. Loss of positive thought about the present, past or future. General apathy toward the world. Lots of naps. If possible, lots of video games.
During normal times, the episodes are tough when one has to pull on the bootstraps and head to a job that entails focus, energy and a positive attitude.
During pandemic times, the episodes are tough because literally everything you read or hear is bad news getting worse. In a way, this is the kind of response I’d be having anyway, even to good news. These days, however, it’s like the whole world is playing along.
The really tough part? The writing. Writing through the depression.
I was diagnosed over a decade ago with chronic depression. This means I get to live with it the rest of my life. Years of therapy have given me a wonderful toolbox, however, to manage it. And now, instead of it being an everyday thing, there’s just the episodes. Once a month? Likely, but these days more like once every 8-10 weeks.
I don’t take pills anymore, and haven’t used therapy in a long time. Both helped me through rough patches, and therapy had a lasting effect—that toolbox I spoke of. Ways for me to reason through the worst of these patches, understand what is happening to me, and adjusting in the healthiest way possible. Mostly this means getting away from people, making sure I’m kind to my wife and child, not throwing the weight of what I’m going through on their shoulders. Some of it gets there anyway, but there’s only so much one can do. We can’t just vanish, as much as we might want to.
Today I was thinking about how hard it is, while in the midst of these episodes, to do the one thing I love doing more than anything else . Which is writing, of course. My escape pod. The one thing I do that brings self-fulfillment, that makes me feel worth something.
But how does one write, how does one create, when dealing with lack of energy, lack of positivity? You can’t motivate yourself because you think the writing is so great (frankly I don’t think that during the good times), and you’re not focused on a bright future of publication because your brain won’t let that happen. You don’t feel like what you’re doing has merit, or what you’ve done has been worthwhile, or noticed, or that anything you’ve ever created is worth a damn.
And yet you’re supposed to sit down and create something new? Why? How?
Which is why I’m here, writing this.
I don’t suggest to have the answers for everyone’s unique situation, but for me I’ve got to be able to write through these periods. Even if it’s a small portion of what I’d normally output on a “good” day.
The answer for me is that I let it all go. I let go of the doubt and pain and discomfort. I let go of the desires and the need for motivation. I let go of the past and the future and I focus on the present. I focus on nothing but the story. The page and the words. It’s like I set myself up in a box, or a small room with no windows and no outside thoughts. A singular moment in present time.
It’s mechanical. Almost robotic. It’s a numbing of the spirit and the mind. It takes incredible focus… but it’s possible.
First, shut off emotions. Leave them dead and forgotten on the floor. Second, shut off the outside world. Get off social media and the internet. Third, don’t think about your career, or your goals, or your other work. Focus only on the story you are writing RIGHT NOW. That story is EVERYTHING. It’s your fucking WORLD.
For me, if I can pull off the above, I can write through. Might not be my best stuff (not thinking about that), might not be my best day of output ever (not thinking about that, either) but it’s something. It’s production. It’s forward movement.
And if I can pull it off, it helps. It raises my self-worth a smidge. Makes me feel better and becomes ammunition to fight the episodes.
Yesterday I lost the battle. Couldn’t pull it off. Today, I’m doubling-down and making myself pull it off. Starting with this blog post. Because sharing helps, maybe helping others helps, as well. I hope so.
Stay strong. Stay safe.
PF