10 ways to conquer depression

It is a source of continual amazement and delight to me, the way we manage to find the light.

How do you help yourself feel better when darkness strikes? How do you lift yourself out of the mire?

I have received the grace of, by this time in my life, discovering many ways to navigate through darkness back to the light. Many of these ways overlap or are very closely related to each other. Sometimes one simply needs that slight variance for it to click into your brain and work, to really speak to you and do the trick.

  1. The 10% rule: A friend once taught me to ask: What can you do right now that will make you feel 10% better? It can be something as simple as listening to a song, or gaining back a sense of control by doing the dishes, or making a gratitude list, or going for a walk. There are billions of little things you can do right now to feel 10% better. And then 10% more…and 10% more, until you have bootstrapped yourself out of the pit. It is often easier to sneak your way into feeling better than to aim for an all-or-nothing victory. Conquer the darkness by stealth!
  2. The smile rule: Moving the facial muscles into a smile is the most direct way to affect the brain. You can enhance your brain chemistry by smiling. Or by walking. Or by meditating where you focus on cultivating an inner smile: smiling with your eyes, the inside of your mouth, your heart … until you smile with your entire chest, opening up to the world … and on, and on, and on. Softening your whole body into a smile … I know of few other things that can so quickly bring as profound a sense of contentment as this.
  3. The enlarged container rule: There are times when all we need is to be taken out of ourselves for a while. We get so wound up and tied into knots dealing with a problem that it can overpower our entire existence. It is good to sometimes do something that will completely distract us from the war. And I’m not referring here to the numbing things we are so good at, like eating or watching television or over-working. I am talking about things that will enlarge our container so that we can view the world with perspective again. Visiting friends, going out into the world, walking or exercise, listening to a sermon, podcast or TED Talk, doing something deliberately engaging or delightful. Whatever it is, just do it to show your brain that there is more to life than this current challenge.
  4. The bottom rule: Sometimes it helps to stop fighting the darkness and simply accept it, stop thrashing about as you fall into the pit and quietly settle to the bottom where you know you can’t go any deeper. It sounds immensely counter-intuitive but it’s not. There is incredible relief in knowing you can’t fall any deeper – this is as bad as it’s going to get. From this point onwards, the only way is up. Just this quiet acceptance, this falling, can help conserve vital energy you need for climbing back out instead of burning it up through resistance. Saying to yourself, ‘Okay, here I am. It’s that time of darkness again. I have dealt with it before. I can deal with it again.’
  5. The observer rule: Step outside yourself and observe the darkness as if it were a completely separate person. Look into yourself with compassion and childlike curiosity. Treat it as if this were a story and the main character – you – has just been required by the author to undergo a serious spurt of character growth. How would she grow through this challenge the author threw at her? How would he become the hero in his story, however reluctantly and falteringly? Because take my word for it: we are all the heroes in our stories. And the good stories are the ones in which challenges are overcome. We have such immense worth that we are never written into boring stories! Of course we are going to face challenges! Lift yourself out of this immediate experience and look down onto your life as a compassionate observer. Lovingly, always lovingly. And curious, always curious. Whispering to yourself, ‘Oh, how fascinating! I do wonder what is going to happen next?’
  6. The therapist rule: Healing from depression might be as straightforward as finding a good therapist and talking things out. I have immense respect for my therapist – because she knows what questions to ask. And I don’t always know. People say they can figure out their own minds; they don’t need to pay hundreds or thousands of dollars for someone else to peer into their lives. And that might be so, but only if you know what questions to ask. Only if you stand back far enough to see the patterns. And it doesn’t happen easily or automatically. You have to search. It took me hitting two blanks before I was the third time lucky and came to someone who just opened up my mind like a flower. Words can’t describe my gratitude for how much she has helped me this past year, how much she has empowered me.
  7. The inner therapist rule: And then there is this almost opposite approach: be your own therapist. If you were your own patient and in need of help, what advice would you give you in this situation? We carry an amazing treasury of wisdom within. If only we will become still and ask and listen. It can be a small thing, an inner knowing that what you really need right now to get out of this hole is simply the security of a dependable bedtime, as if you are a child that is loved and put to bed at 21:00 every night by parents that know she will be less cranky in the morning if she sleeps enough. Or your inner therapist can tell you to this week go do one thing that will make you feel treated, that will remind you that you are cherished. What advice would you give yourself? What homework for inner healing? What support?
  8. The purpose rule: When you accept that nothing happens without a purpose, life starts to make more sense. And as Viktor Frankl and many others point out, knowing this gives meaning to suffering. If you know that – no matter how senseless this suffering feels right now – a day will come when you will see the purpose in it, and will use it for good, then you can get through it. Imagine how you can one day help someone else who wrestles with the black dog. Or how your example may save a life one day. Imagine what rock solid tested-by-experience advice you can one day give to a fellow human being in need, because you went through something similar. And you may very well be the only person who can help them because of your unique experience. Why is this strategy so powerful? Because it changes us from victims into leaders. It empowers us. And I believe when we realize that we are leaders and that we have something to give, it imparts a true sense of nobility to us that enables us to move mountains.
  9. The wheel rule: This is the first bit of advice that ever helped me navigate depression. I read it as Burt Reynolds quoting Clint Eastwood, who said: ‘The wheel always turns again.’ Meaning that sooner or later, the wheel will turn you out of darkness into light, out of misery into joy. And after that, it will turn you out of light back into darkness again. And once more back into the light. All you have to do is trust the process. Stay on the wheel. Whatever this is, it will pass. Depression can pass through you. You can pass through depression. There is always something greater up ahead. If only you will stay the course. Knowing this helps me navigate through the challenges of life a lot more evenly because it diminishes the darkness (which, let’s face it, can be quite egotistical in its belief that it is absolute – a lie!) and it expands the light. What a comfort!
  10. The true name rule: The word is powerful. Name it like it is. In Ursula K. Le Guin’s Earthsea novels, to know the true name of a thing or a person is to have power over it or them. That is how magic works in that fictional realm, but it is not far-fetched even in real life. Our words have power. These days ‘depression’ has become such a huge blanket-word that even children use it (!) But often it does not serve us well. When I say I am depressed, it brings with it an immediate and overpowering sense of helplessness. I suspect in you, too. But what if we are wrong? What if we could be more specific in identifying what ails us? Test this for yourself and see if it does not make a world of a difference! Change ‘I am depressed,’ into ‘I am sad,’ ‘I am too tired,’ ‘I am disappointed,’ ‘I feel insecure.’ Finding the true name of what we’re dealing with empowers us! I can deal with sadness, with disappointment, with not knowing what to do in a difficult situation … far, far better than with depression! Don’t let the darkness fool you into using that word unless it is the absolute truth. I would even go as far as to say that you have the power to not use that word at all – that there is always a better, healthier choice!

In time, those bouts of blackness lose their grip on you. They cease to be the nightmarish monsters that completely paralyze you with fear. Because you know from experience that they are not as big and scary as they make themselves out to be. They are simply a natural part of this life for those of us who are sensitive to light and dark. They are real, yes, but the light is real, too! And that is the perspective that empowers you.

Art by Silver Saaremäel

Art by Silver Saaremäel

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it’s good and natural

Photographer unknown

Photographer unknown

I was touched reading this article in the New York Times: Getting grief right.

Why? Because to me it highlights one of the key things we tend to nowadays forget about losing a loved one: it is good and natural to feel sad.

You have permission to grieve.

The fact that you are sad does not necessarily mean that you are depressed – it means that you loved that person well. And that is good!

Instead of accepting that, we labour under the lie that we should get back to coping as soon as possible, show the world that we’ve put the grieving process behind us. So we put on a mask for the world and push the sadness down. And we think we are doing a good thing. We are not!

Let me tell you this from my own experience and everything I’ve seen in other people: forcing emotions to go undercover does not take care of them – they will grow in the hidden darkness, and they will demand attention. It may not happen now, but sooner or later they will exact the respect you did not give them.

Because that is what it boils down to: respecting our emotions and accepting them, whatever they are. There rests immense freedom in the ability to do that!

Be honest with yourself about how you feel.

And then, when you’ve been honest, accept it with compassion. There is no way you have to feel, and no way you are not allowed to feel. There are no shoulds.

There is only the truth of what is. Be tender with yourself, accept it lovingly, and respectfully allow grief to work its intended healing.

learning curve

sea

You would think that looking back, a year of disabling illness would appear completely flat and bare: wasted space. The dry desert of months of doing nothing but survive from day to day. But you would be wrong.

Looking back, you’d stand amazed at just how rich a year it was. Because the physical challenges drove you deep into your spirit, into finding truth.

And you learn:

  1. Reality is not what we can observe here in the physical world. Reality goes deeper, reigns in the spiritual world. Don’t believe everything you see, hear, touch, feel, or experience. Even the most appalling suffering carries a deeper reality of light hidden within. We are not beings who can see deeply within, except for occasional glimpses. But we can trust in the truth of reality being far more right than it appears.
  2. Don’t simply believe your thoughts. Just because they are in your head doesn’t make them true. It doesn’t even always make them yours. Always examine what you think before accepting a thought as truth, before taking ownership of it.
  3. The smaller the container of your spirit, the easier it is for things to upset you, to slosh like a storm in a teacup right over the rim. Stress contracts and shrinks us. Enlarge your container! If one person upsets you, place yourself among more people to gain balance. If an experience makes you contract within, tightening your container, then breathe into you heart, opening it up, softening it.
  4. Meditate, meditate, meditate. Be mindful. We lead such fractured lives of distraction, we forget how to simply BE. Mindfulness helps to remind us how, it draws us back into the moment. This moment is all there really is. Not the past that haunts you, not the future that baffles you. This moment.
  5. Acceptance goes a long way towards alleviating suffering. When we enter the place of wanting-it-different, whether it is pain we’re not accepting, or someone’s influence in our life, or some other circumstance, we suffer. When instead we simply sit with the pain or the anger or fear, no longer trying to change it or get away from it, then we discover how fluid and alive it is, and what gift it brings. We discover that it holds no power over us when we simply accept it as It is, because it allows our I am to stand pure and strong.
  6. You are stronger than you think. Believe me. Whatever the pain, whatever the trauma in your life, you can handle it. Perhaps not on the first try, and that is perfectly okay, but you can and will handle it. You are stronger than you think!
  7. Nothing is senseless or futile or random … if you learn from it. It is your choice whether you seek the purpose in it or resist it. If you approach all experiences as containing something to teach you, you will find that treasure. It might take a week, a month, a year, but you will not be disappointed.
  8. You need balance. Always. You can’t afford to go all or nothing in one aspect of your life only. You can’t strive to be all yang without harming your yin. You can’t protect your yin at the expense of your yang. Thinking has to be in balance with doing. Exertion has to be in balance with rest. Meals have to be balanced. Like all heavenly bodies, we were designed to be basically spherical, all forces pulling in equal directions within us.

Finding abundance in a year of challenge – and this is just the tip of the iceberg – it is all grace! And best of all? You realize that if God can shower you with such treasures that turn the desert into an oasis, just imagine what will happen in the oasis itself!

returning

Ten months of silence here on The Porch while I channelled all available energy into the war my immune system has been waging for more than a year now. The war is far from over yet, but I’m fighting with the help of enough reinforcements at the moment that there is energy for occasional forays back from the front onto The Porch. Shore leave for the weary warrior, however unpredictable it may be.

It is a return, and it is a beginning. I don’t even understand the blogging world anymore.

But I can journal, can give expression to the need to write. And that is, after all, the principal reason The Porch was born.

holding on too tight

I am battling a skin issue. First of all, my gums get inflamed, perplexing the dentist. Then little blisters start forming on my arm and hands, breaking into lesions that don’t heal, and that itch, itch, itch.  And my palms … the slightest pressure creates painful and itchy welts and weals.

As if I’m doing hard labor.

As if I’m holding on for dear life.

And in between all the doctors, all the tests, all the bafflement, the realization strikes me:

I am holding on too tight.

Look at my hands and you can see it, palms marked as if by the death grip of a survivor. So painful from the effort that now I can’t hold on to anything without hurting, not a hairbrush, not a broom – hands opening up reflexively to let go.

And I have to wonder: what is my body trying to tell my spirit?

I think I know.

safe

safe
the keys on the keyboard are placed close together
.
.
S
A
F
E
.
.
the fingers of your left hand can dance over them and create the word
safe
.
.
ring finger
pinky
index finger
middle finger
thumb for the space
a whole hand dance for that one little word
.
.
it wouldn’t have been the same if the other hand had had to get involved in typing it
fracturing the word between two hands
.
.
no, this is contained
one word
one hand
one dance all independent
.
.
a little fort contained between the bones of the fingers
and the dome of the palm
safe
secure
protected
.
.
and you are grateful for the grace of a word that is what it says to be
even on the keyboard
 
large-keyboard

it is ALWAYS there

You feel there is no hope, no hope at all.

No light to beckon you back out of darkness.

And so you despair.

But when you experience this hopelessness long enough and often enough, you learn the real truth: Hope is ALWAYS there.

You just can’t always perceive it.

And knowing this makes all the difference. Because you can deal with simply not being able to perceive hope – that is a temporary affliction. As long as there is hope out there somewhere – always hope – you can deal with the blindness that comes over you from time to time.

Because the blind can grasp at hope too, grab hold of it, even in their darkness.

More importantly, HOPE always pursues us, knowing full well that we are not able to find it every time. It reaches out and finds us. All we have to do is to quit flailing about in panic and become aware.

It may trickle in small, in the way you notice the beauty of the sunlight caressing the lawn in the late afternoon, or how amazing it is that you can draw in breath that keeps your body running from moment to moment. It may be as simple as becoming aware of how your sweater hugs you so warmly, or the fact that you can still smile just for yourself. Don’t be fooled by how small these pin pricks of light are. They are far from trivial, because they build on each other to lift the blindness from you. They grow and let more light flood in, until finally, you can see hope in all its vastness and glory again.

If you feel hopeless, take this advice from a veteran warrior in the fight against depression:

  1. Hope is always there. 
  2. Trust in that.
  3. Breathe.
  4. Become still enough to let it find you. 
  5. That’s all you have to do for now.
  6. Everything is going to be all right.

Surely goodness and mercy will pursue me all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. – Psalm 23:6

light