I've spent the majority of the past year and a half in varying shades of depression. I think, for the most part, that it's been a situational sort of depression, borne out of the fact that I was burning myself out in Scotland in order to stay there because I loved it so much. So when things in Scotland crumbled anyway, and I found myself flying back to Canada with nary a job or prospect in sight, the world and my experience of it collapsed in quite a few significant ways.
But depression does run in my family, and around six years ago I had an episode of sadness that was not dissimilar to what I've described above. Once again, that period of sadness involved a burn-out -- in that case, I was working 35 hours a week and taking six classes at uni and generally just spreading myself way too thin. It happens. I tend to do this -- throw myself into things full tilt, work really hard, lose sight of the importance of standing back and resting and allowing things to fall naturally into place. I can do it, I always think. I just need to work harder, be better, write more, do more, sleep less. Stop complaining. Reach for every opportunity, and things will eventually come.
Anyway, so I've been depressed -- mostly situational, perhaps a little bit clinically -- for most of the past eighteen months. And I've struggled and cried and tried really hard to lift myself above it. Some days this has worked. Most of the time it hasn't. But I find I'm reaching a point, now, where I can't imagine continuing like this for much longer. It's hard work, being sad most of the day. Sadness spreads -- it infects everything around you, until you get to the point where happiness, or even contentment, feels like a country far away.
I don't want to be like this anymore. And so, today I decided that for the span of one year, I would focus on one small thing, each and every day, that gave me cause for rejoicing. I can do small. I can focus -- part of the problem, one might argue, in the whole depression thing is that one becomes TOO focused on sadness, and unable to see anything else. I would so much rather focus on a thing to make me happy than focus on those things that frustrate me, or make me feel as though I'm floundering, adrift in disappointment at the fizzling out of dreams.
I'm not going to be naive about this, and assume that from here on in every day will be wonderful. Nor am I going to overstretch and imagine that each day will bring something different in which to rejoice. They very well might (and if you're intrigued by the idea of newness, you should definitely check out Kathleen Winter's blog, and her 365 of newness project!), but in all likelihood the year ahead still holds some sad and humdrum days. What's life without a little sadness and boredom? But I'm sure I'll find something to rejoice in, even then. Even if it's the luxury of being able to recognize that I'm bored, for example, and capable of thinking and dreaming my way out of said ennui. Even if it's taking a day to rejoice in the fact that I can be sad, and this can be okay, because it won't last forever.
So I suppose, folks, that we'll see what happens. I'm excited about this right now -- we'll see if I'm still excited about it six months from now! And even though this is technically a writing blog, and this rejoicing project isn't -- or won't be, some days -- strictly about writing, I though I'd post about it here anyway. Because stories will come out of this, somehow.
I'm going to post my rejoicing updates on Twitter, using the hashtag #365daysofrejoicing. And I'll try to keep updating my experiences and my days here, although I can't promise that I'll post every day! Last year, when I did my 365 Flickr photo project, I came SO CLOSE to scrapping the project dozens of times. I have a hunch that the same thing will happen with this. But I promise, from the bottom of my heart, that I will try and see it through. At the very least, I should be able to manage 140 characters of a Twitter update each day, or muster an explanation (ie. international travel, capture and imprisonment by aliens/Twilight fanatics, etc) as to why said update won't be possible in certain cases.
And so, for Day One in my 365 days of rejoicing: today I rejoiced in the presence of an unexpected, free vanilla latté. One of the patients at work left her wallet in the waiting room, and we called her to let her know that it had been turned in. When she came back, she was overflowing with gratitude. And she left us twenty dollars, and told everyone to have a coffee on her, as thanks.
So today I sipped a vanilla latté at work, and reveled in its frothy, warm deliciousness, and thought about how lucky I was, and how blessed.
But depression does run in my family, and around six years ago I had an episode of sadness that was not dissimilar to what I've described above. Once again, that period of sadness involved a burn-out -- in that case, I was working 35 hours a week and taking six classes at uni and generally just spreading myself way too thin. It happens. I tend to do this -- throw myself into things full tilt, work really hard, lose sight of the importance of standing back and resting and allowing things to fall naturally into place. I can do it, I always think. I just need to work harder, be better, write more, do more, sleep less. Stop complaining. Reach for every opportunity, and things will eventually come.
Anyway, so I've been depressed -- mostly situational, perhaps a little bit clinically -- for most of the past eighteen months. And I've struggled and cried and tried really hard to lift myself above it. Some days this has worked. Most of the time it hasn't. But I find I'm reaching a point, now, where I can't imagine continuing like this for much longer. It's hard work, being sad most of the day. Sadness spreads -- it infects everything around you, until you get to the point where happiness, or even contentment, feels like a country far away.
I don't want to be like this anymore. And so, today I decided that for the span of one year, I would focus on one small thing, each and every day, that gave me cause for rejoicing. I can do small. I can focus -- part of the problem, one might argue, in the whole depression thing is that one becomes TOO focused on sadness, and unable to see anything else. I would so much rather focus on a thing to make me happy than focus on those things that frustrate me, or make me feel as though I'm floundering, adrift in disappointment at the fizzling out of dreams.
I'm not going to be naive about this, and assume that from here on in every day will be wonderful. Nor am I going to overstretch and imagine that each day will bring something different in which to rejoice. They very well might (and if you're intrigued by the idea of newness, you should definitely check out Kathleen Winter's blog, and her 365 of newness project!), but in all likelihood the year ahead still holds some sad and humdrum days. What's life without a little sadness and boredom? But I'm sure I'll find something to rejoice in, even then. Even if it's the luxury of being able to recognize that I'm bored, for example, and capable of thinking and dreaming my way out of said ennui. Even if it's taking a day to rejoice in the fact that I can be sad, and this can be okay, because it won't last forever.
So I suppose, folks, that we'll see what happens. I'm excited about this right now -- we'll see if I'm still excited about it six months from now! And even though this is technically a writing blog, and this rejoicing project isn't -- or won't be, some days -- strictly about writing, I though I'd post about it here anyway. Because stories will come out of this, somehow.
I'm going to post my rejoicing updates on Twitter, using the hashtag #365daysofrejoicing. And I'll try to keep updating my experiences and my days here, although I can't promise that I'll post every day! Last year, when I did my 365 Flickr photo project, I came SO CLOSE to scrapping the project dozens of times. I have a hunch that the same thing will happen with this. But I promise, from the bottom of my heart, that I will try and see it through. At the very least, I should be able to manage 140 characters of a Twitter update each day, or muster an explanation (ie. international travel, capture and imprisonment by aliens/Twilight fanatics, etc) as to why said update won't be possible in certain cases.
And so, for Day One in my 365 days of rejoicing: today I rejoiced in the presence of an unexpected, free vanilla latté. One of the patients at work left her wallet in the waiting room, and we called her to let her know that it had been turned in. When she came back, she was overflowing with gratitude. And she left us twenty dollars, and told everyone to have a coffee on her, as thanks.
So today I sipped a vanilla latté at work, and reveled in its frothy, warm deliciousness, and thought about how lucky I was, and how blessed.
Dear Amanda,
ReplyDeleteI would love to know the perfect thing to say to help... if we were in the same city I would suggest another vanilla latte and a nice long walk and talk. Failing that, maybe a chat on the phone? Let me know your number and we'll arrange a time when I can call you -- it has been too long. I love your idea of 365 days of rejoicing, and think I might do the same, if only privately. Thinking of you and sending lots of love from the west coast.
Love, Pamela