A Bout of Depression

 I wish I could tell you that I’ve made a seamless transition back into real life after surgery.

But I haven’t.

At least internally.

Externally I’ve done just fine.

I’ve successfully returned to work and picked up teaching.

I’ve played at a wedding.

I’ve officiated a funeral.

I’ve celebrated birthdays.

I’ve returned to choir practice and Sunday morning worship.

I’ve attended a couple of shows.

My calendar isn’t as full as it was two months ago,

But it’s filling up again.

Externally I’m doing just fine.

But internally, things aren’t going as well.

To put it simply and bluntly:

I’ve been a bit depressed.

I’ve had a hard time making myself do all of the above,

Because, really, I just want to sleep, puzzle, watch game shows or cook with my mom, or make tin art.

I have no reason to be depressed.

Surgery went well.

The recovery process has gone well.

Nothing is really “wrong.”

Yet depression doesn’t always rely on reason.

 

In counseling last week,

Joe asked if, in my experience, anxiety and depression went hand in hand.

I told him that I had never considered it.  

He explained that people with chronic anxiety (that’s me!) tend to function on such a high, going level

That eventually they crash.

When they do, he suggested, depression is there waiting—

Not in a menacing, daunting way,

But almost as a place to rest.

I super over-functioned before surgery.

I planned out everything I possibly could and crammed in as much activity as I possibly could and worried about everything I possibly could…

And then bam! Everything stopped.

I crashed.

And depression was there waiting.

 

Joe suggested that this period of depression can be a time to

Recalibrate my energetic output--

To rest and identify what’s truly important to me—

To grow organically—

And then to take slow, small steps back into what feels right.

 

Friends: I don’t wish chronic anxiety and/or depression on anyone.

It’s not very much fun.

But if it’s something you struggle with,

Then I hope you have a therapist, doctor, or a friend who is able to help you reframe it and stop judging yourself.

Before I talked to Joe last week, I was totally judging myself for this bout of depression.

Now, I’m gently naming it and sitting in it with grace.

 

Usually, as Joe and I are saying goodbye,

Joe says, “Take good care.”

Last week, however, he changed his closing statement to say:

“In the meantime, take it as nice and easy as you can.”

 

Friends: Take it as nice and easy as YOU can.

Until next time…