Living with the demons
Something a colleague said in the last few days got me thinking - which is never a good thing because there's no telling what will come of it - about the nature of clinical depression and the rest of the family of mental illnesses that are associated with creativity. The association is so strong it's not controversial - the list of musicians, artists, authors and other creative types who spent their whole lives in a running battle with mental illness is enough to fill a book all by itself.
I'm not sure when I started thinking of my personal version of that particular hell as something external to me, and demonic, but it's proved to be a remarkably apt metaphor for depression. When I'm deep in an episode, the depression-induced promptings feel as though they're not me, and given their nature, 'demon' is as apt a description as any.
So, I live with the demons of depression. Mostly they're fairly quiet these days, thanks to the joys of medication and some hard-learned lessons in turning my thoughts away from the old, self-destructive paths. Sometimes they get louder, or something catches me by surprise and I fall into the old habits, but mostly, I'm doing all right.
It's a journey, and perhaps sharing that journey will help other people who struggle with similar issues. For me, perhaps the biggest adjustment was coming to understand at the gut level that I can't trust my own mind. When the demons are in control, it lies. I have been utterly convinced that the best thing I could do for those I loved was to take myself - permanently - out of their lives. That kind of lie.
So... that's the first lesson for life with the demons. They lie. They take your weaknesses and use them to try to convince your world is better if it doesn't include you.
No matter how bad things are, no matter how hopeless they seem, this is not true. Even if you really are the worst person in the world, you can redeem yourself.
I'm not sure when I started thinking of my personal version of that particular hell as something external to me, and demonic, but it's proved to be a remarkably apt metaphor for depression. When I'm deep in an episode, the depression-induced promptings feel as though they're not me, and given their nature, 'demon' is as apt a description as any.
So, I live with the demons of depression. Mostly they're fairly quiet these days, thanks to the joys of medication and some hard-learned lessons in turning my thoughts away from the old, self-destructive paths. Sometimes they get louder, or something catches me by surprise and I fall into the old habits, but mostly, I'm doing all right.
It's a journey, and perhaps sharing that journey will help other people who struggle with similar issues. For me, perhaps the biggest adjustment was coming to understand at the gut level that I can't trust my own mind. When the demons are in control, it lies. I have been utterly convinced that the best thing I could do for those I loved was to take myself - permanently - out of their lives. That kind of lie.
So... that's the first lesson for life with the demons. They lie. They take your weaknesses and use them to try to convince your world is better if it doesn't include you.
No matter how bad things are, no matter how hopeless they seem, this is not true. Even if you really are the worst person in the world, you can redeem yourself.