Dating Depression

Anyone with a mental illness will tell you that to function well requires preventative initiatives as well as treatment. The more I get acquainted with my body, the more I know how to listen to it and what it needs. Depression has been like a sporadic lover most of my adult life—sometimes it's content to be casual acquaintances, watching me live a healthy life. Other times it won't leave my bed. (Keeping me there with it.) Even though the visits are not always pleasant, they have taught me how to listen well to this character, Depression. It's a relationship for sure. And even though I've been on medication (and it's helped immensely) I think I've found a healthy balance of coexistence with my life-long, mental partner. If I'm vigilant enough, I can preventatively treat it kindly while reaping the benefits of the empathy, insight and tenderness that I have found often tag along with Depression. For some reason, being a deeply sensitive and easily depressed person has also meant I feel for others just as deeply—and this is something I don't want to lose. 

So here are a few of the preventative measures I take to keep my relationship with Depression healthy and beneficial. If you do not struggle with depression, this list will just look like things normal adults do every day, but for those of us with depression these small habits do not come naturally. (All of these tactics have slowly been added to a rhythm that started with seeing a therapist—a must for anyone with depression.)

// I floss my teeth at night and wear my retainer religiously. 

// I get up at the same time every day.

// I make my bed. Always.

// I stick to a healthy diet. Limited sugar. Rarely carbs.

// I don't let myself binge past 2 shows online in one sitting. 

// I cap drinking at 2 or 3 glasses. 

// I take a walk most mornings. 

// I free-flow a longhand brain dump into a journal every morning to declutter the thoughts that fuel depressive cycles.

// I pray. This just means I'm in an open awareness of God throughout the day and I feel comfortable chatting about anything. I am aware I'm not alone and I act on that knowledge via communication. 

// I tend to housplants, a garden or the lawn. Whatever is available based on where I'm living. 

// I take advantage of situations were I can teach someone, laugh with someone, make someone laugh, present something to a crowd or guide a group. I have found these to be life giving for me. Your list will probably look different based on your personality and gifts.

// I regularly schedule meetings with people I respect for casual coffee or beer so I can be inspired and encouraged. 

// I run. 

// I go to the movies alone. This helps put my story (or the story my Depression is telling me) in perspective with a broader imagination, and it pulls me out of my context. I go alone because it's harder to be present and meditate on this shift when I'm focusing on someone else. 

The Worst Time to Try the Whole30

I know, I know. Donuts are definitely not on the Whole30. But I thought a new home, a new city, a new school and a cross-country move would be the perfect setting to introduce a highly restrictive diet into my routine. Turns out the body can only take so much. I felt the sludge of my brain moving at an even slower pace and common daily puzzles were stumping me.

Had I received all my textbooks in the mail? Let me count them for the fourth time. 

It also turns out that complex carbs are the sweet, sweet fuel that a student's brain runs on.

Not only was I insecure about my new surroundings and identity, I was depriving my body of nutrients it needed to think clearly. (Trust me, I tried sweet potatoes.) As a creative person, I am naturally insecure and the critic in my head is loud most days—even on the good days. Not having the mental juice to do battle on these worst days was sucking somethin' fierce. My internal voice got louder and I slowly folded in on myself. The extra layer of restriction added an unnecessary link in the chain of change.

Lesson to learn here: be gentle to yourself if you're embarking on change. If your heart is tender and open, your body needs you to go easy on it. And funny enough, your physical brain is tied to your mind which is also tied to your heart. Your human unit is a little package of interlocking rollercoasters, and what goes up must come down on different terrain. What churns physically in your cells and nerves will impact your spirit's courage. So today I will eat bravely. Donut, anyone?

Detroit Visit

This trip didn't turn out the way I had assumed it would.

I came to Detroit on my own dime to interview artists about their lives and creative process. 
First off, when you tell people you're here on vacation they look at you like you've got two heads.
But more importantly, I realized, almost immediately, that although welcoming, the people here are calloused from being documented and talked about. Detroit has become a brand, and the rest of the nation uses it to symbolize street cred. 
But that doesn't really do this city any good. They live here whether or not the name is being exploited. 
They are sick of people trying to save them or tell their story. Pain is only glamorous for so long, and if you're the one hurting it's never a show to you. 
So after my first interview, I decided to put the camera down, stop recording, and just listen. That's what felt right. It was a gift that they let me into their lives for a couple hours. I wanted to honor that. I didn't need to ask to see the blight, or steal a few more photos of their windowless mansions, or scratch down a gritty quote to take home so I look bold. 
I also learned that my life is ridiculously good. I was nicknamed "University Girl" by one of the artists and I think that sums up how gracious they were to let me presume on their time, culture and lifestyle.
Yes, I had an education, and yes, one of the artists I interviewed also had her bachelor's (even master's), but that wasn't the norm, and my definition of working hard and overcoming adversity doesn't begin to compare to theirs. 
The advice I've walked away repeating to myself is that it's ok that life set me up to be naive, but I need to remember what that means: those around me who walked through more fire are always going to have to give me grace. 
As for art, the artists I met told me to wake up early to write, drink lots of coffee, smoke, and bull shit on the phone at least once a day. 
They said they are inspired to keep working by people, by the struggle, and by money. (Sounds familiar.) 
They also told me to find community and find the pain in life. 
For what it's worth, here's my advice for people who are going to do more than just pass through like I did. Move here quietly. Settle in humbly, and then just put your hand to the plow. Keep your yard clean. Know your neighbors. And don't expect anyone to thank you for moving here. 
Detroit doesn't need your help and they don't need their picture taken. 
But they will generously talk with you over coffee and cigarettes, or a fat joint, a pint of beer, or a couple street tacos. 

It's true. Detroit Hustles Harder.