The worst thing was the morning. It was so hard to get out of bed. On odd occasions where I could have a sleep-in, I would constantly battle with myself on when I should get up. I'd feel guilty if I was still in bed, or I would just feel horrible and anxious once I got up. I would experience that awful racing heart that seemed to make my chest thud so hard I was surprised people couldn't see it pulsing.
If my mobile phone went off, either an SMS or a phone call, I freaked out. Sometimes it would just be a vapid notice from our phone carrier or a random message from a friend. The relief that it was no big deal would be pretty great, but then the anxiety would just begin growing again. I had to build myself just to check my email. And I would only do it once a day. I would congratulate myself each time I did it too. It felt like such an achievement.
The most frustrating part for me was not feeling like myself. I've usually got a few things going at once, and I'm fairly enthused to start the day. Struggling just to get out of bed was horrible. I'm a pretty happy guy most of the time, so to feel so blue was just soul crushing. And to not really know why. Part of me thought I could just snap myself out of it if I fixed the root cause. I did learn not to get so hung up on that as time went on.
This was not my first wrestling match with the black dog. Although, it was more anxiety than depression. I've had down patches ever since I was a teenager. They used to be triggered by falling behind in my homework at high school and/or insomnia. If I had a night without sleep, I knew I had about a week of cloud to fight through. There was a period of time before my mother took her life that I felt like I understood a little of what she went through.
She spent her last few years battling severe depression. Before I was born she'd had a bout so severe that she attempted suicide by jumping off a building. Thankfully she was unsuccessful, or else I wouldn't be here. It seemed that my birth played a big part in her coming out of her depressive state. She managed to keep the black dog away until I was a teenager.
So, I've had my moments with depression and anxiety over the years. I've never had suicidal thoughts, which I'm very grateful for. I'm very lucky to have had Rhona to help me through. I know there are people out there with mental health issues who have partners that don't understand or empathise. As Rhona has her own stress and anxiety problems, she knows exactly what I go through. We're a good team. Usually, when one of us is low, the other is high enough to help prop them up. Even when we're both a little low, we're good at leaning on each other.
I'm very lucky that during my latest period of anxiety, I still enjoyed gigging. If my work had become stressful, that would have been really hard to push through. As it was, just emailing and talking on the phone was a challenge. Socialising with band mates or punters in my breaks was a little touch and go. I did let a few close friends know what I was going through, and their support was wonderful.
Without wanting to jinx myself, I think I'm pretty much through to the other side now. I've been feeling good, and full of a little more get-up-and-go. Particularly in the mornings. Just a little more motivated to get things done.
Rhona encouraged me to visit the psychologist she'd been seeing, and come up with some strategies to help manage my anxiety. One big thing I took away from those sessions was making little 1% changes in life. Just to look at particular aspects of life and seeing if we could make a small change for the better. So I stopped putting as much emphasis on some household chores or errands to be done immediately. I was giving myself permission to leave things until tomorrow or another day. I began to make time to do things that I enjoyed, those activities gave me a little reprieve from the day-to-day stuff. They became very important in helping me move forward.
One analogy Rhona and the psychologist liked to use was that of a jellybean jar. Each interaction, task or moment of the day requires a certain amount of jellybeans depending on how stressful or manageable they are. It's important to remember to fill the jar back up. So, activities you enjoy, or time taken just for you, is crucial in filling up the jellybean jar. Rhona was very conscious that I needed to have filled up my jar before going to out to play a gig or the shops or other social interactions.
January is usually a bad month for me and Rhona, as we don't have a routine to stick to. School's out, and the structure of the usual week is gone. Rhona spent most of last year on long service leave and was experiencing high levels of anxiety due to not having a set routine. To add insult to injury, she was putting pressure on herself to enjoy the leave, which is something she'd been working towards for ten years. Sometimes getting what you want can have its drawbacks.
As the year progressed, Rhona got emotionally stronger and was managing her anxiety attacks quite well. Just in time for me to fall down the hole. I was constantly waking up with a racing heart. Some mornings I seemed to be in a waking loop where I was reliving a situation that was making me anxious over and over again. I would awake slightly panicked and not really be sure what I had dreamt or what was causing the feeling.
Thankfully I never dreaded going to sleep or getting into bed at night. I was usually up late enough to be tired, and I would want to go to sleep. Our bed is super comfy too. Night time was usually when I felt best, mentally speaking. I guess, it was the end of the day, there was little I could do other than enjoy the night and wind down. I think I possibly kept clinging to the idea that I feel better in the morning.
I remained very grateful for Rhona. She would constantly ask how I was feeling and check if I needed to talk anything through. If I had an upcoming gig that was causing me a little stress, she was a wonderful sounding board.
Things progressed slowly, but over time, the cloud started to lift. Constant support from my family and friends was the greatest factor alleviating my stress. The sessions with the psychologist helped me put a few things in perspective as well. Nothing like the reduced rationality when you're in the throes of depression and anxiety!
As I write this blog, I'm feeling a lot better. I'm pretty much back to my old self again, but I'm riding a different wave. It's my manic wave. Everything is awesome, and nothing is happening fast enough for me. Driving seems to be in slow motion as well. I can't get to where I'm going fast enough!
I tend to get a little self-centred too. Or rather, a bit blinkered in what I'm doing or trying to get done. My mind map gets very rigid and some things that come up to challenge this either get ignored or not taken seriously. I can almost feel myself doing it, but I don't fully realise it until after the fact.
I'm happy to be feeling happier. The family has had a couple of challenges to start the year off with, but there's been a fair few wins as well. Hoping that will be a trend that continues to, um, continue.
