“Your eyes are soft with sorrow
Hey, that’s no way to say goodbye”
“Hey, That’s No Way To Say Goodbye” – Leonard Cohen.
The fog has lifted again. Another bout of depression survived. It wasn’t so bad this time. Maybe six weeks. I’ve had much worse but I’m not complaining. I’ll take bearable any day.
I feel a new sense of freedom. Freedom to engage with the world again, freedom from isolation and the freedom that comes with clarity of thought. I’m free to live my life once more. It’s a welcome feeling and I am most grateful.
I don’t know what I did to get better this time but I know that I didn’t do it on my own. My wife’s continued support amazes me. She tolerates my moods with superhuman understanding and tolerance. I know it is frustrating for her. She has seen me in pain and admits that she doesn’t know what she can do to help. Mostly there is nothing she can do and sometimes I want her to do nothing. Sometimes, just being present is enough.
I was in contact, more than once, with my psychiatrist during this latest episode. We agreed changes to my medication twice. I know that helped but it doesn’t explain everything that led to my improvement.
I’ve been meeting with my psychotherapist weekly recently. The sessions are hard. There is usually tears and grappling with the pain that sits deep in my stomach. It is a physical pain born of emotion and hard to soothe. But usually after these sessions I get some relief, a softening of the knot, an easing of the anguish. It allows me to continue a little longer.
Going to the gym to force myself to get a little exercise was difficult but always followed by a sense of achievement. I went only once or twice a week but I think it was important in my recovery. I am thankful to my personal trainer for his patience in recent weeks. He provided me a much needed distraction from the misery I was experiencing.
But I think that the most important ingredient in my recovery was the simple passage of time. All of the influences I have mentioned played a part but ultimately my bouts of depression are self-limiting. I’m lucky, the worm always turns. If I was granted one wish it would be to travel back in time and remind my suffering self to “Hang in there! It always gets better.” Maybe I should write that on a Post-It and stick it to my bathroom mirror. It is definitely the take-home message of this post.
I was saddened to hear of the passing of Leonard Cohen this week. I have been listening to his music since college and regret that I never saw him live. I have always found consolation in his music particularly at times when I was depressed. His melancholy arrangements have touched me and soothed. I don’t know whether I listen to Leonard Cohen because I am depressed or whether it depresses me further. I believe it is the former. Cohen spoke openly of his struggle with depression in his life and maybe I sense an understanding of my plight in his voice. He has been more than a singer to me, he has been my companion on a difficult journey. I hope he is at rest.
It’s a time to be happy, a time to be content. I have the energy to celebrate my family, my friends and my life. It is a passing phase I know but all the sweeter for that.