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A New Season of SAD: Self-Doubt Shows Up

In what seemed like seconds after turning the calendar to November, a wave of depression hit me hard. It dogged me through the weekend and it’s with me now. With it comes feelings of self-doubt.

Mood music:

http://youtu.be/N88YgEKGMzI

Those who know me see me as a confident man, and most of the time I am. I’ve been through enough to know that with the right attitude and will, things ultimately work out.

I’m usually confident about my workmanship and ability to see through the clutter of life. But in this wave of depression, that part of me has gone missing. I find myself doubting my abilities.

In this state, the things I do wrong seem bigger and more pronounced than the things I do right. It can be paralyzing, but I can only allow it to be that way for a short time.

At work and at home, I have a lot of responsibility. I can’t neglect those responsibilities, no matter how hopeless I feel.

So I do what I’ve always done. I show up and take my best swing.

In the big picture, beyond the depression, I know I do more good than not. The depression is usually temporary, and I know that before long, the positives will look bigger than the negatives.

In real life, the positives ARE bigger than the negatives. But for now, I feel like shit.

I need to get back to using my coping tools — playing guitar every day, setting aside time daily for prayer, and seeing a therapist. Yesterday I found a new therapist, so I’m almost back on track there.

The Christmas season is usually when I feel like this. My goal this time is to make that the season where I emerge from the storm, stronger than ever.

After the Storm by William Bradford: Two sailing ships in a stormy sea

“After the Storm” by William Bradford

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So Many Appointments, So Little Sanity

This year’s seasonal depression comes with a twist. It’s not necessarily something new, but it’s something I’m more aware of these days: The calendar is filled with too many appointments.

Mood music:

When you have kids and a busy job, a lot of running around is expected. Lately, though, it seems like running around is all I do. Last week was a pretty good example: A medical appointment for me, two for Duncan (his therapist and new a new psychiatrist), a Scout meeting for each son and the school drop-offs and pick-ups.

It’s all normal, necessary stuff. I have to take care of my health, and we have to take care of our children. The school commute is the result of our choice to put the boys in a new school, and every parent these days is a taxi driver, running kids from one activity to the next. I don’t regret any of it. All the appointments for Duncan have especially been worth it, because we’ve gotten a clearer fix on his challenges and the best remedies.

But with the darkness of the coming winter and the rushing and running that come with the holiday season, each appointment feels like a hot pin prick to the eye.

I long for a week where I can just exist at home once the work day is done. It’s not going to happen, so I have to fall back on my coping tools.

It’s a funny thing about this time of year: I have a huge box of mental tools and know how to use them, but I’m so mentally tired that I have trouble finding the discipline to open the box.

I can’t let that continue, so I’m making a big effort to jolt myself out of the funk.

Last week I started increasing the breathing exercises I’ve learned. When commuting, my habit has been to use the tool of music therapy exclusively, cranking the metal to 11. But I have to add some variety, so I’m trying to do the music for part of the ride and the breathing exercises for the other part.

I’m making a point to play guitar for at least 30 minutes a day.

I’m re-introducing exercise into my regimen. In recent years I haven’t exercised much beyond walking because my food plan kept the weight in check without it. But I changed my eating plan earlier this year because I was getting bored. I didn’t up the exercise to match the increased portions, and as a result I’ve gained 15 pounds. I’ve started jogging laps around the garage, but Erin and I are looking to either buy an elliptical machine or get a gym membership. My new doctor is pushing me toward exercise, too; he isn’t happy with my borderline blood pressure and cholesterol.

Finally, I have a new therapist who is determined to help me build a fresh regimen for using all the tools. Appointments to see her involve 45-minute commutes back and forth, which adds to the overall stress. But she’s good, and I’m betting that the coaching she gives me balances things out.

It’s going to be a long winter. But with some luck, prayer and effort, it’ll be a healing one.

Gremlins

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A Super Analogy About Mental Health and Summer

I’m in the middle of a campout as I write this, and though some of those around me are wilting in the 90-plus degree heat, I have to admit that I’m loving it.

Mood music:

It’s not that I enjoy the sweating and humidity-saturated clothing. What I enjoy is my mental state during long, sunny days. I’m always in better humor, more creative and more in the moment than I am in the dead of winter, when I’m more given to depression. The sun seems to play a role in balancing my brain chemistry for optimal performance. This is often called Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD).

The new Superman movie, Man of Steel, presents an interesting analogy for me. Superman gets his strength from the sun. His Kryptonian cells drink it up and become batteries that propel him to great feats.

I remember one Superman comic book series in which the sun temporarily goes out, and Superman’s powers go out with it. The sun returns, but it takes some time for his powers to come back because his cells require a lot of time to recharge.

In a similar fashion, my optimal mental health doesn’t appear immediately after the clock springs ahead for more daylight. This past year, in fact, some of my most winter-like behavior surfaced mid-spring. But once the sun seeps deep into my brain chemistry, I’m good. Very good.

My goal is to get that state of mind to last longer and longer. That my mood fluctuations got worse in spring may actually be a good sign. Usually they rear their ugly heads in early February. That could mean progress. Or it could just be coincidence. I also admit that some of my spring-time brooding was the result of months-long uncertainty about where my career was headed.

I don’t know what the future will bring. I only know what I’ll be doing to make it as good as I can.

For now, I’m just grateful that we’re in the tight grip of summer.

Man Of Steel