Romantic relationships and Depression

It’s no secret that depression can negatively impact a great many relationships, and in my experience, romantic relationships can take a large brunt of the heat. Romantic relationships are built on mutual affection – “if you love and accept me for who I am, then I’ll do the same for you.” But what happens if, instead of not being able to accept your partner, you can’t accept yourself?

This goes without saying, but one of the biggest impacts that depression has on us psychologically is an overarching feeling of self-doubt. It makes us question whether or not we’re smart enough, or generous enough, or, quite simply good enough. As such, it only makes sense that these feelings find a way to interfere in relationships. Those suffering from depression tell themselves: “If I’m not [insert positive adjective here] enough, why should my partner spend any time with me?” Depression makes us question whether or not we’re actually deserving of a romantic relationship. If we can’t love and accept ourselves, how can we ask somebody else to love and accept us?

Then there’s the blow to communication. Ask any couples counselor and they’ll tell you that communication is one of the most important aspects in any relationship. However, communicate is one of the many things people with depression are least inclined to do. Generally, when people are in the depths of depression, the last thing they want to do is talk about it. Psychologically, there’s a plethora of reasons for this, but one of the main reasons is because they’re convinced nobody else will know how they feel. Despite the facts showing that more than 350 million people worldwide suffer from the illness, depression has the uncanny ability to make people believe that their problems and way of looking at things are theirs along to deal with.

As a result, depressive thoughts and emotions are a subject not often brought up, even between partners. This often causes the one in the relationship not suffering from depression to interpret this as keeping secrets, or feeling like they aren’t trusted. Obviously, trust is a major component in any relationship, so for one person to feel like they don’t have it can damage that relationship immensely.

Building off of that, this lack of communication can lead to unneeded drama. If one person in a relationship is not communicating with the other due to depression, the other may decide to take matters in to their own hands. Quite frankly, it’s hard to stay mature and level-headed when it seems your partner has no desire to communicate to you what they’re feeling.

If you’re dating or married to someone with depression, please don’t take any of these actions (or inactions) to heart. Understand that any lack of communication or presumptions is not out of spite for you, but instead a natural part of the mental illness that is clinical depression.

One of my favorite things to say is “understand that you will never fully understand.” Without trying to sound pompous, if you don’t have depression, you will never understand how someone with depression feels. Those who have depression know that fact, and only want for you to acknowledge it too. Even if they don’t show it, people are incredibly appreciative when you make an effort to try and “work with them,” even when you don’t completely understand the way their mind works.

Depression is hard enough on its own – adding another person to the mix can make it even trickier. But this isn’t a reason to avoid relationships. Having another support figure in life who not only loves you, but accepts you and makes an active effort to be compassionate and stick with you to the bitter end can do wonders for a mind suffering from depression. It isn’t easy, I know. But few things in life worth doing ever are.

Stay strong.

– Ryan

I think I’m a mean person, and it’s incredibly discouraging

Hoo, boy, this one’s gonna be a doozy…

I’ve said many times over that I believe in the inherent good of all people, myself included. Regardless of our individual approaches, we’re all working towards some sort of happiness. It’s a whole ‘nother conversation about what methods are “acceptable” and whatnot, but I digress…

Inherently, I’m good, like I believe everyone on this earth is. As I’ve gone through these past few weeks, though, I’ve gotten to wondering: “is my inherent good making me outwardly good?” I’ve had proof the last few weeks to argue against that point. And I hate it. I’m sorry, but I do. There’s no getting around that fact.

I have clinical depression and anxiety, which means my mind and the conclusions it comes to are a bit different from those people who don’t have either illness. Long ago I accepted the fact that these mental illnesses will not only change the way I view myself, but also change the way I view others and their actions and words towards me. I dwell on things, I take things personally, I analyze every little detail of every little action, and, nine times out of 10, I come to bad conclusions. Whether they’re simply flawed in logic or straight-up insane conclusions to jump to, my mind tells me to, regardless.

So, in response to these terrible things my mind is telling me might happen, or in response to things I take personally and then WAY out of proportion, my wonky mind, despite being the reason I reached these conclusions in the first place, tries to pat me on the back and say “Don’t worry, Ryan, I’ll help you deal with this!”

“No!” my logical mind says. “Absolutely not, your ridiculous overthinking and fear-mongering is what got me to this mental state in the first place! I’ll deal with this logically, calmly, and with a level-head.”

Then my emotionally-overridden mind takes over. It pins me to a wall with nails. “I don’t think so, logic. We’re dealing with this MY way. Over-emotionally, overthinking, fearfully dealing with it.” And so it begins.

I’m mean to people.

I snap at them, I ignore them out of spite, I assume every little action is something in spite against me, I try to make my problems their problems, I scowl at them behind their backs, cut and dry, I’m a straight-up jerk to them, all to cope with my own messed-up way of thinking. So, I suppose that makes me selfish, as well. Great.

I won’t hide behind my depression and anxiety for all of this here – maybe this is just part of my personality, as well. I’d like to think not, because before either one of these illnesses manifested itself in me, I was actually a very pleasant person to be around. Regardless, even if I can attribute all of my “meanness” to my depression and anxiety, that isn’t an excuse.

I’m being 100% honest when I say it feels like these illnesses are pinning me against a wall with nails, telling my to deal with personal problems in unsavory ways. There are things I could do to deal with that, but even if there weren’t, what does it matter? I can certainly talk the talk –  I can tell you to be good to others, love yourself, understand you’re only human. But if I can’t walk the walk, what really matters, what good is it? I’ll say you should to be nice to an individual, and maybe the next day I go and snap at someone else for something that isn’t even their fault. I’ll say you should always be accepting of someone regardless of personal differences, but then later on put down someone’s viewpoint simply because it doesn’t line up with my own.

My point is this – I don’t think I’m a nice person. I can spout nice things left and right, and I can passionately believe them in my head and heart, but if I can’t apply what I “passionately believe” to my actions and attitude towards others, what good is it? It isn’t any good, I’ve found.

Maybe I’m inherently good. But I’m not good. I’m not sure I can convince myself otherwise.

– Ryan

 

Some words of encouragement

I want you to know that you’re worth something.

I want you to realize that, whatever problems you may be dealing with, you are never alone.

I want you to understand that people, even those you may not realize or talk to every day, are here for you.

I want you to know that whatever may have happened yesterday, last month, last year, last decade, doesn’t affect how wonderful you can make the future.

I want you to realize that you can overcome anything that comes your way, no matter who or what tells you otherwise, including your own mind.

need you to understand that there are good people in this world, around every corner, who won’t judge you, or abuse you, or put you in a place you have no desire to be in.

need you to understand that you are stronger than any self-deprecating thought that crosses your mind.

I want you to know that I know being strong isn’t easy, but nothing worth doing ever is.

I want you to know that no outside opinion of you matters, only the light you view yourself in.

need you to know that people care. I need you to know that I care. He cares. She cares. They care.

I want you to know that there are people out there who, when they look at you, see the sun.

Stay strong.

– Ryan

13 Reasons Why you should watch 13 Reasons Why (give or take)

So I’ve never done any sort of movie or book review on here (or really in general), but today is going to be the exception. I read a book a while back called 13 Reasons Why by Jay Asher. It was a pretty popular book at the time it came out, always on the teen-young adult bestsellers shelf at Barnes & Noble. The premise is this: A teenage girl by the name of Hannah Baker commits suicide, and upon the act of doing so organizes for seven cassette tapes to be passed around to 13 individuals, all of whom she deems “responsible for her death.” The tapes are her personal explanation of how each person drove her to kill herself, and many people say that these tapes are sort of her “last word” upon dying. The protagonist of the novel, Clay, is one of the people the tapes are passed to. As he works his way through the tapes, trying to figure out what he did to make Hannah commit suicide, he learns her story of abuse and bullying.

The book is now a 13-episode series on Netflix, and the way they portray bullying, depression and suicide is both informative and utterly heartbreaking. Over the course of 13 one-hour episodes, you see Hannah go from being a happy, upbeat, incredibly friendly girl, to a person who has lost faith in the world, and decides that the best way to deal with it is leaving it completely.

The series as it’s portrayed on Netflix is half-drama, half-PSA. While it still has a few funny moments here and there (so you won’t be frowning the whole time), most of the screen time is dedicated to Hannah and her life before death, which revolves around her relationships (both friendly and romantic) and how they break down catastrophically. We see these memories from the viewpoint of Clay, a socially awkward yet lovable teenager with a thing for Hannah, who’s working his own way through the stages of grief, having lost Hannah, and trying to understand how he could have possibly contributed to her death.

The whole thing is presented hauntingly beautifully – the joys of great relationships and people who are there for you, and the heartbreak of when it all comes crashing down, generally unfairly. At the beginning, the viewer barely knows Hannah. They feel for her, as she committed suicide, but not much more. Over the next 13 hours, though, each episode will break your heart a bit more as you see the injustice done to her during her life.

It also attempts to present depression and the warning signs of suicide in a way many people can understand. Even the happiest of people can be brought so low to feel like there’s no way out, and as scary as it is, it’s something people need to realize, before it’s too late.

So, my recommendation? If you have Netflix, go watch it. Heck, even if you don’t have Netflix, shell out 8 bucks for a month subscription to watch this series alone. I swear to you, as someone who watches next to no television, this series is worth your time. Know the signs of depression and suicide before they strike – the world will be better off for it.

– Ryan

Take care of yourself – first.

Growing up, a majority of us are taught to always put others before ourselves. This isn’t a bad thing – this mindset has the tendency to not only teach us compassion, but see it received firsthand. We’re told to treat others the way we want to be treated, and that our experiences with others will go towards shaping ourselves as individuals. In my opinion this is most certainly true – human beings are infinitely shaped by contact with other human beings (among many other things). The intent of putting others first is a great one, as it promotes compassion, acceptance, and patience. But is there a point where this becomes too much?

As crude as it may be to compare human beings to machines, hear me out for a moment: our bodies and minds are much like them. A machine for, let’s say, manufacturing, exists to manufacture goods. As such, it puts all of its energy into pumping out these products, as long as it receives some sort of energy from another source. Electricity, water, wind, etc. These pieces of metal, which are designed specifically to pour their energy into these tasks, still need that energy from somewhere. So, everything else aside, let’s say humans are “compassion machines.” Put aside your personal beliefs for a moment and pretend that humans are specifically meant to pour out compassion unto others. These “compassion machines” put every ounce of their energy into being kind to others, being selfless, being patient, and every other way of “being good” to others. However, if they don’t receive energy from elsewhere, as an actual machine does, it crashes and burns. It overheats, it smokes, it starts sleeping all day, it might start throwing back a few beers each night to help it forget…not only are humans much more complicated than machines, humans deal with their problems in many different ways than machines.

Being good to others is good. It’s great, it’s fantastic, it’s what we should all strive for each and every day we’re on this earth. But in order to do this effectively, we need to step back and realize that we aren’t some sort of “infinite-power” machine. We need rest and recuperation, we need to hit the power button at the end of the night. Plug in and recharge, however you feel it best to do that (it goes without saying that there are healthy and unhealthy ways of recharging, but that’s a different subject entirely).

Here’s the part that will make me sound selfish: make sure you’re happy before you start making sure others are happy. Again, I can’t stress enough how important I believe it is to be selfless and compassionate – but only where it’s reasonable. As admirable as it is to throw all of your energy into being good to others, if you don’t have any energy left to make sure you’re happy, it’s a lose-lose situation: you’re burnt out because you spend all your time on others’ wants and desires, and the people you’re trying so desperately to make happy often notice your weariness, and this could have the exact opposite effect of what you intended.

I’m not telling you to cut in line, eat the last cookie, or lie to your parents to get out of trouble. I’m not telling you to be selfish. I’m just telling you that you don’t always have to be selfless. We are all equals in this world – no one person deserves to feel more or less happy than another – and that includes you.

Being selfish is rude, hurtful, and discouraging, but always being selfless is simply unhealthy.

Stay strong

– Ryan

A Perverse Jealousy

Jealousy is such a powerful emotion. Whether talking about it in the sense of the Christian faith or not, it isn’t hard to see why it’s considered a sin. Personally, in times where I find myself jealous, it overtakes me in a way very few other emotions do. It clouds my judgement – I find my decision-making revolving around what I can do to achieve that goal that I’m envious of. There’s a fine line between jealousy and determination, and for me that gap is bridged when I find myself having negative feelings towards others who have achieved that goal. If I ever find myself thinking lesser of a person because they have something I do not, that’s my cue to take a step back and look at the situation from a level head.

Not that that’s always easy. In fact, it rarely is – it takes such dedication to this way of thinking that a whole form of therapy has risen up around it (mindfulness). It’s made especially hard on the occasions where the person you’re jealous of brings up their achievement or property like it’s nothing. “You bring this up so nonchalantly, but do you realize what I would do to have what you have? Achieve what you’ve achieved? Do you even realize how much of a standard I hold myself to based on what you have?”

Like so many other facets of life, for some reasons our brains often tell us that it’s easier to get bitter over these things, than it is to simply be grateful for another’s accomplishments. Scowl over smile, bitterness over contentment. It’s hard to pinpoint why this is, but there are a thousand different answers from a thousand different cultures, religions, and psychologists. Perhaps it stems from the competitive mindset of first-world countries, or maybe when Adam and Eve bit into the apple of knowledge, human sin came pre-packaged with jealousy.

I could go into the whole “this isn’t the right way to think,” and “comparison with others only leads to bad things” tangent, but I already have in some of my past posts. Make no mistake, I still very much believe in what I’ve said on that topic: comparison does only lead to destructive habits. To be the best us we can be, we needn’t hold ourselves to the standards of others. But I can talk and talk about why this isn’t the healthiest way of thinking, spouting factoids and studies supporting this hypothesis, but the fact of the matter is this: factoids and studies very rarely help us actually deal with these things. Comparison. Jealousy. Bitterness. Whilst it’s certainly important to understand why these feelings come about, in my opinion (and it’s just that), the world would be a better place if we actually focused on how to deal with these problems as opposed to just explaining their origins.

I’ve found myself getting overly jealous and bitter the past couple of weeks. I find myself around this entirely pleasant, enjoyable person, who has nothing but kind things to say to me. nine times out of 10, I find myself being pleasant back, but recently my depression has begun to take over and, instead of exchanging pleasantries both ways, the kindness seems to become one-sided. This individual will be kind to me, and I’m indifferent towards them. I’m passive-aggressively resentful, bitter, and simply angry. All of those negative emotions, simply because my mind tells me it’s somehow easier to resent this perfectly nice person for what they have, rather than be happy for them and realize everybody has different things at different times, as is life.

As I mentioned before, this jealousy overtakes me. I find my mind so occupied with this incredibly useless emotion that it’s difficult for me to think about much else. I’ve heard of some individuals using jealousy as a type of drive – motivation to get to a better place in their lives where they’re more content. As I feel jealousy coursing its way through me, however, I find it incredibly hard to think that some people could use this to motivate them, because for me it causes nothing but destructive thinking habits. Where one person may say, “I want what that person has, so I’m going to use this jealousy of them to push myself harder,” I generally say, “I want what that person has, but I’m not skilled or charming or innovative enough, otherwise I would have it by now.” You don’t need to tell me there are about 17 logical inconsistencies with this way of thinking – believe me, I know. But depression often overrides logic.

So, for those like me, where jealousy doesn’t motivate you, but instead breaks you, what do you do? What is the best way to deal with this poisonous mindset? Simply put, I don’t know. I practice mindfulness, and that helps to an extent, but I’m by no means a master at the craft – it takes months upon months of practice and dedication (it makes sense, though, you’re literally training your brain to subscribe to an entirely new way of thinking). For what good it does, there is one thing in particular I’ve been trying to tell myself in moments of jealousy:

Each and every person is unique. No two people accomplish the same things at the same time in the same way under the same circumstances. We all have different walks through life, regardless of how similar our circumstances may seem at first glance. In fact, I’m willing to bet someone in your own life is looking at you and saying “I wish I had that,” just as you may be with others. Do not take pride in this, but instead use it as a reminder that nobody is ever perfectly content with life – we all fall prey to wishing we have more than we already do. You aren’t alone in this.

How do you deal with jealousy? Do you have certain coping methods that help pull you through? I’d love to hear what you have to say, so comment or shoot me an email and I’d love to converse with you! All the best to you in whatever struggles you may face.

Stay strong.

  • Ryan

Depression and Friendship

“It’s hard to be a friend to someone who is depressed, but it is one of the kindest, noblest, and best things you will ever do.” – Stephen Fry

There’s something to be said about being an introverted, depressed, overly-anxious individual, but still having those friends who can relate so intensely with your struggles. When you have a brain that works every day to convince itself it’s so messed up, so incredibly beyond repair, having friends who can still talk you back from the brink seems like a miracle of nature.

I bring this up for a reason. It’s easy for me to say “I’ve had a bad past few days,” and then go into details about why woe is me. But the truth is, my past few days really haven’t been terrible at all – it’s just my mind that’s trying to tell me that. Objectively, I haven’t experienced any terrible days at work, nobody has been particularly cruel or indifferent towards me…this week has been alright. But again, objectively.

Depression, which has the unfortunate ability to turn spilled milk into a flood, will over-analyze every little part of the few “bad” parts of my day, and stretch them out to last for far longer than they should. Something happened during the morning that has put me in a bad way? You can bet I’ll be dwelling on it most of the day, regardless of whether that thing is over and done with or not. As such, despite having an okay week by most peoples’ standards, my mind is telling me to be depressed.

So, my mind is in tumble-dry mode, flipping things over again and again, making sure every speck of every slightly upsetting situation has been thoroughly analyzed (and then some). There seem to be very few things that can get my mind out of this cycle, but as I’ve been reminded the past few days, good friends are one of them.

For the longest time, I was so convinced that “talking it out” was a cheesy, unhelpful way of getting through tough times. I can spill my problems to you, sure, but you don’t understand the way my mind works. I can’t just “explain” to you the way my mind goes from Point A to Point B, because there isn’t any logic behind it. It just happens. If you can’t understand where I’m coming from with these internal struggles, how can you possibly help me overcome them?

Over time, I’ve realized that there were two big flaws with this way of thinking. First, there are people who feel the way I do. No matter how I may feel on crappy days, there are millions, I repeat, millions of others out there who suffer from this depressive thinking each day, just like I do. Unfortunately, depression isn’t a rare diagnosis: over 350 million people suffer from it worldwide, I’m just one in 7 zeroes. These numbers don’t make my (or your) struggles any less real or undeserving of acknowledgement, it just shows that there are others who have minds that work incredibly similar to mine (and yours).

Second, understanding isn’t necessary for compassion towards others. The person I consider my best friend doesn’t suffer from depression. She isn’t overly anxious or prone to self-deprecation, she is, in a mental way, unhindered. But she gets me. She can calm me down and talk me out of my harmful mindsets better than almost anybody else I know. She understands that she will never be able to fully understand me, and that’s a helpful observation for the both of us. She knows that she won’t understand why my mind tells me the things it does, and I know that, despite my inability to be oftentimes understood, there are people out there who make an attempt to be good to me anyway. Simply put, it’s a blessing.

At the risk of getting all Disney-esque here, friendships were something I often took for granted in the past. I told myself that everyone has friends, it’s just a common thing. Even when I finish high school and college, I’ll still have friends, so there’s no need to particularly cherish them right now. But as my depression manifested and left me mentally secluded, I had friends who tried to help me, to break down the walls of my depression-addled mind and understand me to the best of their ability. By the time I realized this fact, I was too late. Many of the friends who tried to be friends to me simply gave up, because I wasn’t reciprocating. I was going through the motions of a bare-minimum friendship, but I wasn’t particularly working to keep it enjoyable. I lost so many friends as a result.

But I’m older now, hopefully wiser (or as wise as a 23-year old can be), and I understand more about my mental illnesses, and I’m grateful to live in an era where light is being shed on mental illnesses more so than the past. Despite my depression, friendship is still a two-way street. If I have friends who are willing to look past my mental health and accept and even cherish me for who I am, then the very least I can do is be there for them as they are for me. Mental illnesses or not, we all have problems. The world is a better place when we are there for each other, even when understanding evades us.

So, on this particular subject, I’m a convert. I like talking with friends. It does wonders for me – it gives me a chance to temporarily drown out the hurtful voices in my own head, and even later on, those voices are a little less convincing. Whether it’s having a meaningful, one-on-one conversation with a co-worker about something serious, or sharing some laughs over breakfast with wonderful people as I did this morning, compassion in the face of adversity is a force to be reckoned with.

Humans are, by nature, social creatures. We need food, water and shelter to survive, but we need interaction with others to live. We aren’t meant to carry our burdens alone. There’s a reason solitary confinement is for the nastiest of prison inmates – seclusion cripples us. Depression or no, we need others, and others need us.

Stay strong.

  • Ryan