Depression as a hole
I just got back from my therapist, who gave me an analogy for depression that I kind of like.
Depression is a hole.
When you start digging a hole, you can see into the distance. You can see the trees and plants around you, the horizon.
But as you get deeper, you can see less and less. At first, maybe you lose a bit of the horizon. Then, some of the tree-trunks; you can only see the tops of the trees.
The deeper you dig, the more your vision is limited. Until, at last, all you can see is the hole surrounding you, and the sky above you. And you’re not quite sure how to get out.
You might be able to intellectually imagine what is outside of the hole. People can tell you what is outside of the hole. But you can’t actually see it for yourself.
So how do you get out?
Time is often a good help, said my therapist, but antidepressants (like the ones I’m now just over a week into) can help, too. And slowly, the things you weren’t able to see will come back into your field of vision.
Until (hopefully) you’re completely out of the hole.
Themocracy
That reminds me of a paragraph from one of my favorite books:
My mind is like the valley — this vast barren waste. Car lots. Malls. Tract homes. I know there are other worlds beyond it — of canyons full of coyote and monarch butterflies, squirrels, bunnies, purple and yellow wildflowers, of magical boulevards lined with palatial movie theaters and movie-star haunted mansions, of parks and palms and palisades, especially, especially the ocean, where it all ends and everything begins. I know the rest is out there but from where I sit in my head it’s like being at the bottom of a hot sunken pit — you can’t see anything else around you no matter how hard you try.
-Wasteland, Francesca Lia Block
That’s really beautiful. I’ll have to check the book out.
I prefer to call it falling down and then sitting at the bottom of a well, described being diagnosed with Dysthymia and at wsrliving.blogspot.com/2007/05/living-with-dysthymia.html. Thanks for sharing. I wish you the best.
Thanks for stopping by, Scott. That’s a good analogy, too, and I appreciate you sharing a link to your own experiences.