But then depression deepened in intensity and became so recurrent that I felt it was always with me, even if just lurking in the background. After so many years and so much hard work to keep feelings in check, I suppose it was inevitable that the biggest health crisis in my life would be all about emotion.
Feelings normally come and quickly go, but in depression they stop, hang around and take on a life of their own. They turn into endless moods that pervade everything you try to do. True enough, there are types of depression, or phases of it, that make it impossible to feel much of anything - but it’s still all about emotion, whether too much of the wrong kind or none at all.
Those distorted emotions pushed me to my limits - despair and shame, grief for no reason, panic and rage - all took their turns in pulling apart my weakening efforts to keep them in bounds. Even as depression was turning my life upside down, though, my instinct was to deny that it was anything more than a minor problem. I wanted to believe I could limit its impact by shutting it out of my mind.
If my wife pointed out that my behavior was changing or suggested the idea of getting help, I would get angry, deny any problem and refuse to talk about it. My urge to control told me that getting that pain and turmoil out in the open and talking it through would only make things worse. Then I’d be giving in to its reality, its power and really be overwhelmed. If the depression got bad enough that I couldn’t ignore its effects, I’d isolate myself. At least then, I thought, no one else would know what was happening. Of course, everyone did know because I was absent more and more, either literally off by myself or else drifting through days with little ability to relate to anyone.
To begin to recover from depression, I had to learn how to reconnect with my own feelings and let them be, instead of trying to regulate them so tightly. Then I had to admit how powerful a force depression had become and how impossible it was to limit its effect by refusing to think or talk about it. And I had to let myself express more freely what I was going through and work hard with the many kinds of treatment I’ve tried over the years.
To get better, I had to unlearn the habits of a lifetime. I’ve come a long way in doing that and recovering from depression. But the habit hangs on, and when I least expect it my hands will grab and tightly seal that bottle so that nothing can possibly get out.
