If I can catch it just right, sometimes I can snap out of depression by noticing I’m headed in, and stopping the thoughts that lead me down.
If I’ve tried this technique a few times, and I’m still falling in, I still try to avoid the labelling keybo spoke of, but it often is impossible.
Then I tend to dig my hole deep and fast. I beat myself up in any way possible, and I also start attacking my support people. I try to stop all these things, of course, but depression has a way of forcing me into a back seat, while it takes over and has be do things I know are bad for me, but, because I feel so bad, seem right.
At this point, I tend to give in, and then I start thinking it’ll last forever, and I start thinking about what it would be like to die in various ways. Ok, now it gets weird. By visualizing and carefully imagining each microsecond of my killing myself, I start to find the whole thing very funny. Sometimes I’ll call my depression buddy (who is really a very good friend), and we can talk about anything, including the gory details of our darkest thoughts, and somehow, we manage to make each other laugh, even at our worst. That’s always good, and usually helps me start to make my way up, at least a bit.
I go to my group, too. I write here, and elsewhere, usually with a question like this one. Sometimes I freak and think that people will get really tired of hearing me talk about how down I am one more time. But writing about how I feel, and really trying to explain it so any idiot (read the non-depressed) can understand. I think of my parents when I do this. They are the quintessential clueless when it comes to mental health issues like depression. Maybe some day I’ll even show them some of my descriptions, but that’s another story.
People here tend to be very nice, and tell me they care. I don’t believe them, but still, it’s nice to hear.
Usually, after a few days (or weeks… or months) I come back up.
Oh. More things. I play my instruments—that makes me forget for as long as I play. Making love helps a lot. But can only keep me out of it for maybe half a day. I help people (at my job) and if I throw myself into that, I forget I’m down.
Unfortunately, thinking about it pulls me in, and at the moment, I’m feeling that tug. I don’t know what it is or how it got so powerful. I’m going to stop now. Take a deep breath. Go see my wife. Maybe I’ll be better in the morning.