Living with depression

Mental health isn’t easy to write about, but it is important, so here’s my take on depression

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When I first started this blog I decided it would only be about cycling; any other topics would be covered in my Idoru Knits blog. However, I’ve changed my mind and I’m going to extend the blog to general fitness and health, including mental health. It’s not easy to talk about mental health, but I believe it is important. So today I’m going to discuss my depression.

A lot of people suffer depression: about 350 million worldwide, according the World Health Organisation. Many of those people will have a mild episode which will be treated – either with talking therapies or antidepressants – and recover, never to suffer the illness again.

There are still days like this, but
they're far fewer than they used to be.

My depression isn’t like that, though. It’s just always there. I’m no longer on antidepressants. I came off them after four years and a course of cognitive behavioural therapy. Coming off them was a big step for me, one that meant a lot. But it didn’t mean that the depression had gone away. Part of dealing with this illness – for me, at least – was accepting that wasn’t ever going to go away.

On a day-to-day basis this doesn’t affect my life massively. There are certain things that I know will bring me down – not eating properly, not getting enough sleep, too much stress – but these are generally things that I would avoid anyway in pursuit of a (mostly) healthy lifestyle. I have to give myself extra time to recharge after a busy period at work and I can’t deal with crowds anymore.

I keep a mental eye on my mood. It’s normal for everyone to feel down sometimes, but I need to be aware of this in case it’s a sign that things are getting bad again. This isn’t just a pointless, navel-gazing exercise – it could save my life. I realise that sounds ridiculously melodramatic, but it is true. I’ve had three separate episodes of feeling suicidal and it’s only the love and support of friends and family (and antidepressants) that have kept me from acting on this.

Sometimes, however, I have bad days. These are days when even getting off the sofa is too much effort. They’re far fewer than they used to be and not as severe. Time was when I couldn’t even get out of bed, never mind make it to the sofa.

There was no way I was going to be able to carry out those plans. Leaving the house or doing actual physical exercise were beyond me

Sunday (17 January) was one such day. I had things planned. I was going to go on a bike ride. First to Wanstead Flats to see a Slavonian Grebe – a rare bird in London that’s been using the Heronry Pond on the flats as its home for the past week or so – then to Stoke Newington for lunch and a trawl of the charity shops.

There was no way I was going to be able to carry out those plans. Even knitting or reading was beyond me, never mind leaving the house or doing actual physical exercise. I hate it when this happens, when this illness stops me doing things I enjoy, things I’ve been looking forward to. But of course feeling like that is counter-productive. It makes me worse, giving the depression a stronger hold on me.

Part of living with depression for me is knowing when to give myself a break. Knowing that it’s OK to lie on the sofa listening to Radio 2 all day, and to not beat myself up when that happens. For me there’s no such thing as beating this illness or even of controlling it. It’s about dealing with it and not letting it beat me.