We’re in this together
In my previous post I encouraged you to share a silly thing you did when you felt depressed. Why? To help us remove the stigma around depression and anxiety – no matter if you’ve been diagnosed with a mental health disorder or not. Why do I think it works? I’m a firm believer that sharing stories around vulnerability, darkness and generally shitty times reminds us that we’re not alone. When we all share that we struggle, no one really struggles on their own.
It’s very similar to the rules of comedy improv – when everyone is an idiot in the room, no one is. The definition becomes obsolete when you take it from an isolated individual and apply it to the entire given community.
Here’s the stories that you shared – they made me simultaneously laugh and cry. Thank you for being in this together.
I ate a raw fish.
I started working in a very strict and business minded industry because back then it felt like what was expected of me from family and friends, and it also seemed like the safest road to take (Read: secured job and a high salary) - but it was never what I truly wanted to do, and I guess my mind kinda overruled my heart… Luckily I had the courage to change course and follow my heart instead. I now study Design at an art school. Now just can't help but wonder how many people who actually end up doing what they are expected to do, rather than what they want..
I went for a drive to calm my nerves after a bad incident with a friend. And as I was driving I just felt angry rather then sad. I tried to force tears but they wouldn't budge. So the presence of anger remained in my car. And a lot of my anger is focused around my phone because I hate feeling obligated to text someone back in order to spare their feelings. So I rolled my window down, and was ready to chuck my new $600 iPhone out. But then I realized how stupid I was being and began to punch my steering wheel instead. That got me nowhere.
I re-watched my favorite TED talks. Brene Brown's in particular makes it ok and makes me feel stronger.
I wrote a letter to my pastor telling him I was not worthy to be part of the church (when that, believe me, is what I needed most at the time). He (luckily) reached out to help me instead of responding to my request to leave, and I am still part of the church!
When i feel depressed, I like to sleep over it and see if the feeling goes away. Another thing that really helps is more coffee and chocolates . These two lift me up until i feel like crap again.
I went to talk to a field of cows. To know that they understood everything I said, because the month before my brother went to yell at them (they're tough, they can take it) because he was angry that the doctors diagnosed him with an incurable disease. I'm grateful for the cows’ ability to listen when no one else is available!
I clung on to someone's friendship to the point of pushing them away.
I kicked my shoes off in the street and walked home with just one on, somewhere is my odd shoe.
I got my feet stuck to the paving slabs outside Old Street station. It was directly under the massive billboard on the North East side - David Beckham was lucky enough to be looking down on this whole episode. It was in the midst of a particularly low bout. I had secretly become homeless and was sleeping on floors and sofas, but this one evening, after finishing work, nowhere seemed inviting. Every place I recalled in my mind to go was rejected immediately - like a broken magic 8-ball that was stuck on 'no'. I was stood in the same place for an hour and a half as it got darker and colder, until I realised I had fixed myself into position and something was blocking me from lifting my feet. Psychotic I know, but don't worry - my own messy and stupid logic prevailed in the end. I began laughing at how bizarre this situation was. My feet. Glued to the floor. My legs unable to pick them up. Passers by surely looking at me thinking 'that man is staring at his feet and laughing - he seems jovial, how nice to find fun in simple things...' Little did they know I was stuck in a sort of invisible glue trap, contemplating a cold night being leered at by David Beckham and his fantastic abs. I decided I needed to break this trance. How? I had to fall over. It was the only way I could do it. I readied myself like an olympic swimmer prepped on the starting block and slowly leaned forward. Beckham prepped with starter pistol behind me. I used my weight and fear of rearranging my face on the pavement to instinctively move myself off the spot... and I was off! Away I flew, with the semi skip one does when they kick their own foot and continue walking unperturbed, whilst simultaneously checking around to see if anyone saw you. Down to Old St station and back to a sofa somewhere.
Didn't eat. Didn't sleep. Didn't wash. Didn't love. Didn't try. Didn't live.
Spent hours and hours trawling the web looking at sites, blogs, CVs, LinkedIn profiles of people better, more deserving of happiness and success than me.
I still refuse to sleep on her side of the bed.
I drank a bottle of port and cut off all my hair with the kitchen scissors.
tried to hide how I was feeling.
I went on an all night binge, came in on a beautiful, sunny morning the next day, lay on the floor and cried into the laminate, fluffy-with-dust, for about an hour. My tears made all the fluffy-dust-stuff stick to my face. Then I threw a mug against the wall and felt a bit better. Thing is, it was very unlike me. I'm normally very calm. I think a bit of that calmness was with me all the way through though - I was fairly deliberate in picking the worst mug on the shelf.
Got a 1 star rating (I'm guessing) in an Uber during a dark period of my life. After getting stuck in rush hour traffic I subsequently had an outrageous panic attack, cried to the poor driver to reverse through the traffic and pulled at the locked door handles like a mad man to try and get out in the middle of the Blackwall Tunnel. Poor guy had no idea what was going on. (Thanks for laughing with me at it over the phone months later, Sam.)
I quit my secure day job and started my own business! It was silly because it turned out I was wildly unprepared and fueled more by a desire to flee than a commitment to a new profession. The stress ended up making me very sick and brought me to my knees with my own mental health issues. Ultimately, taking that leap showed me how severe my symptoms can get when I don't take care of myself and have the support team I need to be my best self. Now I have the best care I've ever had and can separate my true identity from my symptoms.
I needed desperately to see a friendly face - to be with someone who would just give me a hug and say it's okay. I was too scared / stupid / silly to call anyone so I wondered for hours and hours around miles of London street because I believed I might bump into someone - so much easier than making a call!
I tried to jump out of a top hinged window that only opened 6 inches or so at the bottom - silly ridiculous attempt at self harm…
I spent years telling everybody i was fine - really okay, you know?
I thought I was taking some kind of moral high ground by refusing medication - time and time again - very silly.
Sniffed my girlfriend’s nail polish until I went dizzy and then fell asleep for a few minutes.
I deleted all of my friends in my phone book who hadn't text me in the last 4 months.
When I was feeling shit, I went and re-read the whole Harry Potter Series in a week, because I felt more at home at Hogwarts and did not want to face my A-levels. My English got better, but I fell through 2 math exams and my chemistry exam. My English teacher was delighted that my excuse for not handing a paper was:"I had to find out what Malfoy was up to. Sorry." My chemistry teacher made me redo the exam informed of the whole class when I tiredly declared that Snape was cooler than him and potion making made much more sense then chemistry.
Oh I've run through my own face of depression. It was a very tough time for me. I wasn't seeking much help and I wish I did. I would have overcome this time so much better. The most silliest thing I did in that phase was bungee jumping from the 37-floor of the Park Inn Hotel at the Alexanderplatz in the central Berlin. The building has a height of 125 meters (410 feet). It was amazing. I was standing on the top for at least 20 minutes and they told me to come back if I don't jump. The instructors were telling me I don't need to do it. But I know it was one thing I had to do for myself. And... I jumped. I was so proud of myself and reassured that this one life is the most precious that we have.
Other silly things I do - randomly give high fives to dogs that I meet. Mostly they have their owners with them and a lot to my surprise are not amused when you not greet them, but the dog with so much love…
I've days where I plug in my headphones and listen to Beyonce. You should see my performance that I give. Can tell you it's better than the original. :) PS: I've performed at home or in the metro... Don't care what people think. Eva, please let your friend Sam know that he's not alone and every day is worth it. Even if that means baby steps.
I made everyone around me miserable because I was, which made me even more miserable and so on… until it was too much for everybody involved and I moved to a different country for a year. That seems to do the trick. Sounds so negative I know but that's just things happen sometimes isn't it?
Ate handfuls of vitamins tablets hoping it might help, I just shat myself... A lot... Keep going Sam sending love.
Spent the last couple of hundred pounds that I had, on a flight to Africa, leaving 4 days later. It was the most impulsive and silliest thing I've ever done. Whilst also being one of the best things I've ever done.
I did not sleep and eat for straight 14 days… Yep, me make me do it.
In 2013, I was living alone, working long and irregular hours in a bar for very little money. I was barely affording rent. My career in film wasn't going particularly well with not a single job for almost a year and no foreseeable outcome. I was drinking a lot, smoking and taking a lot of drugs. I was also in a very negative long-distance relationship which, together with my work and financial situations, threw me into a small bout of depression, anxiety and paranoia (although I don't think it was clinical, more circumstantial). I would struggle to get out of bed most days and rarely socialised, feeling that no one would really care about how I felt. The silly incident I had, was whilst I was walking – quite aimlessly – around the city centre, three people within the space of five minutes asked me for directions. I became paranoid for about a week, that my parents had set it up with a psychologist to test my mental state. I didn't show up for work and refused to pick the phone up to my parents for an entire week. I also didn't leave my room once. Completely ridiculous and kind of funny when I look back on it, but it was pretty bleak at the time. And that's my silly little story that's associated with depression (or whatever it was I was going through, still not sure).
Buying to many shoes to fill the void.
Ate a half-gallon of grasshopper pie ice cream from Mitchell's.
I got pissed drunk in the middle of a workday with the human resources director of the company I worked for. Yes, the very kind of HR director who hires and fires you..
A couple of years ago I’d dated a girl who I met while working in the creative department of a local newspaper. It had been one of those lengthy relationships kept as secret as one can when you're madly in love with your coworker only steps away. After much thought and time I finally worked up the nerve to make the declaration of being in love. But not long after she also made a declaration of her own; she was leaving the newspaper for a new more exciting job. Also, she was leaving me, presumably for a new more exciting boyfriend. I was left shocked, dejected, and for a strange reason completely exhausted. Days, weeks, went by, waking up to the feeling of a giant boulder on top of my chest making it near impossible to rise in the morning. On one of those many long days at the office, the HR director walked up to my desk and informed me that we’d be having an early lunch. Not good, I thought. We drove to a nearby taqueria (that’s a Mexican restaurant) that ironically shares a parking lot with a “love” shop. When we arrived and were seated, I excused myself to the restroom. Upon my return I was surprised to find a Corona and a tall boy tequila shot in front of Mary, the HR director. She slid the cold beer bottle and tequila shot over to my side of the booth and said they’re for you. Shocked I sipped the beer slowly, ignoring the tall shot of tequila. “It’s ok” she said “I want to see you smile, you need a laugh.” Mary had seen me under the influence of the magic elixir of alcohol at previous co. parties. I was all smiles and laughs then… A while after an old man with a harp entered the restaurant and began playing the world’s saddest songs. All bets were off, lots more drinks were had. Tequila burns but feels warm when your insides are cold and hollowed out. Very quickly, I was sharing stories and no longer feeling sad or hurt, I was laughing, really laughing. I must point out she wasn’t drinking. After having taken a two to three hour lunch instead of our company allocated hour we drove back to the office. I couldn’t stop smiling. We had evening meetings and Mary was concerned about the condition I was in. “Ok, get yourself together now and don’t get us fired” she repeated. I only smiled in response. The department I worked in had a small office in the back I used to do work in that required more quiet focus. She would walk me in and tell me to stay and attempt to sober up before the meeting. I wouldn’t have the meeting that day and got a ride back home. Surely someone had noticed the state I was in or the lack of work or email responses. In the days proceeding I was sure I’d receive a request to Mary’s office and officially be terminated. I was never fired. Mary and I became really good friends, we’re both no longer working for that company; not because either of us were let go, I might add. Every so often she still reminds me of that day and that very dumb thing we did; that very dumb thing I really needed.
I smashed up my guitar because I made a mistake. It seemed as though all my mistakes were somehow packaged in to that one single wrong note, as if everything that was wrong in the world, the corruption, the hatred, the anger of the world, was in that misplaced sound. The guitar made a noise I'd never want to produce again. I picked up the pieces, put them in the bin, and cried for hour. The next day I went and bought another guitar and carried on playing.
I look in the mirror and pull a funny face and smile, just thinking about it makes me smile.
Riding home on the subway from my Summer job at Gabriel Toys, as I glanced around, I took notice of the serious and sad faces staring back at me. I was dressed professionally, hair pinned elegantly as I stood waiting at the door for the next stop, my home station, 86th St. As the subway was about to stop, I immediately broke out in song and dance singing Cabaret as I danced off the subway onto the platform in which I immediately stopped. I will never forget the great laughs, smiles of amusement and faces of shock, priceless.
I threw myself on the floor in my kitchen and had a massive tantrum.
I punched a wall, repeatedly, because it was more sociably acceptable than punching a person. Plus I stood a better chance of winning against the wall, as it didn't punch back…
I once got my housemate to call in sick at work so that he could lie next to me in bed and tell me everything was gonna be alright all day long. He did. And then he negotiated to work from home for two weeks, next to me in bed. I never felt more grateful.
I always woke around 3am in midnight and cry so loud my neighbours used to come and ask what happened.. Is everything ok ?
Binge-watched the entire Mad Men series in about a month. It was summer, hot and sunny outside, but I was so down I spent an entire month watching people boozing on TV in my pyjamas. Until I finally was inspired (after having spent around 100 hours on my couch) by Joan Hollaway's look and decided to at last go out and rock and hourglass shaped dress on the street.
Spent long hours in the company of uninteresting and self-involved people. I consumed large amounts of alcohol and drugs, engaging in pointless yet seemingly then urgent conversations with people whom I would never meet again. Exhausted my body and mind, beyond reason. And then I did it again and again.
Stayed in bed for days, mourning a past that never was. I crawled up inside my covers, missing the oxytocin flood of my past delusions. I wrote desperate entreaties to a selfless person which I never sent and took sleeping pills to avoid facing myself or the world outside.
Passed up a great career opportunity, too convinced by the tragedy of my personal circumstances. I gave excuses, called in sick, missed the wonderful dinner party with my friends. I fell asleep in the bathtub but did not shave or brush my teeth for days.
Took my fifteen or sixteen year old self to the bathroom medicine cabinet on a Tylenol-hunting mission (similar to Paracetamol for you EU-folk). I'd been having a rough emotional time and tonight was the night I'd put an end to it all by downing as many as I could find. Unfortunately (or fortunately?) I could only find about 10 or 11 tablets, the effects of which were to fall asleep at 6PM until noon the next day.
I sat on the toilet and insisted that the cat sits on my lap for an hour.
I once cried because someone gave me a mince pie.
Bought a kitten! It bloody worked!
Consumed a million jäger bombs and took my brother to an awful club in Covent Garden and did Rock - e - okie.
Had a five hour bath.
I smashed up a mug someone bought me from the airport on their way home from holiday.
I lit myself on fire and then ran down the street naked...Actually not really, what I really did that was stupid when I felt horrible and my life was falling apart was believe that I was not worthy of being loved, that I was not an amazing human being. I let haters hurt me, I believed them more than I believed myself. It's easy now to see I was wrong, but it's never easy when you are in the thick of things. I might not always feel great, but I always remind myself I'm an awesome friend, father and leader. Peace and Love.
And on that beautiful note. You’re not alone. We’re all idiots. And so no one really is.