If you've not had the misfortune to meet this particular phenomenon, I will now introduce you through the medium of a scribble:
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| I drew this on yellow paper to make it japey. |
The Vicious Spiral is a haunting process that, with sinister subtlety, drags a fragile being away from joy. It's unpredictable, and yet feels inevitable. It's obvious and yet insidious.
For the past month my insomnia, a companion for as long as I can remember, has gone on leave and instead I have found myself needing at least 12 hours sleep otherwise I feel like I'm going to keel over and preferably I'd be getting closer to 16 hours of zzz's. And it's not refreshing sleep; if I'm awake I'm wanting to be in bed. It has been disabling. And while what started this new fad shall most likely remain a mystery, it is now a habitual spiraling mess.
Work has meant I've had days when I've hoped a reset button had been pressed and I could be returned to living during daylight hours but the truth is, I'm so fed up and lethargic if I can stay in bed, I do. It's really difficult to dredge up will power when everything feels so difficult, and lethargy makes rational thinking feel impossible, and the sense of failure makes everything seem pointless anyway.Now, to the point of this post (which is not to have a big public me-fest). Have you ever tried to tell normal people - particularly those with demanding jobs and family lives - that you're so very tired and sleeping for more than half the day? If you haven't, let me warn you that the response is not as compassionate as you might hope. 'I have nothing to get me out of bed' and 'I go to bed at 8pm and sleep right through' does not engender too much sympathy, confusion is more likely. (That said, my parents are awesome and my mother can finish the end of my whinging with true empathy and accuracy).
So I'm actually writing this as a plea to those seeking to understand and support their struggling friends. Sometimes the things us depressives find hard will sound preposterous, ungrateful and pathetic. We know. We think so too.
What fuels the spiral is not just the practical pitfalls. It's the shame.
It's the constant voice that whispers that everyone else is coping better with a harder deal and that you must be so useless you can't even deal with the easy lot you've been given. You are convinced that everyone will think less of you, laugh or even get annoyed at you for being so weak.
So you withdraw and hide and tell everyone you're fine because it's embarrassing to admit that it's hard to get out of bed or that you're scared to leave the house. And the spiral takes hold and it's an almighty effort to reverse it.
We all want to be the hero about whom people say things such as 'she's so strong even with all she's up against' or 'he is so together'. We want to be admired for our strength over adversity, and be 'brave'. It's awful to know that with even a relatively light load to carry, you still can't cope. What have I got to be depressed about?
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| Professional nappers. |
My plea to both sufferers and supporters is this; it is easy to be compassionate to people who are struggling in ways you can understand. It is very hard when the struggles seem disproportionate or insignificant. But depression changes the measures and scales, and comparisons between people's lives are distracting.
I guess (because I'm really no expert) that this whole deal is about taking people at their word. If people say they want to support you, tell them what's going on even if you don't know how they can help. If someone tells you they are struggling, listen to their hurt not just the practical details which may seem silly.
And if you are tempted to go back to bed, I recommend getting some nap buddies.
