It’s not something I generally write about. Do you know why? Because I’m generally depressed and not recovering from depression. My bipolar disorder is characterized by depression with mixed moods. And this characterization has been in place for years. Years and years of trying to get better. Years and years of failing to get better. It’s tragic. They are days of suffering interspersed with sleepless nights. Definitely not recommended. But the thing about all of this is that I’m in a unique position to observe every minute detail of what recovery from depression is like. If everything is black and gray for extended periods, you’re bound to notice even the tiniest semblance of light. And while we’re all different, here’s what recovering from depression looks like for me.
What is depression like?
In 1776, Dr. Samuel Johnson, its creator English Dictionary, first used the term “black dog” to describe melancholy and depression. He was believed to be suffering from major depressive disorder. It is appropriate to think of being constantly followed by a huge, terrifying, deadly, inky black being when you are depressed. Depression is like a life-extinguishing force that you can’t escape no matter what you do. But this is only the beginning of depression.
Depression varies from person to person, but the clinical definition includes (according to Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition [DSM-5]):
(You must have at least five of the above symptoms during the same two-week period, and at least one of the symptoms must be decreased interest/pleasure or depressed mood to meet the criteria for major depression. There are a few other caveats you can see here.)
But more than all that, depression is always seeing and feeling the negative and the inability to see and feel the positive. It’s about any little stimulus – good or bad – that makes you feel worse. It’s about missed opportunities, isolation, feigns of well-being, staying in the psych ward, lack of understanding from others, repeated drug trials, and not responding to what and who you know you are. Depression is endless suffering.
Depression is like destroying your soul.
What is depression recovery like?
The first unique thing I felt was a change in my brain. I know it sounds weird. But my brain was 100% depression before, and then I found out that a small percentage was something else. Depression still took up most of the space, but I knew something else was there too. It was hard to figure out what the “other” actually was.
Depression recovery is a slow process, but you can notice it through tiny little flashes or something other than discomfort. Lack of suffering—not happiness—was the next thing that struck me. It was really weird. I found that everyday experiences hurt less. For example, I’ve said before that seeing happy people actually makes me feel worse. A couple in love holding hands could make me cry. Well, suddenly, seeing happy people didn’t make me feel bad. I didn’t feel it at all. This was huge progress. (You can’t imagine how horrible it feels to see happy people feeling sad. It makes you feel like an alien, among other things.)
Then I started to feel myself actually smiling. I’ve written before about how fake smiles are a bipolar coping skill. Being able to replace an expression painted on my face with a genuine smile was sometimes a relief beyond imagination. Seeing something and invokes a real honest to goodness smile, felt like heaven. A true smile didn’t always appear, but slowly it did.
At the same time, I noticed my breath. I felt like breathing was easier. Each breath was less laborious. Not forcing myself to breathe against my will was a relaxation and relief I didn’t know I needed.
(You’ll note that happiness hasn’t appeared yet. Depression recovery doesn’t require that. There are many parts of depression that don’t include the ability to feel happiness.)
I also noticed that the food tasted better. When you can’t feel pleasure, everything—even food—exists in a gray underworld. Depression recovery is like adding spice to everything. Unfortunately, this makes me want to eat more, but I’ll take it since I can actually enjoy it while I’m doing it.
It is now that my real feelings started to feel more positive. I would call it quiet comfort. I would call it more of a balance. I would call it humane. It is as if the black dog had become much, much smaller. He was starting to look kind of cute, actually.
I think at some point happiness will be known. It’s not here yet, but it’s likely to get here.
The warning in depression recovery
I would like to mention that my depression is not gone now. There are still many lingering symptoms of depression in my daily life. That being said, the part of my brain occupied by my depression is much, much smaller now. Maybe it’s even 50%.
This is a miracle.
Depression recovery
As I said, I have been experiencing the horrible state of depression for a long time. Depression recovery seems very strange to me. It feels wrong. Depression, I can predict. I know what it will do to my day. Depression recovery, I can’t. The feelings of depression recovery are, to say the least, unexpected. Every time a new depression-free experience comes along, it’s a surprise. It’s like I’m rediscovering myself. I want to sit back and enjoy it. Just watch what my brain does next. I want to be still and just stare at the wonder.
I feel fear with depression recovery
Here’s the thing about recovery from depression, especially after an extremely prolonged period of suffering, there’s a fear that it will go away. After all, my brain isn’t used to it. What if it comes back? What if the drug stops working? What if I develop a tolerance? Pain is soul-crushing, yes, but seeing the light of wellness and having it taken away from you is even worse. I feel desperate not to do anything “wrong” and disrupt the miracle.
Fear of recovering from depression when you have bipolar disorder
And, in fact, bipolar disorder makes the fear of recovering from depression even worse. That’s because those of us who have been doing this for a long time know: wellness isn’t wellness when it just leads to hypomania, mixed moods, or worse. When I feel something positive, I’m scared that what I’m really feeling is the beginning of a bipolar episode, not well-being. Finding this out would be extremely painful. It’s the kind of pain that drives people to suicide.
I feel like my depression is getting better – I’m going to enjoy it
But while I acknowledge the fear and know it’s real, I’m going to try to put it aside and just enjoy the lack of discomfort for a while. I am a person who analyzes her mood every day as a coping mechanism. It kept me alive, gave me insight and allowed me to have a career. But I plan on taking mini breaks from it. I’m not going to give it up entirely — I think that would be a mistake, as it could lead to me losing track of an episode as the mood develops. However, I think giving my brain mini-breaks from the endless work it has been doing for years is the right thing to do. Holy moly, he’s earned it.
And I will consciously experience the positives of my recovery from depression. Instead of trying to ignore all my feelings because of pain, I will look at them, acknowledge them, and notice how they do not cause suffering. I’m going to taste the difference in food. I will see the difference at sunrise. I will hear the difference in the music. I’ll just stand still and appreciate how I don’t have to run away from the black dog while doing it.
What does recovery from depression mean to you?
Do you agree with any of what I’m saying? What is recovery from depression like for you? What do you notice first?
