Losing Touch
I was first diagnosed with depression when I was sixteen. Another self indulgent teen, right? I had a good life: some nice friends, good marks in school and a loving family. I didn’t live under a tyrannical dictator in a third world country, all my limbs were still attached and Brexit hadn’t happened yet, so what did I have to be depressed about?
This is where biology comes in. Apparently depression is marked by a limited supply of serotonin, the happy chemical, in the brain. This can occur as a result of a traumatic event, taking too many drugs (like MDMA) or it can be inherited, as in my case (although, the MDMA might not have helped). So this was a chemical problem with a chemical solution: antidepressants. And they seemed to work despite some initial resistance: I was lucky.
By the time I had left school, I felt like I had my depression under control, not without the occasional hiccup. This was largely due to my parents’ help, to whom I am eternally grateful. It was at this point that I thought, “okay, this is how a person with moderately normal-functioning neurotransmitters must feel” (which, by the way, seem to be a rare commodity nowadays).
However, I still felt that my experience with depression — which I continued to be treated for with the highest possible dose of antidepressants — had left some pretty big (metaphorical) mental scars. I would often obsess needlessly. I continued to maintain a pessimistic view of both people, situations and life in general. Once again, this would lead to self-hate, self-destruction, jealousy, discontentment, confusion, etc. Feelings that I thought were, in themselves, pretty pathetic and self-indulgent.
To improve this, I decided to try CBT, a therapeutic technique that attempts to turn a negative outlook into a positive one. So I bought a CBT handbook but found it useless. Then I came across ‘The School of Life’ on Youtube. Sounds kind of lame, right? But its great, I highly recommend it. It’s a philosopher called Alain de Botton’s secular response to religion, and it produces beautiful short videos explaining the key ideas of history’s great thinkers. It’s like a concentrated university education, all online, with many beautiful and insightful ideas which can help you think about life in a new and better way.
However, as a result of consuming more and more of this kind of philosophical thought, I became more and more detached from reality, and less interested in people. This went further when I discovered Buddhism. For many white, middle-class, young-adult westerners (of which, I am one), claiming knowledge of Buddhism is a trendy way to advertise that you are ‘open minded’, ‘multicultural’ or simply ‘different’ from your peers. Thus, at first, I was skeptical of committing to it. But, after coming across a brilliant spiritual teacher called Ekhart Tolle on the internet, I started to embrace its teachings (two sidetones: firstly, as an atheist, I don’t like using the word ‘spiritual’ but whatever and secondly, I, by no stretch of the imagination, would consider myself a Buddhist).
However, I tried to adopt the key tenet of Buddhism into my daily life, which is to lose the illusion of time (as our conception of past and future are merely mind-constructs) and simply live in the present moment. It sounded like a good idea to me: living in the present moment, like the old adage: ‘the past is history, the future’s a mystery, but the now is a gift. That is why we call it the present.’ (thank you Kung Fu Panda) or Lao Zhu’s ‘If you are depressed you are living in the past. If you are anxious you are living in the future. If you are at peace you are living in the present.’ This notion has been around for millennia, and is the key to meditation and mindfulness, taking steps toward losing the ego.
As a result, I did feel content and relaxed most of the time (unless someone I cared about was distressed). I didn’t care for the past or the future because they simply didn’t exist for me. In one sense this was good. In another it was not.
I began to live inside my own mind a lot. I cared little for many of the things normal people do to pass the time (when they are not working) like clubbing, getting drunk, getting high, going shopping, playing sport, watching sport, getting a part-time job etc. As time passed I lost more and more of my hold on reality. I stayed in my room reading, working, sleeping or online as the world evolved and changed outside. I was drifting out of touch.
Those around me became more worried than I was about my noticeable changes. I had once aspired to become a film writer-director and had shown some potential, but this drive to create had completely evaporated. I had once been able to run 5k in half an hour, but now my trainers were collecting dust. I had not bothered to turn up to morning lectures the entire year and so received a 2:1 despite having the ability to achieve a 1st. My life was turning into one big chill and I didn’t give a shit.
Then, about a month ago, I decided it was time to kick the antidepressants. I felt strong enough to face life without their help, so I decreased my dose little by little. The discontentment returned. Envy, motivation, anxiety and shame returned. But, paradoxically, this exactly what I needed.
I realised that I need these negative emotions. We all do. We need to feel pain, frustration and disappointment for our successes to be all the more satisfying. Like Roosevelt once said, “Nothing in the world is worth having or worth doing unless it means effort, pain, difficulty.” And I agree with him completely.
Simultaneously, the teachings of the Buddha have stayed with me. I had not forgot that one must lose the ego to determine what is and what is not important, one must not live in the past but learn from the past, and one should not let negativity destroy you but drive you on. Like everything in life, it is ostensibly a matter of balance.
I am back to exercising daily. I have written two short screenplays since decreasing the meds, and am planning to shoot a short film in early August. I am working hard to get ahead with my university work, so that I can secure a 1st in my second year. I know that disappointment and frustration lie ahead, but that is okay. That is life.
But that’s just my story, my opinion. I hope you can find something useful in it.
Author: MilkShakespeare
Originally published at comeasyouareblog.com
Getting Young People Talking
