Today is, by every objective measure, a good day. I was privileged to speak via the Internet with a group of college students across the country about leadership qualities, and even though I was mostly terrified (talking to young people makes me feel old faster than anything else), I thought I mostly did not suck.
After I finished that, I did some work around the house, enjoyed the company of my family, wrote a brief blog, drew a dumb cartoon, and then went to Geek & Sundry to give notes on some Tabletop edits.
Soon, I’m going to attend a special screening of Tabletop for a few very special people who helped fund this season of the show, and our upcoming RPG spinoff.
I have a great life, and this has been a great day … but without warning or reason, the gloom and sadness and despair of Depression wrapped its claws around my chest this afternoon, and has been squeezing me and attempting to pull me to the ground ever since.
Objectively and rationally, I know that this is due to a chemical condition in my brain, and I know that this feeling will pass. I also know that depression lies, and I have enough experience doing cognitive behavioral therapy to sort of ninja the worst of it away (something I’d never be able to do without my meds and doctors; it’s not possible to wish Depression away), but I still feel anxious and irritable and impatient and annoyed and frustrated and tired and sad and even a little hopeless.
I know why this is happening. I know how this is happening. I know that it will leave as suddenly and unexpectedly as it arrived.
Knowing all of these things doesn’t make the way it makes me feel any less real or intense.
Knowing that I have Depression, but Depression doesn’t have me helps me get through it, though.
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Thank you so much for sharing this–the more people talk about depression, the more hope I have that some day all of us who struggle with it will be more accepted as suffers from actual disease. (tl;dr: fuck depression!)
Thanks also for sharing Non-Judgemental Ninja; we all need a little more of that in our lives!
In my experience, just being able to stop and say, “I know this feeling. Depression causes this feeling.” helps a lot. Hang in there! It will get better, and you want to be here when it does.
Sports, baby.
I won’t call it the cure. I’ll call it the amelioration.
I’ve heard depression is the flip side of intense creativity. The one may be the Faustian penalty for the other. Dunno. I’m no scientist.
So, when depression descends, it’s time to do some hard ass labor. Not walking. A real hard sweat. And if wind and rain and snow can get involved, so much the better. A hard, ugly, run. Weight lifting. Or your favorite ball throwing, hitting, kicking sport. Also, biking, skateboarding, roller skating.
But it’s gotta hurt.
I found a good hard run, cycling, roller skating along the beaches of LA , especially under a full moon always, always, always did the trick. Didn’t solve all of life’s problems nor banish depression. But it always gave it a swift kick in the nuts.
Depression can’t be defeated. Ever. It’s possible that doing so would have even more deleterious effects, says the Internet non-scientist named after a doughnut. You just have to keep it weak, though.
So, sports.
Cheaper than meds, always available, amazingly effective.
It’s nature’s candy! Or something.
You’re quite right – exercise does help.
But…
The unfortunate aspect is that, when depressed, sports, running or anything remotely active is the last thing I feel motivated to do. (Getting out of bed is a more realistic goal).
It’s like it knows exercising will help, so ensures you really won’t feel like it.
Depression does have a voice.
And it does not approve of exercise. My depression usually tells me that I am literally insane to exercise, and doubly so in rain, cold, heat, snow, wind, night, day, or sneakers. It usually tells me that death by car or mugger or puma resides outside of my door. It rides on my shoulder when I go out anyway. It’s mouthy and shrill, but usually shuts up after a bit.
Exercise weakens depression. Mine anyway.
One thing I always find when I go out in the elements (and not just to a gym) is that it’s NEVER as bad as I thought. Usually, it’s even amazing. A pleasant surprise. For me anyway, the going outside part is crucial. I don’t get nearly the same beneficial results exercising inside. The weather triggers a defensive response that seems to sideline depression immediately. Like my mind simply cannot afford to support depression, as it’s too busy handling other things.
I’ve always felt that indoors is such a stew of mysterious and harmful chemicals that they can’t be doing any of us any good. Out of doors is no pristine paradise, but generally an upgrade in my experience.
Luci,
A couple of points regarding outdoor exercise:
1) All folk singers are REQUIRED to take it.
2) Stay out of crevasses.
http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=NIfl2o44zb0
I only found this blog a few weeks ago and already it has influenced my life to the better in a number of ways.
That can mean two things: a) my life totally sucked or b) you are awesome, Wil Wheaton. By logical deduction, I can eliminate a), which leaves b).
So there you go Wil: b).
That doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with this particular post of yours, but I thought you should know anyway and maybe it makes you feel a bit better.
thank you for sharing this; I hope it gets better soon….
Thank you Mr. Wheaton.
This was very brave and a very important thing to say.
I’ve been reading your blog for a few months. I don’t care about a lot of things you care about, but I like that you care about them.
And, yeah, I started because of your ST BG, but that was years ago.
I promise I will never come up to you at a convention.
I did link to this post, I’ve quoted a couple of paragraphs, but I attributed them to you.
You seem to be a very fine person.
Every time I read the title of your blog post “Depression Lies” my brain adds “in wait” to the end of it. Seems appropriate today.
Hope you recover soon.
To reiterate what many have said thank you for sharing this. It takes guts for someone to open themselves up so publicly about something so private, though really we need to as a society get past that. If you had a head cold you or I or anyone wouldn’t think twice about posting “Woke up feeling lousy going to go drink some Nyquil and hit the hay” Why should Depression be any different? It is a disease and we shouldn’t be afraid or self-conscious of admitting that we are getting hit with it.
I know when I read your post I was in the midst of Depressive state myself. Out of the blue I just sank. It’s hard when you have three kids who need and want your attention and a life and etc etc etc and all you want to do is curl up and hide. And from the outside there is NO reason you shouldn’t be happy and grateful. Logically you know this. And yet shrug you can’t shake it.
It’s been better over the last few days but like gum on the bottom of your shoe it’s hard to COMPLETELY get off. So every day I’m feeling the residue. It’s a tough road. I agree meds AND and understanding of the disease is helpful. I’m contemplating starting the meds portion of that regime again. I live in an area of the country where the seasons REALLY also take a stab at your mood as well so that ALSO doesn’t help.
At any rate, you are one awesome individual, and don’t let anyone else tell ya otherwise I saw one poster say that the motto is “USUALLY don’t read the comments but here is the exception” I’d say from what I’ve seen that’s true. Seems to me you’ve got a lot of support out there. 🙂
Keep up the awesome work. Stay strong and (try if you can cause Depression sucks and lies and fights you) to speak out and demand the help you deserve if you get struck down again.
Take care.
Thanks, Wil. Every time you post an entry like this, it makes me feel less alone in my depression and gives me perspective.
I’m sorry to hear of your bad day, Depression just sucks. I noticed my mood dropping some this afternoon, which I suspect is due to the rain headed my way in the San Diego area. Hope you feel better tomorrow and that those claws have loosened their grip. In the meantime, yeah, Depression just sucks and not in a good way.
The more I learn about you and your work, the more I respect you, sir. I see a brave, stalwart, honorable, fun(ny), and down-to-earth guy.
This post simultaneously broke my heart for you, and gave me hope. I love that you can speak so eloquently and honestly about such a difficult topic, but hate that someone as awesome as you has to deal with this. The fact that you DO deal with it, share it, and overcome it, is incredible.
I won’t burden you with my stories, but know that there are people who have read this and empathize with you. Maybe even shed a tear or two…. For every person who has commented here, I’m sure there are at least 3 more who agree, even though they don’t comment.
You are amazing, Mr. Wheaton. “You’re ok.”
Thanks, Wil.
Slightly off topic comment here, but would you be willing to share more about the talk you gave on leadership qualities? I’m that random guy who e-mailed you a while back about how I used you as an example case in one of my graduate classes on leadership. I’d love to know more about what you shared with these students.
Hope you’ll get better soon Mr. Wheaton. You’re awesome. You’re doing such a good work to make so many people feeling good and having a good time. Bless you. All good wishes from Germany.
Been there, many times over many years. If you haven’t read it already, The Zen Path Through Depression by Phillip Martin has literally saved my life a few times. Thanks for posting this and reminding all of us that depression doesn’t care how good your life is. Hang in there.
Yes, depression lies. So does the therapy. Sometimes you need to let the depression talk.
I’ve been through the depression cycle a few times, and found therapy a big help. They probably used a bit of CBT, but subtly rather than homework. (I tend to over-do homework, or fail at it and feel worse.)
This time, though, I wanted to try something else. I had no confidence that therapy would be enough. So, after working with my doctor and her counselor, I finally saw a psychiatrist.
ADHD. Yep, no question, I have it. (No surprise. Probably since high school, but these days much worse.) He also sprung OCPD on me. (Note the P. OCPD is controlling, type A, taken to an extreme. Felt very familiar, esp from a family of high-achieving ADHDers. You have to use the calendar and lists, and it really is faster to do yourself than teach, especially if you’re still learning yourself (and ADHDers prefer jobs where they have to learn)).
He also ruled out depression.
Why?
Because the therapy answered the questionnaire. No, I don’t think I’m worthless. That’s just the depression talking. I don’t feel guilty. I wouldn’t feel that way about someone else who struggled the way I do. No, I don’t feel hopeless. Of course not, I’m finally to someone who can help!
And after years of this, the “compared to usual” questions came back, “same as usual”.
Needless to say, the ADHD meds didn’t work as well as I’d hoped. I felt worse while on them. (Should really give it a longer try, build up to a larger dose. Notice the “should”?)
A month later, my counselor and I agree I’m depressed.
I see the psychiatrist again today. And I called my old private therapist, who saw me more often and had more time to listen and travel the journey with me. I wish I’d called her last year, before the current cycle got this deep.
Lessons learned: (Yes, deep down I’m an optimist, and believe I can learn lessons and do better next time. But it’s all my fault if it doesn’t work.)
Ask who should answer the questions. My feelings or my brain. My depression or my therapy. (No, don’t say “I” should answer. I’m too busy trying to figure out which voice is wisest.)
Ask what “usual” is. High school (when I felt optimistic and motivated), or the few good weeks I had this year (when I felt like myself), or what I would prefer to feel, instead of “average for the last few years.”
I can’t imagine how it must be to write something like that to share when you are feeling depressed. When I am lost in the murk in my brain, it seems like the last thing I want is for anyone to see me, though I paradoxically usually want help and care as well. Since I’m single and live alone, that help is usually not there.
There have been several occasions lately when I was up far too late at night trying to cope with the things my brain was trying to tell me and I would stop to think about what both you and Jenny Lawson have written. I would go back to the links and reread them. It helped. To know that creative, fun, and successful people whom I admire had similar problems and could fight through them while still being amazing definitely helped.
Just a few weeks ago, I finally let people know that I was having serious trouble. Since then, I have been assessed as having major depressive disorder and am starting CBT therapy. In a few more weeks, I’ll get to see a psychiatrist and we’ll discuss medication. There are a lot of things to repair, but I am hopeful. I’m happy I was able to pull through some bad times and then finally reach out. Your candor and your writing helped me do this.
Thank you, Wil.
Thanks for sharing this, my awesome brilliant kid has horrendous anxiety and depression. Thanks to you I can remind him that depression lies and you can live very well and survive this.
Thanks for sharing this. I look up to you as a positive, nice guy who approaches life with fantastic enthusiasm. I admire so greatly that you have worked so hard to build a life working as a professional nerd. To know that you struggle with the demon, and yet manage to do so many amazing things, lend me hope and strength /sappiness
thank you from someone who is not open about being depressed. thank you for making the world seem a little less lonely. hang in there — you are strong and an inspiration. be well
Wil, I came by your blog last night after having seen Star Trek Into Darkness and searching for reviews of it online to see what people thought of it. I used to come here some time back more regularly, but just fell out of the routine. Anyway, suffice it to say that I checked in…and then I read this post.
I’m sorry that the black dog stuck its head into your life again, man, it’s not good but things are as they are. At least you know depression for what it is, and you recognise its lies. Sometimes, just knowing that helps a lot, not to mention you have a family who loves you for who you are, which I know you know as you write of them with such obvious affection.
Glad the worst seems to have passed after the one day described above. Stay strong (as much as is possible), and remember the Non Judgemental Ninja. You’re fine, Wil.
Thank you for your honesty and sincerity I’m 41 now and it took me until I was 40 to get medical help for my depression. The damn thing can be so all-encompassing that it made me too depressed and anxious to get help. What too many people fail to understand is that meds are not a crutch or even a cure-all; they just make it possible to get through the days / weeks of having the mental crap beaten out of you. Of course, maybe that’s a bad metaphor, because, really, why would we want the crap in us. Stay well.
Here is a stick. You can make it through. Strength and victory to you.
Ray
Hi Wil,
Please excuse the long comment, but I just want to share my experience with Depression and how it has affected me.
I know exactly how you feel. I experience the same exact thing. In fact, I’m actually feeling a little bit of it right now. I happened to stumble upon your blog after seeing a couple things from this past year’s Wootstock. Let me just say that, while I don’t wish it upon anybody, it is nice to know that I’m not alone.
My depression wasn’t always like this. Hell, before I went off to college 9 years ago, I never really felt depression. I will say that I do have Asperger’s Syndrome, so being social never really caught on with me, and I was completely cool with it at the time.
I went off to major in music at the University of Miami. My freshman year went great, made friends and became more social than I even thought was possible. My sophomore year was less… friendly. It started out better than my freshman year, approaching people I didn’t know and becoming friends on the spot, something that never happened in high school.
Then everything went wrong. People I thought were my friends back-stabbed me and others just stopped talking to me. I thought I did something wrong and became extremely suicidal… to the point where I was actually trying to plan out how to do it. Thankfully, nothing ever came of it, but the depression was so bad, I locked myself in my dorm for 3 days, missing classes and even a performance for the music school (thankfully, the professor understood and he had me make it up through some extra work).
It literally took a Resident Assistant who let me know that the university was worried and would send me home if I didn’t go see a counselor to get me out of my room. The rest of the semester was a living hell, getting F’s for the first time in my life and staying cooped in my dorm when I didn’t have to go outside.
Since then, things have been smoothed over with some of those friends, but the depression never quite went away. I had a tendency to alienate any new friends that I made because I was always worried they would back-stab me or otherwise just start ignoring me. I frequently lashed out at these people, which ended friendships very quickly.
Needless to say as well, my grades suffered as well. I never had a semester after that where I didn’t have an F. I stopped studying, stopped exercising, and pretty much anything else I didn’t have the energy to do. I spent a 5th year trying to wrap things up, which never happened. I had to drop out and go home to a local community college.
While my depression has never truly gone away, it did help to go back to my family. I’ve somewhat gotten myself back on my feet, but it comes back from time to time.
We all just have to hang in there.
Thank you for making it okay to be a geek, and showing us the real fun in being who we are. More importantly than anything thank you for helping many of us be able to hold our heads high and admit we are mental illness survivors. Knowing depression killed Robin Williams sobers us and reminds us to take our meds and stay open to communication but when someone vital and alive and real can say out loud that you live with depression it makes it easier for us to tell the people who need to know we also are survivors.