226 thoughts on “and i am nothing of a builder”

1. Christ. Right in the gut. You have just summed up the last thirteen years of my life and I nearly leaked beard lubricant from my eyes when I read this.

2. Thank you for reminding me I am not alone, and in being so reminded, I would remind you of the same. It *is* really fucking hard. Sometimes it’s enough just to be on the right side of the grass, my friend.

3. Total agreement. I finally managed to get a story draft done that I’ve been working on for months. I wish to thank you as an inspiration…and a little bit of the basis for the lead character.

   Hang in there. Just do what you do. You are not alone, but you know that as well.

4. ~Huggle~ I love you.

5. I have never read words truer than these. Thank you.

6. Agreed.

7. My world totally. Don’t know how to get past it most times.

8. You are awesome and I Hope You keep pushing, cause so do I and it’s worth it. We Are Not our Depression.

9. I definitely needed to hear this today. I’m struggling to finish a WIP for an anthology and edit the first book in a series that’s due soon…logically I know they’re good ideas, but every time I have to stare at the open manuscripts, it’s almost a physical discomfort that brings up all sorts of worries, anxieties, and feelings of inadequacy. I’m not giving up by any shot, but it’s comforting to know that other creative sorts deal with this. Seriously, thank you.

10. Depression lies, and is a bitch, but you are not its bitch.

    Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself. And we grab the hands that reach out to help us keep from falling any further into the pit, and while we don’t think we deserve the help, the owners of those hands are damn sure that we do.

    That’s how we go on to battle another day.

11. It *is* really fucking hard. I’ve come to accept I’ll have unexpected visits from the Depression Demon with no known trigger. I’ve come to accept when that happens, I’ll be unproductive for a day or a week or a month. Acceptance has it’s own little bit of healing. Ride it out as best you can.

12. {hugs}

13. Today is today, and tomorrow is tomorrow…..live for today, that’s all we can do. Be selfish, and enjoy today for what it is. Stop thinking about tomorrow. Live life as if today was your last.

    -any

14. What a brave thing to say.

15. I have recently finished Madness: A Bipolar Life by Marya Hornbacher, which details her ongoing struggle with severe Bipolar Disorder Type I. It is a difficult read – the details of her madness are far from pretty; I came away being grateful that I have Type II and haven’t had the extreme experiences that she has. Nor do I have to struggle as hard as she does just to maintain some semblance of normalcy in my day-to-day life.

    So much of what you have shared has touched me deeply and profoundly – you are truly a person who makes a difference in the lives of others. Additionally, you have provided countless hours of entertainment, and I haven’t even seen everything you’ve done – yet.

    Cling as hard as you can to the truth that depression lies – you were the first person I ever heard describe it in that way, and it has been a blessing, a lifesaver, a touchstone for me ever since.

    Sir, I am forever grateful that you have shared so much of yourself so freely. From the comments here and elsewhere, you must know how positive an impact you have had on so many lives. Believe that!

16. In any creative endeavor, the only way to fail is to quit.

    I know you’re not much for faith, but have faith in yourself. Hug your wife, call your kids, and tomorrow, you can crawl off the matt and kick your brain in the balls and make something awesome.

    Maybe something like brain balls.

17. I really relate to how you’re feeling, and I appreciate you putting this out there, so as to hopefully relieve some of your own burden but to let people like me and the many others with depression who’ve commented here and the many more who’ve read and left no comment that we are not alone. Thank you.

18. “…but here I dreamt I was an architect…” I show my solidarity as someone who deals with doubts and depressions. May the clouds part for you and when your burden lifts may the strength you’ve found in darkness serve you well in the light.

19. I think you’re brave, and I think you’re brilliant. Depression is a heavy, heavy bastard, and some days, you’re stronger than others. My money’s on you.

20. Depression is really hard and I have only been dealing with it the last year since my son had a brain malformation “all better now though”, when I read what wil says about depression it helps me to deal with it. Luke

21. I know a lot of people may be giving you encouragement right now and I would only be just one. In fact I hope a lot of people give you encouragement, not because you need it but because you deserve it. And there are a lot more people out there who want to give you encouragement but don’t know what or how to say it.

    You are some one I admire, not only because of your acting notables, but of the causes and projects you are involved with. I admired Westley when I was a kid, and still do.But after reading your books I feel closer to you now than I did Westly then because I understood how you felt when you were recounting your experiances. I am also absolutely in love with Table Top and have many friends that I gotten into table games.

    I hope you feel better and that the depression elephant gets off your chest.

22. You’re one of the good guys, Wil. You’re not a dick. That counts for so much. Even on the worst days.

23. I can’t begin to tell you how much it means to me right now, in the middle of a sleepless night where the world seems too big and too dark, only to read this and know I am not alone. That I don’t need to be ashamed… Thank you.

24. Jesus, I know the feeling so well. I’m sorry you have to go through this. And I wish I had advice or could make it go away. I’m not very apt at dealing with it… I’ve lived with it since I was quite young, and back then mental health problems in children just weren’t acknowledged. So one learns patterns to survive, which help initially, but which really fuck you up in the long run. I’ve been on Prozac for years, but each time I try to come off them, IT comes back with a vengeance. So I just keep going. Some days are better than others. Mostly I’m happy, and I don’t care if that is just down to the damn pills. But occasionally – regularly – the wave comes back, and sometimes it just comes up to my knees, sometimes my chest, sometimes it rolls over my head and suffocates me, and I want to scream for help but I’m too afraid to terrify my friends… because I know it passes.. And that I don’t want to be the girl that cried wolf. But this is the thing I know and have learnt over the years. That I need to grit my teeth and ride it out. That I know it passes. That I cling to wonderful memories of the times when I am not being choked by the black vines, that I know it CAN be better, and that it WILL be better again, and I will enjoy life again. I have wonderful friends and a good life that I wouldn’t want to miss. But I know what it’s like when the voice gets too loud and drowns it all out. And the only thing I know to do is to sleep it off. Not task myself too much. Not expect of myself too much. You wouldn’t when you’re in bed with the flu. It’s impossible when your brain is trying to kill you. I try to picture my brain as a malfunctioning organ then, try to turn this depression into a biological fact rather than an unsurmountable demon. And it passes. Eventually. Be kind to yourself, Wil. Don’t push yourself to be a performer of any sorts… you don’t have to be to be a valid, loved human being. Try and remember the good times – I know you had them. Remember that you are loved by thousands for the incredible creative work you have done, for the hope you have given people, for the way you spoke for people when they didn’t have a voice. And remember that many many creative people have suffered from similar dark clouds as you have, have had crippling self-doubts… but that didn’t stop millions from admiring their work and who they were.
    You’ve been my utter hero since I was a teenager… that’s 20 years now since I first saw you on screen. And you always displayed an air of innate kindness and smartness and goodness that came through all your acting and all your other creative work. Initially it was just a gut feeling that you’re good. Now I KNOW, just from all the evidence I have seen. And seeing that goodness in a person when there wasn’t a lot of good around me at the time really helped me through some shit times. This may sound insane or cheesy, but so be it. You have left your mark on the world, Wheaton, and it’s a good one.

    P.S. Read Andrew Solomon’s “Noonday Demon”. Just trust me. Do it.

25. I love you. Keep pushing.

26. “depresison is a dick”

27. All the positive commenters are right sir.

    If it helps to look in a sort of “positive mirror”, I direct you to Larry David. He cried every time Seinfeld got picked up for another season, because of the weight. Kicking that weight’s ass is well worth it. Persevere.

28. brave soul – you.

    I am respectfully grateful for your courage because it helps me help my children. Namaste

    ~adoptive parent of children with mental health illness and developmental delay.

29. Thank you so much. I hate to see someone else who goes through it themselves but to SEE someone write it out like that, it doesn’t make me feel so alone about my own depression.

30. I know this probably makes no difference because depression sucks and is irrational and stupid but … you were on the Big Bang Theory!

31. From a fellow “Wil with one ‘L'” who also struggles with these same feelings at college on a daily basis, just know that at the end of each day you are still an inspiration to many and genuinely talented at making others laugh. Keep fighting the good fight and thanks for being here for us.

32. I feel like you are in my head right now.

    I just had this discussion with a friend over twitter yesterday. He asked me if I’ve been writing and I told him I’ve hardly written anything within the last six months (really longer than that though) because of my depression. It completely blocks my creativity. He said he uses his to write. I wish I knew how to do that because for me it feels like something choking me when I try to create, like I can’t breath.

    There are good days and there are bad days, but mostly bad days.

    Anyway, I hope you have some good days soon, because I really do know what it feels like and it’s horrible.

    Also, thanks for talking about this so openly. I feel like a lot of people don’t understand what it’s really like, and depression and anxiety tend to get mocked by people that don’t go through it.

33. Mr Wheaton, as a freelance writer and chronic depressive diagnosed with PTSD, I am deeply familiar with your pain. Try to bear in mind that Hollywood is a glittering monster that feeds on the hearts of those who become caught up in it. Hollywood is like Versailles under Louis XIV: contempt and terror in peacock clothing. You are a good man, sensitive, talented, skilled, and YOU ARE NOT ALONE. Let those who love you help you. You deserve it. And trust your unconscious. If I am blocked in my writing it is usually because (1) I fear the feelings that will come up if I write what I truly deep down wish to write; (2) I am trying to force myself to write what I think will sell rather than what my soul longs to write; (3) I am trying to write what my soul longs to write but I am forcing it into a genre or presentation that is not suited to its core; or (4) I am writing when I should be living, loving, playing with the kids, getting a cranial-sacral session, visiting a place I have always been enchanted by. Your writing WILL come back to you. You can be certain of that. Blessings.

    1. This was also beautifully worded. As a fellow creative type, it resonates with me. Thank you for YOUR words also.

34. Buck up, chum. You have another season of Tabletop to do (I hope). Today, I started taking steps to move my life forward, overcoming my own anxieties and insecurities. I know you can shake off your current fug because you’ve done it before. Besides, if I can move forward so can you 🙂

35. What you said. Because I can’t say it yet.

36. This is exactly, exactly, exactly me. I have been unable to write consistently or finish projects for over a year.

    While I am under the surface I can’t remember any accomplishments, and when they’re pointed out I can’t recognize them. It’s like a weird borderline-MPD thing – living several realities that are at odds and yet connected by a vague memory of images, if no feelings. Sometimes I wonder if anything is worth it, ever, at all, and then I realize that since I’m not 100% sure of any other existence, this might be my only shot at this life thing and I should try to stick it out, if for no other reason than to witness what happens.

37. Great post!
    Your post won’t pin to Pinterest without an image. I don’t know how that works.
    I write by hand on paper because its easier when lumped in a depression. I just begin writing with no particular plan. Sometimes it works, sometimes not. I’m very good at sitting doing nothing but thinking and looking at the room or out the window. I like spiral notebooks, picking a blank page, front, back, middle doesn’t matter. Only the pen to paper on a page matters. Sometimes I write as well as dream of stories thinking of real actors like you. You all win Oscars, btw. lol

38. tis the season of the back hole that circles waiting to pounce and devour all thought and reason. I fight back with uv lamp, good music and exercise. A routine that I follow even when the bed and covers call out to me. When having to up the anti-depressants is scheduled so I can’t just “go with the flow”. writing the words that swirl in the brain and then going to the garage to beat the crap out of the heavy bag. Your blog is part of my fight. You and the Blogess are bright lights shining and guiding me away from that black hole vortex that fills you head with the “shoulda, woulda, coulda” mantra of failure. Trying to reprogram my brain from cues that lead down the dark path. Thanks for being open and sharing. It makes it easier knowing that others feel the same.

39. Wil,
    I like you and I like your writing. All of you and all of your writing.

    (in a non creepy way)

    That is all.

40. Wil,

    Remember that on days when you can’t, there were (and will be) days when you could. On one of those days, people like me saw what you wrote, watched your con panel talks on youtube, or enjoyed your writing or acting or gaming or brewing or general Wil-ness. Your creations endure and enlighten and bring all of us up on OUR bad days. Maybe, when I found your blog, watched some of your vids about ‘just do it even though you suck – everybody sucks’ – maybe that particular day was very bad for you. I don’t know, but I know it helped me. It gave me hope. It encouraged me to keep trying and actually got me to seek help. You helped inspire me to write about my feelings, and you gave me the courage to get myself into therapy. You did that, Wil Wheaton, and you don’t even know me. I don’t know you either, but I’d like to consider you a friend.

    Your brain can be a dick. Telling it not to be a dick doesn’t help, I know. Brain chemistry is a bully, and it can’t be reasoned with. Endure. Continue. Write about it if you can. Sometimes the stuff that sucks is what some of us need to hear.

41. Yes, it’s very hard to keep a manuscript going under the duress of depression. The way to get over it is by maintaining a process. Start with a brief outline- a sentence that tells the whole story (this will eventually become your chapters). Hand write everything that comes to mind no matter when or where you are. Type all of your notes on a schedule. Keep track of your word count. Reward yourself when you reach milestones- like at every 10,000 words. Record every word that comes into your head. Don’t worry if it doesn’t make sense or seem to fit- it will eventually. If you get stuck, don’t stress it. Just read a book.

42. This is something that I struggle to do, especially when I don’t have someone outside forcing me to do it; it’s easier to force myself to build something, to do anything, no matter how much I don’t want to when I have someone forcing me to do it. Every time I consider trying to do those same things on my own, these sentiments are what weigh me down day after day.

    Getting through this is infuriating and difficult. But I suppose it’s worthwhile, too.

43. Yes, but you know what’s great?

    Later, when you’re in a more righteous frame of mind, and you poke through that folder and you say to yourself “Huh, some of these actually aren’t half-bad.”

44. Oh man…this hits SO CLOSE TO HOME. Last week, I ran out of one of my psych meds. My pharmacy needed authorization from my doctor to refill it (which my doc apparently sent in but my pharmacy didn’t get), but I was flat broke and couldn’t afford it anyway. My plan this month has been to prep for the novel I’ve been meaning to write and post little bits of the prep to my blog every day, but once I was off that med, I couldn’t focus on ANYTHING enough to write a sentence. I was anxious and depressed and on a crazy rollercoaster of feels. I got back on my med this past weekend, and I’m feeling MUCH better now, but after that week of hell, getting back into writing anything has been such a struggle! And every minute I don’t write is a minute I’m angry with myself and disappointed with myself. I was thinking the other day about stand up comedians. If I were doing the stand up circuit, wouldn’t I go on stage and force myself to perform regardless of how I was feeling? Why is it so hard to write when your depression and anxiety are kicking you in the junk? Why is it so hard to tell the voices of depression and anxiety to fuck off?

    Hang in there, Wil. You know you’ll get through this.

45. right there with you. you’re not alone. and I suppose then, neither am I.

46. I guess if I were in your position, sometimes I am, I’d say stop the comparisons. Everyone is different. “They” may have qualities and talents you don’t, but that’s what makes them “them”. You need to focus on the qualities you have that “they” don’t. That’s what makes you “you” Admire and be amazed at what “they” do. But learn and be inspired by it. Don’t let it take you down. Then clear your mind. Occupy it for a day with something other than what you’ve been trying to do. See what comes to you. See what makes you say Wow or cool. In life though, not work. Then See if it intrists you to create a SMALL project around that. Just do it. Don’t think about it. Just do it. Don’t put all the weight of the world or your carreer on it. Just creat a little fun thing. Then… go from there. Maybe build on it. Maybe not. See what happens. But what do I know. Could be easier said than done. You’ve got talent either way bro. Good luck!
    C…

47. Wil,

    The best part of this article is the encapsulation of the “death spiral”.

    Depression sings it song all that gorram time, and it drives you in circles, and your Hope (bless its little black spotted socks) tries to point out that there is, actually, in fact, a glimmer of hope… jjjjuuuusstt over…. there.. if you reach for it.. but depression is still singing its song, so back to step 1.

    Some days, I have listened to the siren song of depression too long and I wonder if Hope, in its continual attempt to make things better, is merely the devil twin to the siren song itself. After all, if it was JUST the siren song, we would give up and then it would be done, no more fighting and no more pain. But no, hope with its angle wings of light and glitter makes us keep fighting – so which is the thing giving us pain, the siren song or the glittering wings?

    It is after all the fight that makes us take each breathe and each step and every single day ahead.

    Wil, know that your steps each day make by hope grow a touch brighter and a little closer

48. Wil,

    I have been to four conventions that you have been, but have not yet come to get your signature. Maybe I was really wrong about you. I will make an effort to come say Hi next Convention and would you like to visit on the day I release my trailer?

    Angela Lancaster
    Legion of Three Studio
    Producer/3d Animator

49. Thank you, thank you, That’s exactly it.

50. *hug*

    Like so many on here, I am also familiar with that awful feeling. Mostly I’m able to smack it on the nose and make it back off, but it sits there just out of the way, watching for another opportunity to advance… I hope I can keep smacking it on the nose… I don’t want to feel its hot, stinky breath on the back of my neck ever again… And I hope that you will be able to smack yours on the nose & send it away, too.

    Just want to share a little story from this past Monday. I went down to the food court at work to grab a late lunch (what I ate probably doesn’t quite constitute lunch, but it was food…) and there was a fellow in the line next to mine, a smart man, being as he was getting Subway… and from the back/side (not backside.. though maybe….? :-D) & his height, my thought was Oh! He looks like Wil! From the front he didn’t, so I was actually rather disappointed (for him… you’re more handsome than this fellow turned out to be), but it made me happy to think of you for a few moments. You’re a good guy dealing with bad stuff, & a brave guy to let it out in the open where we can all share & hopefully ease each others’ loads a little. The cream always rises to the top they say – and you/we will rise above, too!!

    Love ya! Here’s to better days!!

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