Phew. I don’t know about you but four days of forced time off wreaked havoc on my mental health. Don’t get me wrong; I’m grateful for my life and family here in New York City. I love it here and I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else. But by Friday at around noon, I recognized the signs of an acute depressive episode. I was down on myself, I was anxious, I had trouble making decisions. I got snappy. It took me by surprise, which is, itself, a bit surprising. Particularly because I always feel like this on any major holiday. Christmas. Thanksgiving. Memorial Day. Towards the end of a lunch hour. You choose.
There are a few things going on. One: I have a genetic predisposition towards depression. My grandfather took medication for it in an era where you had to be climbing the walls to go to the doctor. I’ve had bouts throughout my life. Sometimes they’ve lasted a day or two. Sometimes they’ve lasted a few months. I’ve written in the past about mental health and why it’s so important to talk about it. I’ve also given some useful tips on how to figure out what might be going on if you’re not sure. Bottom line is, I tend to see the glass half empty. I see it as a bit of a superpower, sometimes. It helps avoid putting too much trust in people, for example. And it’s good for managing risks on work projects. But it’s also a bummer and I wish I didn’t suffer with it. It’s an illness I’ll be managing all my life. I see it as a bit like needing eyeglasses. It’s part of who I am.
Holidays also present an opportunity to be hard on oneself. I don’t need any help with that. I need help being kind to myself. So, if you throw all the pressure of a big family holiday my way, it tends to flood my anxiety circuits. Things that wouldn’t trouble me on resilient days get under my skin. The New York Tax people sent me a lovely letter the day before Thanksgiving, for example. They’ve lost a check I sent them. Although they did cash it, first. They are yet to attribute it to my account. This saga has been going on for a few months. Their timing could have been better. But most days, I could read a note like that and move on. Instead, it annoyed me all weekend. I felt powerless and frustrated. I felt weak for the annoyance. I beat myself up for not being able to react in a normal way.
The other thing I realized is that New York is a particularly depressing place to be over the holidays. That thrum of energy you feel most days disappears. A lot of people leave town to see their families, so the reliable city you can depend on to give you a bit of a buzz stops. It can be jarring. I should have been more prepared. I thought “I should write about it so I can remind myself it happens, next time.”
That’s what this is. When I get these episodes, once I’ve noticed them, I communicate. I told my wife what was going on. She wasn’t surprised and offered support. Then I talked to some of my mates about it. I played squash with a friend of mine who’d asked me how Thanksgiving was, and I told him: “Pretty hard work, actually.” He told me it’s actually very common for people in New York to get depressed over the holidays. We went out for lunch with some other friends, and they also expressed their sympathies. By now, a few days after the weekend has passed, I’m at about a six out of ten. By next week I expect to be back to an eight. I know not to rush it. The energy to say “I’m fine” is depressive. It’s the energy to fix everything. You can’t. You must accept that. The truth is, I’m not fine. I’ll feel better soon and that’s good enough for me. Meantime I can put one foot in front of the other and manage. I’ll be alright. That’s a more authentic expression of recovery.
The good news is that in hindsight, I don’t remember how I was feeling when I have moments like this. I do remember how kind people were to me when I told them what was going on. I do also remember the nice food we ate, or the things we did. It’s a case of putting one foot in front of the other, reaching out, communicating, and trusting that all things must pass. We even went and bought the biggest holiday tree in the store this morning. I’m delighted with the “first draft” of its lighting and ornamentation.
I’m grateful for your support as always. Likewise, I’m sorry if you’ve been going through similar. If you’ve been in New York over the holidays the chances are, you might have been! So: I see you. And I’m sending support. Plus: I still feel that New York City is the best place in the world. This is just one part of living here, and I can deal with it. You can, too. I’m sure of it.
