The List
As I write this, I am feeling depressed. Not just sad, which I often feel, but depressed.
My formula for this experience is: Depression = Sadness + The List.
After much work, I have learned to befriend my sadness. It brings depth and richness to the wonder and beauty of life.
There is the sweet melancholy of the falling of cherry blossoms; the bleak yet grounding greys and browns of winter; the throat-lumping nostalgia of looking at my kids and wondering how they grew up so fast.
I have learned that my sadness is nothing to be ashamed of or anything to fear or resist: it is a flavor of life, and a critical, even delicious one at that.
But depression is different.
When I am depressed, I find myself stuck in sadness, and then my mind starts The List: the list of all the absolutely legitimate and incontrovertible reasons I have to be sad.
Here’s my current List of reasons to be sad, which has been on repeat in my head for the last week or so.
1. The ongoing world environmental disaster which only has been accelerated, yet again, by the recent belch of holiday consumption and excess
2. The deterioration of my health as a result of a degenerative lung condition, and the hard choices this demands of me
3. Living with a moody and occasionally mean 14 year daughter, and the resulting conflicts with her mom, my dear wife
4. My job, which, as a public defender confronts me daily with the troubles and tragedies of many many people, and which requires me to work within a barbaric, inhumane, and often unjust system
5. The divisive and destructive political landscape of the US, as exemplified by the republican frontrunners AND the reactive and shrill judgments of the left side of the aisle
6. The vomit on the sidewalk I walked by on my way to the subway, left by some grievously drunken soul last night, next to a pitifully empty pint of vodka
7. The seemingly homeless young man I sat next to on the train. I had to switch seats after a few moments because he smelled so bad, but I felt awful doing it, because I feared he would know why I moved
8. The specific, intense, and various struggles and challenges of my family, friends, and colleagues
I could go on of course.
That's the way of lists. They just get longer and longer, accruing more and more weight and durability, more and more persuasive impact.
When I catch myself making this sort of list, I mostly feel embarrassed. I find I don't want to admit it to anyone, for fear of making them sad too, or because I feel weak and soft, or because I am supposed to be a leader, and I don't want to be a corrosive one
Sometimes it takes a while to catch myself making The List, and in that dark purgatory, I find myself mute and fundamentally un-eloquent. It's not just that I don’t want to talk about it, it's that I am incapable of doing so.
All I want to do is curl up in my bed, or close my office door, or read a distracting novel, or endlessly troll Facebook to find some glimmer of positivity. I want to hide, pretend that everything is okay, and secretly lick my wounds.
Thankfully, one tool that I have discovered to dig my way out of this place is writing. Writing is my refuge, a place where I can gather myself, give voice to the haunting and repetitious swirling thoughts, and bring sunlight to bear on the toothy vampiric items of The List.
Indeed, I find my spirits lifted already, having written thus far.
Which leads me to the next step: The Blessing List. This list serves as a sort of counter to the sad-story list, a yin to its fierce yang energy.
Here goes:
1. The sun is shining outside and it’s a crisp, beautiful day.
2. At the moment, my lungs are working perfectly, and each big breath is a delicious confirmation.
3. My family, friends, and colleagues are, in this moment, healthy and safe, and my wife and daughter are coming to take me out to lunch.
4. As of today, we have not actually reached the environmental apocalypse, and we still have time to make major changes. Whatever damage is inescapable, we have the smarts and resources to manage it, if we so choose.
5. Tomorrow I am going to a New Year’s Day dance party with some of my favorite people on earth.
6. I am well loved and live in vibrant and connected community.
7. I am capable of stepping out of my self-imposed isolation to speak my truth and I am not alone.
8. All the items on my dark list were also true a week ago when I was feeling joy, so this darkness, like everything else, is ephemeral and will pass.
Thank you friends, for reading this far, and for giving me the space to share my stuff. It is profoundly helpful to me.
The darkest part of the night is just before sunrise, and right at this moment, the sun is shining warm and bright through my window, and directly into my heart.