When describing anxiety to someone unfamiliar with the feeling, I sometimes tell them it’s like a black crow. Sharp, harsh, cunning. It knows how to pick locks and find hidden morsels in tender places. It can be startling and unsettling, and it can loom. Menacing. A murder of anxieties.
Years ago, I sat with a friend battling with depression. When I struggled to understand what she was going through, she shared the video I had a black dog, his name was depression produced by the World Health Organization (WHO). She said it was the most accurate description of the feeling of depression she’d ever seen. It helped me, who had only peripheral encounters with depression, to understand her experience. And it gave us a shorthand: “How is the black dog today?” Whether you’ve ever had depression or not, I hope you’ll watch it.
My image of the black crow of anxiety – with whom I’ve had an ongoing relationship -- is a riff on the image of depression’s black dog – who I’d barely even met.
Until a couple of months ago.
Early this summer, the black dog came and sat on my chest.
He isn’t there all the time. But when he is, my life goes into a shadowed eclipse. There are aspects of depression that I recognize and don’t surprise me: a lack of cheerfulness, a joylessness about things that I usually love, challenges with eating and sleeping.
But a few things surprised me.
Let’s be clear: I’m not a mental health expert in any way. As I said, I don’t even have a long history with depression. I am receiving therapeutic support to discern what I’m feeling as depression from overwhelm, burnout and trauma response. I am considering pharmaceuticals depending on how therapy goes. My intention in writing this is not to give any kind of medical advice whatsoever but rather to highlight and normalize symptoms and experiences that we might not recognize as depression. My intention is to encourage anyone suffering from any kind of dis-ease – mental or otherwise – to get the appropriate treatment and compassionate support that is right for them. Please see below for resources.*
So while I would have said I knew the basic signs of depression, some elements of these depressive episodes are unexpected. Here are three things that happen sometimes that I have to remind myself are part of depression’s black dog.
1. Utter loss of concentration and focus
Even in the best of times, I don’t have the best focus in the world. I often live in the myth of multitasking, much to the bemusement of my beloved. But when the black dog is around, I can stand in front of a recipe and stare at it. I can look at the lists and piles on my desk and just...look at them. For a long time. It is a feeling beyond brain fog that verges on brain blankness. For a get ‘er done woman, the feeling is unfamiliar, disconcerting and alarming.
2. Out of nowhere
Depression doesn’t always have an obvious cause. Like an unexpected cloud bank, it can swoop in and block the sun out of nowhere, for no apparent reason. This incomprehensibility can make it difficult to communicate to others – and to myself – about what is happening. The black dog’s sudden appearance with no causal backstory can be destabilizing and isolating. Don’t let the out of nowhere feeling delegitimize how you’re feeling and stop you from getting support.
3. Seductive “quick sand”
Depression feels terrible. My chest often feels heavy, my body feels drained of energy, and I sometimes feel like I want to cry but can’t. It’s wretched. And yet I didn’t expect the seductive “quick sand”** quality of the black dog. As terrible as it feels, I feel an insidious pull that invites giving up and sinking in. It’s not pleasurable by any stretch but can feel easier to give in than to fight against it. My experience is that the black dog wanders away and then wanders back again so occasionally succumbing to the pull isn’t the end of the world. Sometimes, I’m just having a day. Some folks, however, have chronic and long-lasting depression for whom the seduction can be truly dangerous. Either way, noticing what’s happening is important.
Depression is a serious disease, and everybody is different. You might not experience what I do and we can still both have depression. There are lots of kinds of therapy because there’s no one way that helps people. Drugs work for some people and absolutely do not for others. The things that are surprising to me, might not be to someone else.
Please pay attention to whatever is happening for you and as soon as you can, reach out for the help that you need. Maddeningly, depression can make asking for help feel difficult or even impossible. Which augurs toward talking to your people – friends, family and therapists – about the black dog when you are not feeling depressed so you can easily toss up a flag to get help when you really need it. It helps me to be able to say, “I’m struggling with the black dog today” to my folks and have them know what I mean.
If you notice these or other symptoms in yourself or someone you love, remember that it’s not intentional, it’s not a character flaw, and “just cheer up” is not helpful. One of the most healing things you can do is to be open to what you/they need and have capacity for.
Please know that we want you living and thriving in the world with us. So if the black dog (or the black crow or any other creature of darkness) is sitting on your chest, seek the care that you need from whatever team of people support you best. Together we can give it a biscuit and get it on a leash.
Unlike the campy depictions of quicksand on the screen, the pull of depression is seriously concerning and needs to be addressed. Actual quicksand, though, you can stop worrying about.
