I recently began re-listening to Lost Connections by Johann Hari, and, among other things, it has reminded me that depression is a group of symptoms more than it is a disease. Depression is a warning system alerting you to the fact that something is seriously wrong.
There is so much good in this book, so much that I connect to so deeply. And since I haven’t finished listening to it for the second time I’m going to miss some things. But in addition to the emphasis on the fact that doctors just don’t really know why anti-depressants work for some people, there’s the main idea that your depression is telling you something is missing. You have lost one of your important connections.
Of course, during the Covid shutdown, most of us have lost some integral connections. Being social with friends has become difficult; physical contact with people has lessened, with fewer kisses, hugs, handshakes even; health and security have been taken away from a lot of people.
It got me wondering if my persistently recurring depression over the last 12 months could be traced to any lost connections, and I think I’ve decided… YES. Yes, yes, yes, a million times over, yes. Wow, I’ve lost a lot. Or, maybe lost isn’t the right word. I’m currently “missing” a lot of those key connections. Or maybe even better, I’m currently “deficient” in some key connections
Sex. Covid has killed my sex life. My wife and I are together… All. The. Damn. Time. And I think there’s something to be said about absence making the heart (and maybe loins) grow fonder. I’ve read that many marriages have suffered from a blow to their sex life since the pandemic. For me it’s especially hard because I am so reliant on sex and physical intimacy to feel wanted, to feel loved, to feel a sense of acceptance. I remember being on campus in college and an older gentleman sat next to me and began talking about some academic subject he was studying. Somehow he got around to asking me about my religious views, and when I told him I didn’t believe in God or an afterlife, he said, “sex must be very important in your life.” That just hit the nail square on the head in a way that made me very uncomfortable, and I declined to answer. But it stuck with me, and I know he was right.
I’m no longer getting that boost of security that comes from being wanted, from knowing someone wants to be physically connected to me as badly as I want to be physically connected to her. Things have grinded to a halt. In normal times I’ve been able to mitigate down periods in my sex life by having some alone time to watch porn and take care of myself, but with my wife working from home all the time, that’s another thing that has been taken away…
Connection to self. I am the type of person who needs a lot of alone time. Being around other people drains my energy, and I usually need to be alone to recharge. Now, being around my wife is not the same as being in a room full of strangers or even acquaintances, but it’s still not being fully alone. I think I have spent the past year almost consistently buzzing from always being at least a little “on” without any chance to fully shut down and recharge.
Purpose. My job gives me some purpose, some responsibility, makes me feel like I’m helping and serving the community around me. But I used to have a second job, and that job was more of a passion than it was a job. That passion project was mostly taken away from me by Covid, and I have spent the past twelve months without one of the main activities that would fulfill my need for meaning and purpose and self-fulfillment. I have searched around for something to feel good about. I’ve tried to work out more than usual. I’ve tried to learn a language. I’ve started two blogs. I’ve thought about researching a book. But nothing has replaced that passion project that comes so naturally to me.
Connection to others. That passion project was also a big part of my connection to others. I have three areas of connection to others, and two of them were taken away, probably most notably that passion project group. That group was large, ever shifting, and meaningful. My friends never really disappear. And luckily my work is a huge part of my social network. Still, though, my connection to others has been largely taken away.
Hope. I don’t think this is one of Hari’s connections, but for me this is huge. There has to be some hope, some optimism. Before Covid, my wife and I had a list of activities lined up since Christmas, about one a month. Plays, comedy shows, concerts. It gave us a night out to look forward to together. That has been taken away. Some of our annual trips have been taken away. And then take away the hope for some shared sexual exploration, and I’ve been left wanting (more on that word in a bit). I know change is coming, and I know there will be opportunities to resume our old life… eventually. But for much of the past year that hope and optimism have been taken away.
Another one Hari doesn’t count as its own connection: Play. This is an idea I got from Brene Brown’s book The Gifts of Imperfection. There was a quote in it, and I won’t get this exactly right, but it absolutely fucked my world up. She mentioned that the research of another doctor seemed to show the health effects of lack of play were similar to that of lack of sleep, which according to the wonderful book Why We Sleep by Matthew Walker are dire. According to Walker, deterioration of most aspects of health begin the second we wake from sleep, until if you’re awake long enough, you die. The question, he says, isn’t why we sleep, but why we ever wake. (And I think Hari would answer that we wake to achieve the key connections in life). So without play we suffer. And the doctor Brene Brown quotes says, “The opposite of play is not work. The opposite of play is depression.” And that’s me. That’s my life. If I have no play in my life, if I have no reward for the hard work I put in, then I have no vitality, I have no hope and optimism.
Wanting. This is an interesting word. Because I spend a lot of time thinking, “I want…” whatever it is. But want means to lack as much as it means a desire. So every time I think “I want,” what I’m also saying is, “I don’t have.” And how awful to be spending so much time talking and thinking about what I don’t have.
Okay, so what’s the answer, right? You’re tired of this depressive whine, aren’t you? I know I sure as fuck am. So where do we go? Well, the short answer is, “I don’t fucking know.” The longer answer is just a tad more nuanced. A few ideas.
- If you want to feel something different, you have to do something different. Or as my friend has said, “motion creates emotion.” Depression sometimes feels like moving through life as if you’re under water. Everything is slow and sluggish. And you have to do something different to break that feeling. You have to move. You have to do a different activity than the ones you’ve been trying over and over and over to stop feeling the exact same way you’re still feeling. (But here is why the short answer is “I don’t fucking know.” Because I don’t know what different thing to try necessarily.)
- Purposely attack some of those lost connections. I don’t know if it’s better to pick the big one and try to fill the missing connection, or to pick an easy one and try to create a small victory, a slump-buster if you will. But one way or another you have to fill your missing connections. (Me, I planned something for my wife and me, something for us to look forward to, and if all goes well, something to spark our intimacy as well. Being fully vaccinated, I also hope to begin meeting with some of my friends who are also vaccinated and sharing coffee, meals, hopefully a hug.)
- Play. And I think for a lot of people this means allow yourself to play as much as actually doing it. For a lot of us we feel guilty for playing at the expense of doing something more “productive.” I have a friend who punishes herself for not doing more in her life despite advocating for others to be more lenient with themselves. I hope she allows herself more play time. Now that I know the importance of play I hope I can prioritize it more and feel less guilty for enjoying it.
This has been a hard, shitty fucking year for so many people. I have a salary I can count on, and I’m fully vaccinated, so it would be insensitive of me to complain about the circumstances of my life. But those of us who know the struggle of depression know that generally good life circumstances are not enough to ward of depression. I just hope that re-listening to Hari’s book will help me recognize what is missing from my life and allow me to purposefully add it to my otherwise generally solid circumstances.
I hope anyone reading this can find some hope and optimism in their life. And some play, whatever form that may take.
Sex And Depression 