Here comes the rain...

It's that time of year. Dark mornings. Rain. Cold. I'm finding I REALLY don't want to get up in the morning. This can be a tough time of year for those battling with depression because it's just darker and more miserable. Around us, the world starts to look and feel like those feelings we remember and want to avoid. Like a conspiracy to get it all under our skin once more.

Well I'm not playing. Not now.

But man, I'm sleepy. Who do I speak to about not having to get up in the morning? Is there a department that handles this stuff? I form I need to fill out? Just leave me in my bed with the phone and the pizza place on speed dial. Actually no. I don't want to speak to anyone. I'll order food online. Yes, that sounds better.

And then I'll do much sleeping and all will be good, right? Right?

As the mornings and evenings get darker, I hope your mood doesn't match them. Not always easy, I know. But I'm hoping for good things for everyone who stops by here. By the way, a few people have emailed me over the last while looking for help and advice and that's really good. I can't offer much beyond my experiences and some kind words but it feels good that, even when close to dormant, this little blog can help people. Some day I might think about writing a little beginner's guide to depression...

Remember...

Animators, depression and wishes

Another winter. Here it is again. That dreary time of year. That time of year that so often reminds me of that dark place that is a part of me. Why is that? Is it just the weather? The lack of sunlight? Perhaps. The enforced jolliness of Christmas clashing with the reality of our own feelings? Maybe that's more relevant.

Don't worry, folks. I'm doing well. Very well, in fact. Since my last post, my life has gone through many changes and that's frightening and exciting rolled into one. And it's actually fun.

It has warmed my heart that I still get comments and mails from this little blog though. No I don't wish depression on you all. But I know how much reading other sites helped me when I was first diagnosed. Reading the experiences of others was a comfort – that knowledge that, really, I wasn't completely on my own with this. We're in it together and, while many may not ever understand what we go through, there is a select elite group who know all too well.

We're not alone. 

One thing that has become obvious since starting this blog many years ago is that depression seems to go hand in hand with animation a lot of the time. I am not unique. Not by a long shot. So why is that? It's a little curious, right? I don't have answers. Only questions...

Is it that there are so many little things that eat away at us?
Are we not creatively fulfilled?
Are we not rewarded enough for the very skilled work that we do?
Do we feel taken advantage of, trampled on?
Is it that we spend too long by ourselves, in a bubble of scenes?
Do we feel a clash of creative versus commercial and hate what we make?
Is it the endless struggle of having clear vision yet having to wrestle it on to a screen?
Is it as simple as just not getting thanked enough?

Or is it that animation and the whole idea of making films and TV a frame at a time is completely and utterly insane? Yeah, maybe that's a part of it.

Animators, any ideas? Is it animation? Or is it just about being a person?

I don't know but what I do know is that it is often hard to talk about. There is still a stigma attached to depression, mainly because those who don't get it... well, they don't get it. It is hard to be open about it publicly, especially when you're making happy fun little animations to make kids smile. It's not an easy discussion. I know that well and maybe I have been a coward all these years by not posting with my real name but it has allowed me to be very honest about a great many things about just one or two aspects of a far more colourful life. I am not all depression and animation (honest!). But being able to write about those things freely has been very helpful.

Let's try to write more and read more about it, whether we use our real names or not. It all helps.

To everyone who comes by this little blog (and most get here because they are searching for information and posts on depression), I wish you good health. I wish you peace of mind. I wish you fewer depths and less darkness and the strength to make it through both when you have to. This world is filled with shit and hideous things and that so often obscures all of the wonderful things we have, the amazing things that people do, the little acts of kindness, the huge life-changing acts of kindness, the wonder of nature, even just a pretty cloud now and then. The worst things in life are not all our responsibility, not all the time. Allow yourself to put it aside and see the wonder. Give yourself that permission.

I know... easier said than done. But I wish that for you.

And for the animators, what have you got yourself into? What were you thinking? You could have a nice job in retail, where you get to go home content if you just survive the day. No, I'm joking. Animation is awesome, in spite of our griping (well, my griping). For you animators, I wish fulfillment, contentment, pride in your work but not so much that it makes you a pain in the ass. I wish fun characters, great music, and lovely surprises of life and personality as you animate, or little unexpected splashes of colour in your backgrounds. I wish you a moment maybe once a week, hopefully more, when you look at what you have made, at what you created and brought into being in this Universe, and you think – that's awesome.

And lastly to everyone, animator or not, depressed or not, I wish you all a fantastic holiday season. Warmth, family, friends or even just the comfort of lying under a warm blanket on your own.

By the way, if you are in animation, there are tons of relevant posts buried in the archives. Have a browse!

I was depressed. Now I'm not.

So I did EXACTLY what I used to be told not to do while experiencing depression. Here's how it went...

I was feeling that familiar darkness, clouding me, pushing me further away from the real world. That's often how it feels - like I am retreating into somewhere deeper and there are barriers between me and life. Not just barriers. Dark clouds. 

It was depression, no doubt about it. I know it all too well.

I was afraid. Mostly because I don't think I have ever emerged from depression in less than a year. Sometimes much longer. I didn't want to end up lying on my bed in the foetal position but I also didn't want to end up on that long medication road. I hate that road.

I have long felt that depression is situational. A reaction from deep within our core telling us that something is just not right with our life. That could be something huge and obvious but it rarely is,  which is why often we don't know what's wrong. Often, I think it is the effect of a long-term discontentment. Got to be honest, I'm not sure I buy the chemical imbalance thing but that's a discussion for another post.

One thing I was told many times while being treated for depression was not to make any life-changing decisions. Don't get married. Don't move house. Don't buy a boat. But if depression even had the slightest chance of being situational, that advice prevents you from tackling the actual cause in any way. 

This time, I ignored that advice. I made a change. A massive change.

I did something that should increase my stress and my worry - I removed the security I had in my career and set myself on a new path. An unknown path without a worked-out plan. I put myself in a situation where a life change is unavoidable, even if I wanted to back out. I blew up my old world and must now find a new planet. Metaphorically - don't worry, I didn't actually blow anything up.

Getting to the decision to make that change was horrifying.

But once I went ahead with it, those dark clouds lifted. My situation changed. I feel better. And I have never once before seen depression lift so fast. Ever. 

I feel good. 

Sure, I now have major challenges ahead. It's not going to be easy. It may not even work out. But it's exciting and it feels right. It feels so right. I wondered if it might just be a momentary rush of excitement but, no. This is right.

Depression often feels to me like the long-term cumulative damage caused by even a slight unaddressed discontentment. If I am right, then the solution is to change the situation. Exactly the opposite of the advice I have been given over the years.

I feel good.

 

December again

Every now and again, I come back to this place... my old blog. There is a lot to look back on and always a reminder of a particular time in my life. A while before I sort of wound down the blog, I stuck in one of those Google Analytics code things to see how many people were coming to the blog. Turns out it was pretty popular.

Obviously lack of posts caused that number to go down and down. But, looking at the little graph now, somewhere in October it began to go up. And it rose through November to now. Why? Was someone linking to my blog? Writing about it?

No.

It was simply coming up in Google searches more as more people searched for information on 'depression'. It's that dark time of year. Wouldn't it be nice to take my increasing numbers as something positive? The truth is, it's a bad sign for many people. I think I'd be happy if my blog never came up in searches again because nobody needed to know anything about depression any more. Because it was a thing of the past.

But it's not.

Depression is still all around us. Probably more now than ever. It's a tough time of year for many. But you know what? This is why I appreciate all those who blog about depression and tell their stories. So that people who realise they or a loved one may be facing depression have somewhere to go. Real survival stories to read. And even the stories that did not have happy endings, to serve as a reminder that, sometimes, people need help and it's not always obvious. Every one of you who have written about depression help.

Being that darker time of year, I hope you're all doing okay and are looking out for yourselves and others.

And those writing about animation, well look, some people are just beyond help. Making films a frame at a time? Honestly, it's too late for those people. Just get out before they drag you down with them.

Depersonalisation

I've often heard about these 'out of body' experiences. Where people feel themselves float out and above their body looking down at themselves.

I remember when I was first diagnosed with depression, one of the things I felt was that I wasn't living my life - I was watching myself living my life. Like I was out of my own body or looking through a television or something. Turns out this feeling is quite common with depression.

I wonder if it's connected with these out of body experiences? You know, you didn't just have a spiritual experience, you're just depressed dude. Maybe there are miserable monks everywhere. Or maybe those of us with depression are approaching enlightenment... actually, if being depressed is close to enlightenment, maybe that's not something to strive for.

That small work for hire project I mentioned in my last post is officially dead. Which leaves me with a void. An uncertainty. Actually a certainty - that I have nothing to go on to.

I'm throwing my all into the project I'm on. Everything I have is going into that, hence the infrequent updates. It's making me a little bit crazy. Nothing seems good enough right now and those few elements that do seem good enough, I'm wondering if they are too polished for the spirit of the show. I'm constantly second-guessing myself right now.

Susan informed me that it was Suicide Prevention Day yesterday. I missed it. But, if you're reading this, you prevented a suicide yesterday simply by living so well done to you. To some, that may seem flippant but, to others, that achievement doesn't come so easily.

Be good to those people.

The downfall of the bears

Yes, this is where our modern world would do all it can to bugger up Susan's excellent bears for pills exchange plan.

While those particular cities wouldn't be the only ones to fall, I'm pretty sure they would be the first. People who live in any one of them for a length of time without topping themselves should get a special 'survivor' bear.

I once took an open-top bus tour in Glasgow. Attractions included a car park and some homeless people rummaging through bins.

It rained.

It's the way forward

The lovely Susan, over at her blog (If You're Going Through Hell Keep Going) wrote - "the world would be a better place if there were no pills to make us better, but just teddy bears".

Well, I adore that idea.

I don't trust the pharamceuticals industry. They're too big. They have too much money to make and to lose to let ethics get in the way of a sale. A bit of Googling and I'm sure I'd find some nice juicy examples to illustrate that but I'm purposely trying to avoid such things, you know, so I don't get depressed.

The history of psychiatry is a horrific one. Had I been born 50 years ago, I could well have had some quack jamming a metal rod into my brain to purposely damage it in the name of psychiatry. I'm not convinced much has changed.

And there are too many people with much to gain by keeping those of us with a tedency to actually see the ills of the world in a medicated haze.

But a world of teddy bears, well, that's an idea I can get behind. Fluffy warm teddy bears. They can prescribe a nice mug of hot chocolate too.

I'd like that.

Chapters

I'm not in familiar locations right now, hence a slowdown in posts and an earlier failed attempt to post from my iPod Touch. This post probably would have been too long to type on that anyway. Well, back at a laptop, I have more empty pages to stare at as I attempt to start this script but, of course, empty pages aren't always bad.


I've always hated deadlines. I respect them. I never miss them. But I hate them. They are like this oncoming train and you're standing right on the tracks, trying to build a wall strong enough to stop it before it crushes you.

I've often thought it would be great to have a day to day job. You know, like retail, or something. There are plenty of them - jobs that aren't easy by any means but you've succeeded if you survive the day and you just start it all over again the next day. There are no major events that will make or break you. You can do your day's work, go home and that's it.

Could well be a 'greener grass' thing.

But one thing about long projects and deadlines is that they give you some clear chapter breaks in your life. Time to pause. To re-evaluate. And the opportunity to start fresh.

A major chapter break happened when I moved from advertising to children's programming. I had been diagnosed with depression, was on meds but was really in a bad place. Like, worse than I think anyone including myself knew. It's only looking back on it now that I can know that. And say it. It was a dark time. One way or another, my life was going to change. I didn't know if I'd survive that change. I didn't know if anyone would be with me if I did.

The big problem with depression is that it clouds everything. You can't trust anything in your own mind and that is a frightening prospect. It's dangerous to make any big moves based on clouded judgement and yet a complete change just might be that thing that lifts you.

But I was coming to the end of something.

I took a break. Somewhere, deep down, I think I knew I could never make another ad. They were pointless soul-destroying blots on society, cancers pushed by corporations upon corporations. If you follow the chain of ownership long enough, anyone you work for will turn out to be pure evil. What they were destroyed any and all artistic merit. They were filth.

My last ad was for a product by a company owned by Pfizer.

I was finished.

My career could have ended right there. I was lost. And then life just gave me a break. Said, this guy's had enough, let's give him something better. Things happened simultaneously - meds kicked in doing their thing, I had a break, a holiday that helped take me away from my previous life and, best of all, I was handed the opportunity to work on a children's show that I loved.

And a chapter ended. A new one began.

With the end of the last project, one that wasn't all that enjoyable spread over a very tough year for me, it brings with it a new chapter end. A complete close. A complete new start. We're well into 2009 now but I think only now can I really say goodbye to 2008. Only now can I let it go.

And so I begin again. I wouldn't get that clean a break working in a shop, would I?

I'm done

This image doesn't really relate to anything, except my own feelings on the use of the term 'black dog' for depression. I mean, who doesn't love dogs?

I'm finished.

This project is finally done. Over. I am currently a free agent. I need to sleep. Lots of sleep. It really wasn't fun. It was a pain in the ass all the way to be honest. I can't think of a project I've worked on that has been as tough as this. Maybe I'm just getting old.

But, you know what? I had to watch all the finished episodes over the last few days and it's actually a pretty damn good show. Better than it has any right to be.

But good or bad, the important thing is that it's finished.

Finally.

What I saw

Tiny specs in space. Lives appearing and then vanishing without a trace and barely a memory. Are they even lives? Is it not just a burst of activity, our thoughts, feelings, desires all just by-products of a system simply to get us moving and procreating?

As key to the Universe as the brief life of a sperm on some hastily-grabbed tissue somewhere.

I was thinking this... seeing this, thinking about the nothingness and I knew - this is not a good road of thought to follow. It does not lead to a good place. But, nevertheless, that's what I saw.

Yet, when actually I came to draw it, as empty and pointless as the feeling was I was trying to illustrate, I couldn't help noticing just how beautiful that infinite nothingness around us is. And I can't come even close to capturing it. Maybe, from out there, I would see that rock, that pebble, is beautiful. And, if that's the case, we're all part of it - each of us, one tiny paint stroke that, together, makes up a wonderful canvas.

Emotions and creativity

I think it might be just fatigue and work stress and the difficulties around that right now but I'm finding myself ever so slightly emotional at the moment. More specifically, I keep welling up at the thought of a short film idea I haven't written and will likely never make. Every time I think of it, well, this happens.

It's hard to know what to make of that.

I think I'll only know for sure when my life is a little more clear. When I've had a break, if the thought of that short film ends with the same reaction, I may be on to something. If not, it was a reaction to stress and nothing more.

Though I do think it's a good sign in one way. I have been creatively dead for a while now and I figured it would take this project finishing and a large gap before anything creative came back. But it seems things are happening in my little brain. Strange things.

Panic

What's odd in situations of panic is that my depression is never an issue. I remember years ago, when I was going through a bad patch (like, a really bad patch), I was just about to start a fairly big project and I had in important role in it.

I was asked by someone involved, who knew about my problems, if I'd be able to do it, what with the depression and all. Would I crumble?

I said no, of course not.

But I was really thinking yeah, I'm pretty sure I will but I need this project.

Not only did I not crumble but, once I was in the thick of it, the depression was put to one side and never became an issue. The more stressful it got, the more I'd initially be sent into panic, which isn't good, but that panic would always be followed by a feeling of action - the need to overcome challenges. In a way, I found myself thriving on the panic because it gave me very clear goals and, as it turns out, I'm not bad in a crisis.

Panic is where I'm at right now.

And it's not all that bad.

BONUS: Today's Reason To Be Angry (it's a Sky News link and you shouldn't click it if you are on the verge of depression, are already convinced human life is an abomination or, alternatively, if you are happy living in a bubble of complete delusion)

Living with Anger

The world is a shithole, yes. But I think the rage will help some of us survive it.

I often think that my depression is like an allergic reaction to the shit in the world. The world is a hideous place - full of greed, pain, suffering, war, violence, lies, domination, manipulation and worse. While these things are going on, while there are people out there suffering, of course we should expect a reaction. It makes total, complete and undeniable sense.

Those who go about their lives in ignorant bliss, they've got to be living in denial. Or plain out and out insanity.

But they are the people better equipped to go about their lives. Far better equipped than I am.

The solution, society's solution, is like taking paracetemol to mask a headache caused by a brain hemorrhage: medicate those displaying the symptoms.

I remember after the bombings in London several years back, people in government saying that the best thing is to go about your normal lives. Otherwise the terrorists have won. But who really wins by us burying our heads and not looking up? Who wins by keeping us asleep? Keeping us ignoarant? Supressing that anger, that disgust?

There are people afraid that society will wake up.

Afraid that society will go off their meds. Their televisions. Their drugs. Their beer. Their sport. That we'll wake up. And that, when we do, we're going to be angry. Really angry. Because we have every reason to be.

But here's the thing - those things that make us angry? We'll be able to do something about them. We'll be able to look at something, think that pisses me off, I'm going to make it better and then actually act on it. Make a difference. You can't act on anything while going about your 'normal life' because that living that life means shutting out all of that crap in the world. Pretending it doesn't exist.

Which is better - living a happy life pretending that everything is fine when it's not, or realising the world is full of shit, being angry about it and working to change it? If more people took the time to get angry, perhaps there would be less to be angry about.

Or maybe we'd just piss each other off. Nothing worse than a room full of angry people.

I'm wishing for a better world.

I think I'm going to need a bigger box

Last night I had a dream I was in this huge castle. There was this grand entrance hall filled with artefacts - swords, rare animal skins (or maybe dinosaur skins), chalices and the like and a whole bunch of doors. Everything was marked with chips, gouges and signs of battle.

In my dream, I knew that this was the place that Conan the Barbarian and an evil Sorceror Emperor had fought time and time again. An endless struggle.

Only not endless. There was just one untouched door. I went up to have a look, knowing that this area would be the last place they would fight - in there was where Conan would finally kill the Emperor.

And just as I reached the door, I turned to see him coming up the stairs. Conan was coming to kill me.


I wonder if there will be a time where we'll be charged to use copyrighted characters in our dreams? The worst will be when they start beaming ads into our dreams. I have no doubt that, at some point, that will happen. "We interrupt Conan Versus the Emperor to bring you this word from our sponsors."

Yeah, that's coming.

Enjoying the 'Me' Time

The down sides, however, are few and far between. There's nothing like a bit of alone time. I get to catch up on those little projects I've been working on. I can listen to music everyone else hates. I can eat a chocolate bar for lunch.

What's not to like?

My 'me' time

It is usual to get through the week by looking forward to the weekend. Okay, so that's wishing your life away but it's a proven strategy that works. But when weekends become as tough as the weekdays, what is there to look forward to? My mind tells me that it should still be the weekend but, bloody hell, the weekends are tough going.

So I look forward to the old twosies. It's my alone time. My me time.

I'm finding it tough at the moment. I think I'm going a bit crazy. This is where I think I need a dog. Even if your dog is the cause of stress (like wanting to go for a pee at 4 in the morning), you can tell him that without it coming back to haunt you later. And, when things are crap, you can give him a hug and you can talk or not talk to him if you like. And he won't then answer back with the blindingly obvious. This is why dogs are great and why I miss my old friend. I need a puppy.

I guess I can look forward to retirement. If I live that long.

I think I hate... stuff. Just generally.

Oh, happy Father's Day to all you fathers out there. Hope your day isn't tantrum-filled.

Withdrawal

It's pretty hard to describe in words but it's something like this anyway. A slight dizziness and a fizzy feeling. I can't remember from the last time how long it lasts.

The thing about coming off depression medication, which isn't all that different to being on it, is that you question things - am I feeling this way because of the withdrawal? Or the depression kicking in? When you're on meds, you wonder if you're really yourself of if it's the meds.

It's no-win, I guess.

But, you know, sometimes depression can make you feel like things are shit. But, as I said in one of my earliest posts here, sometimes it's simply the fact that life is shit. It's not depression. Not some chemical imbalance. Not withdrawal. It's just that things are not the way you want them to be and life is not satisfying. In that case, pills would just mask the symptoms and not tackle the problem.

The difficulty is that you can never tell if it's the depression or life itself that is the problem.

My Unmedicated Cartoon Life

As some of you may know, I have been on Lexapro for depression (that's the 'medicated' part of the blog title). Having a glance again at some of the listed side effects, I noticed 'taste perversion' is listed.

What an odd description. Taste... perversion.

Like there are magazines devoted to this stuff that you can only find in the dingiest of porn shops.

Anyway, the reason I was going through the leaflets is that I have decided to go off the meds. I was on Lexapro years ago and felt it made a big difference. This time, not so much. Unlike the previous time, I'm not sure I needed them to begin with and I didn't actually feel they helped me.

So now the great unmedicated experiment begins.

My daily suicide attempt

Does this count as suicide?

I reckon the whole cholesterol thing is a complete myth. I had high cholesterol, completely revised my diet on doctor's orders, then had it tested six months later and my cholesterol had actually gone up.

Weird that killing yourself instantly is considered suicide but killing yourself through poor eating, drinking or whatever isn't. Maybe it's the intent that's important. Is there a self equivalent of manslaughter?