Getting out of the downs

When I had my annual wellness checkup, the doctor gave me good news and bad.

Good news: the doctor said it was time to take me off my antidepressant. Something you don’t just do cold turkey – that can make your body go through weird side effects. So, you taper off until you realize you have one less pill in the pillbox.

Bad news: the doctor gave me three random things to remember. A few minutes later, at her prompting, I remembered one, got one partially right, and totally spaced out on the third. Time to set you up for dementia testing. What?! How depressing! Funny how I could recall the third one – the spacy one – days later. Threaten my brain with dementia testing and it perks right up, thank you! (No need for alarm here; doing just fine so far.)

I’d been on depression meds for years. A mild dose, they’d said, but a dose nonetheless. Something about chemical depletion after decades of trying to fight PTSD from childhood trauma.

By this last annual checkup, much progress had been made. I still felt down at times, though fewer and farther in between and much less severe. Generally, I was feeling balanced, happy, joyful even, which is why the doctor sensed it was time to go off the meds. While on them, I’d learned to deal with those downs. I’d note those times when the downs came on, do certain things, tell myself I’d see differently in the morning, and take life one day at a time.

When we were overseas doing work I loved, visitors often said their 2 weeks coming to help us were the highlight of their year – implying we, on the other hand, had 52 weeks of highlights every year, just because we were at their go-to destination. What I wanted to tell them was that we also had our own two-weeks-out-of-the-year highlights. Normally, though, challenges, crises, complications, and nose-to-the-grindstone stuff felt like anything but. Yet it was the grindstone stuff that made possible the highlights – theirs and ours.

Life, Forrest Gump famously said, is like a box of chocolates. “You never know what you’re gonna get.”

Maybe you spit out the chocolates you don’t like. But life doesn’t always offer that option. Sometimes you just have to swallow the bitter pill.

I know people say that if life serves you lemons, make lemonade. Sometimes the lemonade is way too tart. I just want to have a better perspective on whatever situation I’m facing, and I can’t always find that better perspective at the ready. So, I’ve learned to drink way-too-tart lemonade – and grin and bear it.

What is not okay is using destructive coping mechanisms that make you feel worse. Certain options, like drugs or alcohol, are addictive and bad for your health. Others, while also addictive, are not quite as bad, like biting your fingernails to the pain maybe.

But there are positive coping activities you can do that are helpful, habit-forming without being harmful or becoming addictive. Unlike the good stuff, addictions tend to require more and more of the thing until it takes over your life. Like cleaning your house 24/7. Not my addiction.

Helpful habits not only don’t take over, they kinda flow because you can do them habitually, meaning without a lot of thought. Cooking an unfamiliar recipe is exhausting for me. Cooking my mother’s goulash recipe for the gazillionth time? Zero brainpower. Such activities are helpful because, one, they don’t become obsessive and, two, they do help your brain move on.

For example, I generally like to wash the dishes in the evening, get the kitchen cleaned up. Though it doesn’t take much thought and it doesn’t take long, it gives me a sense of accomplishment – it certainly doesn’t lead to 24/7 housecleaning and is much less a downer than a dirty, crowded sink in the morning.

Habitual or otherwise, certain actions slow, stop, or even reverse downers. I may do them only when I am feeling down, or they may be more common go-to activities.

Here are several that have worked for me:

1. Sit. Sit with the feeling. What my therapist taught me. What are you feeling, he’d ask? We have three basic down feelings, he’d say – sadness, anxiety, and anger. If you are feeling sad, sit with that thought. Not necessarily thinking about what makes you feel sad, because often what you think makes you feel sad isn’t what is really making you feel sad (see #6 on that). Just sit with the thought that you are sad.
   
   
2. Write. About what you are feeling. About what causes you pain. About things totally unrelated. I write these days for a living – not that I make any money off my writing. But I do have an extended time for writing, generally in the mornings, when I’m less likely to be sad. Yet sometimes what I am writing about flows out of a sense of sadness I recall from the evening or some other time before. Like this post. In any case, writing can be therapeutic.
   
   
3. Get outside. Take a walk. Do yard work. Find a bench and sit and watch the world go by. Fresh air is good. Can’t get outside? Find a window and look out. Incarcerated with no windows? Maybe picture one??? I learned long ago that getting somewhere where I can see a long way off does wonders for me – even if it’s only in my mind.
   
   
4. Move. Find routines that get you moving, that disconnect your mind from whatever it’s hanging onto. Physical routines get your blood flowing, maybe get you breathing more heavily. I take walks or hikes, swim laps, do yardwork, tinker in my shop. Other than for those with severe mobility issues, even the simplest of physical activity can go a long way. I’m not a physical therapist, so I can only suggest so much.
   
   
5. Connect. I’m not talking party scene here, so don’t panic, introverts. For me connecting means sitting, chatting easy with another, hearing their thoughts, exchanging stories. That’s why I like coffee shops (if not the coffee) or my back deck (throw in #3). For others, it might be talking via phone with a loved one. Even writing an old friend can be helpful. Best a conversation that’s unstressful, uplifting.
   
   
6. Dig. This one is really a long-term project and best guided by a trained therapist. Dig into what is bugging you. Not just the obvious, but what makes the obvious bothersome. That situation set you off? What about it triggers you? I did a lot of digging with my therapist. Painful, it was. Deeply painful. But it taught me what to expect under the surface. Nowadays, I don’t have to dig as much. I just look for the markers and remember where the dead bodies are buried.
   
   
7. Rest. I love the story of Elijah, the prophet, who’s just experienced one of the greatest victories in his life and now he’s being hunted down by his archenemy. You can read all about it in 1 Kings 18-19. He’s overwhelmed. He runs till he collapses. God doesn’t say, “Get a ladder and get over it.” God says, “Take a nap and have a snack.” His snack host happens to be an angel. You may be short on angels, or maybe overeating is what’s stressing you out. But you can rest and make sure you’ve eaten enough of the right thing not to be low on blood sugar. Then rest some more.
   
   
8. Cry. It’s okay to cry, guys. Do it where no one can see you, if you must, but just do it. There was a season in my life when I couldn’t cry. I refused to be drawn into the drama of manipulative criers. I held the tears back for so long, I forgot how to cry. Then one day I fell in love with crying all over again. What a release! While I don’t cry that intensely these days, I’m no longer afraid to get my eyes wet over a soppy story or a goosebumpy song – or the daily toll of human suffering.
   
   
9. Hum. They say it’s difficult to hum and think certain thoughts at the same time, like it jams up the roadways of your mind. Apparently humming forces a break in mental operations – in a good way. Singing does something similar and can be even more therapeutic. For me, it is, especially so in a worship setting where it’s okay to sing out loud. But singing can be intrusive, like on a bus or a plane. Well, I guess humming can be, too, but maybe you can get away with it if you hum softly enough. Better yet, find your own space to hum.
   
   
10. Meditate. Ponder. Contemplate. Pray. Reflect. Not necessarily about what’s troubling you (see #6 for that), but about things outside of your momentary – or not so momentary – challenges. Think thoughts bigger than you and your problems, namely God and God stuff – like scripture, creation, redemption, eternity. There’s a reason the enslaved thought a lot about heaven. More than mere euphemism or essential code wording, eternity gave them hope that their present sufferings would not last forever. You can write your meditations down (see #2) or just ponder then in your heart, as Mary the mother of Jesus did.

So when I come to day’s end and I’m moving into melancholy, I note that I’m feeling a bit down. Maybe it’s dark out already – tends to get dark early and long in our Pacific Northwest winters. Summers here are glorious, but darkness still comes. Maybe I’m just physically and mentally tired from a long day. I’ve shifted out of stuff to do but not yet shifted into something new. Options on my to-do list don’t fit right now. If nothing else, I can just sit (see #1), if just for a moment.

If I don’t sit first – and instead jump into activity like watching a movie, looking at my phone, engaging with people, reading a book – I miss an important step. The pause is what I need. I pause and identify how I am feeling (“down a bit”), talk to myself (“you’re feeling down a bit”), note the pattern (“it’s evening, the time of day when I am more likely to feel down”), note the likely outcome of the pattern (“I tend to feel better in the morning”), and then remind myself that it’s okay to feel sad (“it’s okay to feel sad”).

Sometimes when I’ve forgotten my go-to list above, including and especially #1, I can find myself sliding deeper. But I’ve been there, done that, and know I don’t like to go there. Occasionally I can’t help myself. Generally, now that I’ve been through therapy and learned helpful coping mechanisms, I find that recognizing the sadness is enough and I don’t slide deeper. Then it’s okay to divert my attention with a movie, phone, people, or book.

A caution about phones or alternative forms of internet. They can be a trap. Doesn’t even have to be anything as sinister as porn. Recognize what is trapping for you and enforce predetermined limits – amount of time, type of entertainment. For me, good entertainment can be watching singing auditions (especially those with tear-jerky or funny stories), or (clean) stand-up comedy sketches, or full-throttled worship choirs. Or just reading other people’s inane memes – never mind, some of those are depressing.

One more thought. Though I do coaching, I’m no therapist. Two different things. So, if you are struggling, I encourage you to find a therapist, talk to a pastor, engage with a healthy church, or reach out to a good listening friend. But I am willing to pray, to lift you up, as I like to say. You are welcome to contact me here and ask me to put you on my lifting-up list. I promise to take you to the Throne of Grace.

Photo credit: “Rainy evening” by Victoriia, Adobe Stock #1103939203