I woke up this morning to a grey sky and cold air. After yesterday’s warm sunshine, the stark contrast convinced me to skip Jazzercise and stay in bed a bit longer.
Then I received some disappointing news. The nature of the news is irrelevant to this post. But to set any inquiring minds at ease, no one is in mortal danger and life is generally still fine; the news was just disappointing. And my brain revolted.
The trajectory I experienced upon hearing this news was:
- This news sucks.
- Therefore there’s not much of a reason to live.
Keep in mind the news was just disappointing, not earth-shattering or life changing. There are possible solutions to this news, even. But it didn’t matter–my depression-riddled brain does not care about logic or solutions in times like these. I imagine healthy-brained people do not always react in such a way; though I fully admit I’m assuming, since I don’t know what having a healthy brain is like. Maybe their trajectory is like this:
- This news sucks.
- But other things suck too.
- I wonder what I can do about this sucky news.
- Solution A
- Solution B
- Solution C
- One of these is bound to work.
- Nothing I can do about it now, so time for sushi and friends and things will work out.
Instead, I have to fight back with what I’ve learned from cognitive behavior therapy, and I did the following:
- I took a deep breath.
- I picked up a Cadbury creme egg (it was 9:30 a.m., and eggs are breakfast food after all).
- I put down the Cadbury creme egg, telling myself chocolate was not the answer right now.
- I looked at my calendar for the day and saw the following events:
- Lunch with friends
- Volunteering at a flood relief distribution center
- Hanging out with my niece
- Baseball opening day
- A new cookie recipe to try
- I took another deep breath.
- I decided to *not* cancel on lunch, volunteering, or my niece, even though I wanted to.
Then I fixed myself a dirty Diet Coke and got ready for my day.
It might seem like it was a simple exercise in mind over matter, but in truth, it was a Herculean effort. And while I distilled things into six steps there, it was probably closer to 18 steps total, because each major decision required multiple small decisions. That’s what it takes sometimes when my brain decides the depression is going to have A Day.
Lunch was great, volunteering was holy, the time with my niece was delightful (she’s my favorite–she told me so), the cookies delicious, and though the Braves lost, it’s opening day and there’s a thousand months of baseball until the playoffs.
Sometimes I forget how much progress I’ve made, how incrementally easier it is for me to recognize what my brain is doing and do the Necessary Things to stay healthy. So for that realization alone, I’m actually a little grateful for today’s disappointing news.