i feel like i open each of these newsletters with the same few sentences, or maybe the same few sentences clank around in my head. these past few months have been a big low for me; rather than just a general gray lull, this stretch of depression is deep and all-encompassing. it seems like the last few weeks of employment had wound me the tightest i have ever been, questioning every bit of self-value i had built in the past thirty years, pushing me deeper and deeper into the shallow binary of good vs. bad morality. every mistake i made was bad. every success was expected, not celebrated. i either broke even or went into deep deficit in this binary—i felt like i never had done anything that could categorize me as “good”.
i’ve been going to therapy once a month since february and although i’m moving towards two months of unemployment now, i feel like i’ve done the most amount of work towards myself than i ever have, even cumulatively. i told my therapist that although this may be the deepest depression i’ve found myself in, i’ve really turned inward—almost to the point of turning myself inside-out—and have dissected the way i interact and feel in certain situations. and my therapist responded in a way i had never heard before. she said, “it sounds like you feel like you’re at your lowest low. while you’re there in that valley, it makes sense for you to walk around and explore!”
i kid you not, i was speechless for about a minute. whenever i hear the word “depression”, i immediately think that i need to be doing everything to get out of it, to claw my way up. rather than seeing depression as this deep, narrow well, it can actually be as vast as the dark ocean floor. according to the national geographic, over 80 percent of the ocean has been left unexplored, unseen. we’ve explored more of the surfaces of the moon and mars, respectively, than we have our own ocean floor. even in this example, as a collective, we’ve taken more great measures to reach the stars, rather than scanning the dark depths of our own home.
ever since this therapy session, i’ve been conscious of feeling sad. like i pointed out in the newsletter about maslow’s hierarchy of needs, my outward-reaching creative drive has gone down. i feel almost ambivalent towards my writing projects, even though my drive before was basically pedal to the metal. like i said previously, i find most of my effort and energy moving inward, building up my most basic tier of this pyramid of needs. i’m finding that not only is this tier built based on being able to finance a roof over my head, feeding me and my dog, making sure i drink enough water, etc. i’m also trying to build myself a good mental foundation, so that whenever i find employment again, i know where my equilibrium lies and i can sense a deviation better. and whenever i deviate, i can focus on doing things to move myself back towards this sort of homeostasis i’ve established for myself.
my days have been filled with cuddling my dog, feeling out emotions rather than immediately intellectualizing them, and rearranging my home. i’ve been interacting more and more with my insecurities and figuring out what voice speaks to me whenever i feel anxious. i’m not a marine biologist or an ocean expert at all, but i’m sure that within the depths of the ocean floor, there are caves, valleys, canyons scattered throughout—there is an opportunity to explore deeper in the depths of the ocean. i have this opportunity to explore deeper in the depths of my depression. what can i discover while i’m down here? i know that i can’t go any lower than this and that this is where i’m at right now, i might as well walk around and see what else i can find, right?
humans have existed on earth for over 300,000 years and yet, we’re only fully aware of 20 percent of the ocean. i’ve existed on this earth for a little over 30 years and i’m realizing that there are still caverns and dips within me that i have not yet fully become familiar with. the deeper and deeper i go, the more fully aware i am of the space that i occupy and move through.
with that, as a housekeeping announcement, i am making this newsletter free and am turning off the payment option. i am so appreciative of everyone that paid for the past couple of months and am so touched that you’ve wanted to support me. however, in my heart of hearts (heart of the ocean…?) i morally cannot continue to take any payment, even if it’s voluntary! if i become more confident in my material, maybe i’ll turn the pay option back on. but for y’all that have stuck around through all of my ups and downs, i just appreciate that you continue to be here.