Chronicles of a Late Bloomer

I just walked out of a session with a teenaged client who cycles in and out of depression. Over the past 2 years, we’ve managed to even out her roller-coaster existence into a series of shallow dips. Without the drama of violent mood swings, however, she’s now being expected to perform at a higher level. This, she complains, is annoying. She no longer receives special treatment when she’s feeling this way.

I counter her frustration with a bulleted list (of course). After all — we’ve been all over the psycho-socio-emotional reasons behind her depression. Big insight wasn’t the ticket tonight. She and her parents have made immense progress already and I felt that all she needed was a little fine tuning.

I explain that when she slides into the now-shallow valley of her mood cycle, she needs to rally the troops and do extra things in order to take care of herself. She has to fortify her defenses against the gravity of her depression to keep from sliding further down — to put extra effort into treading water so she doesn’t sink. The list of reminders that we develop together is so basic, so obvious, and motivational that I have sat at my desk for 15 minutes, reading and re-reading it.

1. Watch for signs and take action ASAP.
   
2. Sleep as much as possible.
   
3. Eat well.
   
4. Exercise.
   
5. Communicate and express in healthy ways.
   • Talk to friends and family.
   • Ask for what you need.
   • Don’t be afraid of the hard questions.
   • Write in your journal.
   • Be creative and make things.

The curse of being a therapist: it’s really hard to take your own advice. The blessing: you get slapped upside the head with it over and over and over again.

Inhale, close your eyes, exhale, stretch… April is over and May is a New Day.

Sure, the world came crashing down around me in April, but I also allowed myself to make a few critical errors. Here they are, for your voyeuristic enjoyment. (It’s like watching a wreck, isn’t it? You just can’t look away, and the bulleted lists just keep coming.)

• I asked too many people for advice. As much as I love to get other people’s perspectives on things and challenge my own, the tension of conflicting advice added more sense of uncertainty and desperation to a month packed with Unknowns.
  
• I lived too much in the future. For me, one sign of psychic trouble is that I start making big plans for the future, and getting caught up in the minutia of these imaginary plans. If I catch myself looking at apartment listings for another city, then I know I’m in trouble.
  
• I ignored my basic physical needs. I didn’t sleep enough, exercise, go on walks with the dog, or consider the nutritional quality of my intake at all (just the bulk and quantity of it). As a result, my energy dwindled, I became mildly depressed, and generally felt like garbage day in and day out. At a time when I could have used clarity of mind and a surplus of energy, I acted as though my brain resided in a disembodied head. Not helpful.
  
• I did not self-care. In spite of constantly lecturing my clients about self-care, I utilized none of my self-care secrets this month. I didn’t journal, paint, garden, walk the dog, or do anything besides call and talk with friends and loved ones (see above re: too much conflicting advice). I know better than that.
  

The good news is that MAY IS A NEW DAY. Just for today, I’m going to try to correct my mistakes. I will take things one step at a time. I will eat a veggie omelette for breakfast.

* * * UPDATED * * *

Behold, success! Veggie omelette smothered in green sauce with a side of strawberries. I’m a little late for work, but screw it. I needed the omelette for my morale alone. Hello, May. Welcome to my home, won’t you take a seat?