When The Darkness Persists
A brain dump about my depression and lack of "right now" connection
It was on a walk with my Dutch Shepard mix Honey when I realized that over the past few weeks, I have been more depressed than I thought I was. Not just a little blue or numb from the syrupy fog that clouds my head. The kind where I deeply feel the pain of insecurity rip through me and I double over with thoughts about how everyone in my life would be better off without me. Yikes.
Yeah, it has been dark.
I have been in this headspace before throughout the lower points in my life. While these feelings aren’t new, I still haven’t fully figured out how to handle them. I try to rationalize and think about how I have every reason in the world to be happy right now. I try to distract myself with time-intensive hobbies like crocheting and reading. I try to retail-therapy my way out of the darkness and convince myself that the Girl Scout scented deodorant at Target will boost my spirit. I run, walk, hike, and eat cake for breakfast. None of this really works because depressive thoughts aren’t rooted in reality.
The cheap dopamine rush I get from a quick scroll through my Instagram feed, the endorphins I get from running through the trees on trails blooming with green, the serotonin I get from the pills I swallow with oatmeal and coffee in the morning, sometimes these things aren’t enough. Deep down, the darkness persists and I feel nothing but hopeless and apathetic about what to do next.
What to do next. What do I do next?
Right now, I am in my mid-twenties. I am an older, non-traditional, undergraduate college student recovering from mental health issues. I have a family and people I love. Hiking and trail running are two activities where I feel the safest in the world, and where I feel the most like myself. As I try to navigate life like everyone else as best as I can, I find myself on the edge of the earth consumed with miswanting.
Miswanting is a term I’ve just recently come to know more intimately. It’s when your desires don’t necessarily match up with what will actually make you happy or fulfilled long term. People can feel miswanting in a variety of ways, but for me, it looks like making goals and focusing so intently on achieving them that I lose myself in the process. If I reach the goal, I often feel content for a few seconds and then my mind quickly shifts to the next obsession. If I don’t reach my goal, I'm overwhelmed with shame and use it as fuel to feed my depression.
These goals typically revolve around trail-related endeavors. I train eagerly for the next trail race only to feel empty at the finish line. I complete a hike, like I did with the Foothills Trail and various sections of the Ozark Trail, only to relish the joy until an inevitable crash in mood follows. What in the world is going on here?
For a long time, I equated this intense determination and cycle of setting expectations with meaningful purpose. I have always been told that purpose and meaning are good things. Having goals, moving toward something, and striving for more is good because it keeps us focused, motivated, and less likely to fall into the dark void. I still think this is true, but not all of it. Constantly looking and searching for more can be a dangerous game, so I wonder how much being happy and content with “right now” would make a difference.
Balance. I guess it’s really all about balance. Even just thinking about this term makes me unjustifiably angry because it’s not that simple. Healing is a process, an ungodly jagged process where piecing together the shards of your soul takes time. One trail run won’t get me there. One hiking trip won’t be enough to flip the switch in my brain and flood the darkness with light. But over time, I guess these little experiences can stack up and hopefully, I can pull myself out of the pit eventually.
One foot in front of the other. One therapy session at a time. Another mountain, a few miles of trail, and a smile from my dog when I come back home. A road trip, the arms of someone I love, and my feet inside well-used trail runners. The wick of a pine wood candle burning, fuzzy socks, and a lavender soy latte from the cafe down the street. Slowly finding the small joys and sitting with the present without trying to run away toward something else.
Will this make me happy? I don’t know.
I’ll let you know.
See you all out on the trail!
One day, one hour, one moment at a time. Hold on tight to this one beautiful and wild life ...
I can certainly relate to a lot of the feelings that you are experiencing because I often find myself feeling … actually I can’t even put it into words. Looking forward to taking Leslie appropriate hikes. I’m sorry that my friend who reminds me of sunshine has been surrounded by overcast skies and gloom. Hang in there Callie and remember that I’m always a text away.