Depression, Failure, and a Big Ass Bag of Privilege

One more post to help normalize acknowledging and addressing depression.

Note: I am not looking for a diagnosis, but rather, I’m using my platform to share my story, hoping it may speak to others. If it does, you are seen.

I was not sure what was going on, but for the past many months, I have felt off. Sure, I have gone through periods where I have been more unfocused, more irritable, and even just plain sad, but it has become clear that this season is different. I have been more reactionary to loved ones, my sleep and energy have been wonky, and I have found myself moving through more manic episodes than usual.

And just like other times in my life, I tried to justify, even romanticize, these moments with the familiar and dangerous narratives —

It’s “just” the season.

Pushing and powering through is a measure of my commitment and strength.

Others are far worse off so what do I have to be anxious, stressed, or depressed about?

This is just a phase, I’ll be fine just as soon as [x] is over.

I can handle this on my own.

Even more confusing to me and others is that I have been functioning just fine. My external work, public ministry, and casual interactions have not suffered (I think), but when I am alone, my spirit has been slogging through the mud. I am grateful for those times of clarity and that I am not debilitated, but as cheesy as it is, I have felt like I walk out with the survival smiley face held up for the world to see while behind it — I am less than joy-filled.

All this goes to say that some relationships have taken notice, and I have taken notice. Knowing that there is a history of depression and bipolar (addressed and unaddressed *deep sigh*) in my family, I am acutely aware of the ramifications of not acknowledging the signs of depression and, when obvious, not addressing them. With all of this swirling in my brain like a pack of bees, this past week, I again entered into a conversation with a professional (Thank you Kaiser healthcare) to figure out what was going on. This is not my first time doing this, but it does not make it any easier.

I was reminded again that noticing signs earlier rather than later is essential. Thankfully, my bipolar has not reached a threshold of concern, but my depression, while slight, is authentic and in need of some attention. I will continue my meetings, but we are holding off on medication while I try some other things to address possible root causes. It’s been years since I have been in this kind of therapeutic setting, and it was good.

And yet.

Sometimes, I feel like I am failing others, losing myself, or being weak.

I have had to give some things up because my aforementioned public “functionality” has been vastly better than my internal professional and personal work and commitments. I postponed a book project, commitments at home are piling up, and my creativity has come to a grinding halt.

Stymied, stuck, and slogging, oh my.

Intellectually, I know that I will be fine, and, as I will mention later, I have the resources within my circle to address everything. But sometimes knowing and believing are very different, especially for this overachieving, eldest child, Enneagram 3, high-revving, human doing being. To be sure, especially after long covid, I am way better about productivity, meritocracy, and accolades being the main drivers in my life, but what is clear is that I will never fully shed those motivations. They are always lurking in some corner of my mind, waiting for the right moment to come out and whisper, “Your worth is based on what you accomplish” into my ear.

Which leads me to be so grateful for the realities and privileges in my life.

I am grateful —

• For collectives that continually remind me that engaging in loving community is the only way we will survive and thrive in this world.

• For those who have paved the way to make it “easier, culturally and institutionally, to acknowledge and address mental, spiritual, and emotional struggles.

• For healthcare and mental health resources that are accessible because of generational wealth and socioeconomic privilege.

• For the financial resources to maintain my physical practices and mental health disciplines.

• For the freedom to explore creative ways to address possible causes.

• For gracious, empathetic, and thoughtful friends and colleagues.

• For loved ones who gently hold these seasons of life with and for me.

Like many before me who live with these seasons, if you have interacted with me in the past months, you may not noticed anything different about me. This is one reason that I am sharing this today. For so many who interact in the public square and engage in public ministry, our front-facing expressions are genuine, but those interactions do not define our entire world. To be clear, I know that I am not the first one, I am not the only one, and I will not be the last one to know and experience this reality.

If any of this resonates with your experience, I take great comfort in knowing that we see one another and that we are loved.

Peace to you.