It's Sunny but You're Not Smiling

"It's so unfair," said my friend the other night as tears streamed down his face. "On the surface I look like a like just a regular guy, but no one knows I am walking around with a disease that has me at its mercy." We were seated outside of a French brasserie on a sunny evening, one of those nights where everyone else was smiling except my dinner companion. If you have ever closely listened to the song "You're a Good Man Charlie Brown" you will understand why some would say that my friend is a lot like dear Ol' Chuck. A loveable lamenter, David is a good man with a heart of gold, but who is ultimately overpowered by his own depression, all because he is 42 and not married.

Or at least that is what he is choosing to believe rather than dealing with the vicissitudes of a serious and debilitating emotional illness.

I know because for a while I lived it. For me, marriage was not the impetus, but a series of disappointments in family, friends and lovers that ultimately forced me to shut down. Much like my friend David, I adopted the classic symptom set and allowed the bills and clothes to pile up, the calls to go unreturned and the care for self to be entirely neglected. In my case I would run, physically and emotionally, by spending hours on the tread mill and cities streets to stop the pain and avoid anymore of it from starting, and to keep anyone else from leaving or letting me down.

While it is important to deal with the past, I realize from my own experience that when you suffer from depression you tend to be more invested in the past than in the present or future. While I'm not a certified professional, I've observed that the one common theme for everyone who has eventually defeated or reconciled with this disease is that they all made some drastic changes to their lives in order to overcome it. This can include switching jobs or dwellings, changing one's circle of friends, getting involved in a new activity and seeking proper counseling and/or medication.

For me it was a little of all of the above, minus the medication. I moved from my dark and isolated third floor walk-up to a sun-filled high rise in the center of town. During the transition I had little time to focus on recurring negative thoughts, and within weeks my energy starting shifting.

For reasons I have explained and understand now, there was a very big part of me that was choosing to isolate myself. After a year or so of numbing myself, I opened up my heart again. And not just to the possibility of romantic love but to the joy which one gains from new friends, creative expression and a fulfilling job. I will say that for me the investment in happiness has been a lot easier than dealing with the fear of rejection, disappointment and failure that drained my mind.

I know now that changing what you do, how you live and who you let into your world can make the positive difference. And no matter how much I and everyone else loves Dear Ol' Chuck/David, only he can make the decision to get the help he needs. I just pray every single day he chooses to do it.