It happened several years ago, but I remember it like it was yesterday. My depression was too much for me and I tried to end it by taking my own life. The physical sensations, mental activity, emotions, and spiritual desolation were the deepest I had ever experienced. I thought it was the deepest anyone could go and the only way out was suicide.

I was wrong. I have since been much deeper in every way – physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual. I am currently in the deepest depression of my life. It has been going on for five months now, yet I don’t feel overwhelmed at all. The level of depression that once almost killed me now seems like a walk in the park. So does this one. Since it doesn’t overwhelm me or control my reactions to it, I wonder: Am I even depressed at all?

This video is a segment of a one-hour DVD based on the book Bipolar In Order: Looking At Depression, Mania, Hallucination, And Delusion From The Other Side.

\”I Love My Bipolar Hallucinations\” on YouTube

Although most people who experience delusions and hallucinations react to them in negative ways, it seems that the definition may be creating a false linkage. It could be that hallucinations and delusions are the only symptoms, and everything else is a reaction to these states. Is it true that the only possible reactions to hallucinations and delusional thoughts are adverse ones? My experience says the answer is no. It seems wrong to link the symptoms and reactions together as if there are no other possible reactions. By calling it a disorder, hallucinations and delusions are commonly seen entirely in a negative light.

I heard the beautiful writer Louise Erdrich speaking to Bill Moyers on television last night. My ears perked up when she said something that I had been thinking a lot about. The gist of what Erdrich said was that she wanted her children’s lives to be routine, to be safe–but she knew that she could not protect her children from pain and suffering in the world and it was through that pain and suffering that they grew. Erdrich said that in spite of the ferocity of the protectiveness of mothers, their safety nets are never whole or complete.

What I had been thinking myself was that we often want for our children what they would never want or accept for themselves—sameness, ordinariness, safety, security. Many of us wouldn’t want to pay that price for security for ourselves either. When we say we want to protect our children from pain and suffering, it’s interesting to think about what that might look like in everyday life. I imagine it could look quite horrific and involve us parents taking over and appropriating larger and larger parts of our children’s lives and identities even into adulthood, denying them their own choices, mistakes, and experiences of the world.

I got some interesting feedback on my recent post about A New Perspective, so I tried posting the same video and article on LinkedIn to see what they think. It was very interesting how that community responds completely differently (and a great future topic to post about), but one particular comment struck a cord with me that I have not been able to let go of. It has me thinking a lot about what depression feels like and how we define it.

I find the comment to be a pretty accurate reflection of what I have heard quite often — “No matter how well I handle an episode, depression causes me to have difficulty concentrating, darkens my perspective, makes me isolate from others, and creates problems with my perception of time … not to mention that the worldview from my sofa is decidedly limited.” While I think it is a great example of the standard point of view, what sticks out for me is “depression causes me.” I wrote a chapter in Bipolar In Order called “The Definitions Are Not Definitive” and think that the quote perfectly makes my point: the definitions are so unclear as to be confusing.

Carbohydrates. These are probably the most misunderstood of all the nutrients, due in great part to the latest diets, like Atkins, that advocate low- or no-carb eating plans. But you absolutely need carbohydrates in order to perform your best both physically and mentally throughout the day. The type of carbs you eat, and when you eat them, has a lot to do with getting that hard body.

When ingested, carbohydrates are broken down into simple sugars, or glucose, and are either used by the body right then and there for energy or are stored in the muscles and the liver as glycogen. When your body runs out of ready glucose and glycogen, it begins to use protein from your muscles to fuel it’s daily functions. To avoid this catabolic state and keep from eating your muscles for breakfast, you need to have a steady intake of carbohydrates in your diet. There is a saying that goes, “fat burns in the flame of carbohydrates,” meaning that when you have enough carbs in your system but not too much, your body will use fat for fueling daily functions and activities instead of muscle tissue, therefore keeping you from becoming catabolic, meaning your body is feeding off your own muscle tissue.

Here is a phrase I included in a previous entry: “I doubt many people have experienced longer lasting or more severe depression than me (though a multitude have it just as bad).”

Following decades of struggle, and after trying numerous methods to ‘cure’ my depression, I finally found relief through acceptance. I still get depressed, but an embracing attitude has made the low times more enjoyable. Ironically, stopping the fight against depression has lessened the depth, frequency, and duration of my mood crises. (As an addendum placed after this entry was first posted, I want to point out that it takes more than just acceptance to reach true peace, including things like frequent exercise, regular sleep, and meditation. But acceptance is the most important step.)

By claiming my past depression to be as bad as almost anyone’s, I had hoped to reassure those who believe their despair too awful to accept, or their moods too dark to permit any enjoyment of life. I meant to imply, “If I can find peace, then anyone can.”

However, I felt uncomfortable with the sentence, and it turned out my instinct was correct: the phrase rubbed at least one person the wrong way. A portion of that reader’s comment follows:

I facilitate a support group for people with mental conditions along with those who love and support them. Several of us have years of experience of functioning while depressed. The other day we were exploring what it feels like to be deeply depressed instead of making it go away. We were describing depression much like my “Art Of Seeing Depression” article when the topic of watching movies while depressed came up. It brought up interesting ideas that I hope you will share your insights about.

We started calling out favorite movies to watch while depressed, like The Hours or What Dreams May Come, and started joking about why would we want to watch comedies during depression. Somebody said that if others heard us they would be shocked. When asked why, the conversation turned to what we thought most people would think.

How do you make purchasing decisions? Are you aware of your “moment” of choice, the “click” in the brain, to buy or not to buy? What happens in the moments before your hand reaches for your debit card, cash or credit card?

I began exploring how I make purchasing decisions and became fascinated with my own process in relation to the new field of neuroeconomics, the field of studying the brain circuits behind the financial choices people make!

Take the four-foot head of the Buddha that hangs on the towering wall in my foyer. I looked and looked for a wall piece like this for over two years. I started out with an idea of what I wanted. Something serene, spiritual and a piece of art that spoke to my soul. I began the hunt. I searched the net, visited galleries and many specialty stores. I found nothing that was “just right.” Then, unexpectedly, during the wine and art festival in my hometown, I found it. The moment I saw the Buddha head, I fell in love with it and I knew it was the perfect piece of art I was looking for. My purchase decision took less than a minute and cost didn’t enter into the picture. My “knowing it was the right piece” trumped cost. Then rationalized thought came in, “You will not find another piece that speaks to you so strongly, buy it now, it might not be here later and you will figure out how to make the cost work.” When I reached for my cash and then asked how much it was, I was totally surprised that the cost was under $300. If it had been over $1,000, I still would have bought it. I knew it was the “right” piece.