my mid-winter survival guide
my mid-winter survival guide
we can't go over it, we can't go under it (you know the rest)
I’ve been trying to find the appropriate opener to add the usual colour of personal context to my work. While I am good at pouring love and chaos and life into my writing, I’m not so sure how to creatively articulate my depression. Even prefixing the word ‘depression’ with the first-person possessive ‘my’ feels off. It feels out of place within the pastel, hyperpop world I have created for myself. Depression just doesn’t go with anything here.
But the reality is that sadness doesn’t exclusively occupy dark spaces; my depression is often at its peak first thing in the morning. The early bird catches the young woman hopelessly trying to get on with her day-to-day, I guess. I can throw the blinds open, am greeted by the sunniest of sunny days, and still can’t summon the energy to leave the confines of my bed.
The following is my own personal self-care guide, for when things feel bleak. It’s not sexy. You will find it lacking in shades of “millennial pink” and it doesn’t have the glossy sheen of many “self-care” regimes. This is simply an overview of what’s helped me make it from one moment to the next – aside from medical intervention and state-mandated therapy.
“The only way through is through”
This quickly became the strapline to my latest depressive episode. I would frequently sigh it (mostly to myself) whenever friends asked how I was getting on. One day at a time. The only way through is through. You can’t rush depression – it leaves whenever it pleases and it often overstays its welcome.
All there is to do, really, is weather the storm.
With grief, heartbreak, and depression there is no quick fix. There’s no scented candle, yoga pose, or vitamin supplement that’s going to make it all better. Even 50mg of sertraline, taken daily, has only taken the edge off. You just have to find ways to get from one moment to the next, from one day to another.
An inexhaustive list of things that have got me through:
Reconnecting with activities my younger self enjoyed. This includes picking crochet back up, playing piano, hammerbeading, playing The Sims 4, and collaging. In short: finding ways of being creative for fun, not for money or clout.
A hyper-specific playlist of songs that are neither alarmingly sad nor jarringly chirpy, featuring the likes of Julia Jacklin, Florence + the Machine, Courtney Barnett, and Indigo Girls.
Getting into running. I know, I’m sorry. I downloaded Strava and have been using it as a diaristic, shit-posting tool where I upload runs alongside some personal disaster that drove me out of the house.
Reading before bed. It doesn’t have to be high-brow literature and you don’t have to read more than a few pages, but always having a book on the go can be helpful if you’re the kind of person who, like me, begins existentially spiraling as soon as my head hits the pillow.
Rewatching Buffy the Vampire Slayer for the umpteenth time. My problems feel bad, but at least I’m not duty-bound to save the world. At least none of my lovers are (un)dead.
Finding easy, nutritious meals and building a routine around them. For months I had the same smoothie for breakfast every morning (banana, kefir yogurt, oats, and peanut butter) and then the same avocado on rye toast for lunch. This wasn’t particularly economical of me, but cramming some vitamins in early in the day, every single day, was a huge help.
Taking magnesium. I haven’t necessarily felt any tangible benefit to taking magnesium every night, but even just the simple act of taking a vitamin – in the name of my well-being – makes me feel a bit better. It’s an easy way to proactively take care of yourself.
Purchasing a packet of Dreamies and befriending local cats.
Deleting social media. Even on a good day, I find replying to text messages inexplicably overwhelming. For me, deleting Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook Messenger for a week was enormously helpful. As someone who struggles a lot with guilt and people-pleasing behaviours, it felt liberating to not agonise over the dozen unread messages sitting across various apps.
Taking an afternoon out to make an earth-shatteringly good butternut squash soup. I even crisped up some kale to put in there. I felt unstoppable. It was so delicious that I decided life was worth living. I’m being serious.
I can’t claim any of these tips to be life-saving (aside from the soup). Ultimately, what’s truly helped me has been patience and self-compassion. I tell myself “the only way through is through” and when consulting any mental checklist of “self-care strategies”, I remind myself that “something is better than nothing.”
Because the usual rules don’t apply to a depressive episode. You wouldn’t expect someone with a broken leg to complete a 100m sprint in the same amount of time as someone with two working legs. Don’t hold your depressed self to the same standards you would hold your regular self. Just don’t.
Having three potato waffles instead of a cigarette for dinner is a win. Spending 10-15 minutes crocheting, reading, or doing anything creative is a win – regardless of the output. Leaving bed before 3.00pm is a win.
Slowly, but surely, doing the tiny things (like choosing processed carbs over nicotine consumption) will give you the strength you need to do that little bit more.
For example, I got into running, with no clear goal in mind; at first, I could barely manage 2km. That’s okay. Getting outside is better than not getting outside and 2km is significantly better than 0km. Three months later I’m running 5km. Seeing the progress is fantastic, but I know there may be days ahead when 2km is all I can manage. And that’s okay. Progress isn’t always linear etc etc.
Equally, ‘getting into crochet’ didn’t mean taking on any kind of big project. I did tiny things, made granny squares and practised basic stitches – just something to do with my hands, creating something out of nothing, even if that something wasn’t really anything.
Because something is better than nothing. And if you keep doing something (however small that thing is, however imperfectly you do it), eventually you will start to feel the benefit, I promise. I’m not saying any of what I’ve listed above will immediately cure you of all your ills (it won’t), but everyone has to start somewhere.
The only way through is through.
Godspeed and lots of love.