My illness was anxiety, which led to occasional depression. It was my depression that inspired me to start my blog, hoping it would help pull me up into the light. It did.
It almost killed me too. I needed to share it.
I even wrote a book about it, a self-published book called Out Of The Shadows. The book sold out, and then I gave away or destroyed all of the copies that I had, and I never mentioned the book or looked at it again.
I guess, to be honest, it just makes me too sad to recall being so sad. I learned my way out of it; I still do. I never imagined surviving a sadness like that, it felt like drowning in air.
There are many deep wounds that never show up on the outside of the body, but they can be deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.
I don’t know why I fled from that book and time and banished it from my consciousness, I do share my life. I think it was just too much for me to bear and still is.
I crashed today, and I should have seen it coming. It often happens at this time of year.
I’m tired, I’ve been writing every day for months now, and the sky turned dark, windy, icy, and gloomy. The dark days are here, which usually brings me down for a while; I am a color and light creature.
I rode my bike at cardiac rehab just after lunch and looked through the glass windows at the rain and wind, and I just felt like crying, no one would have noticed or cared.
Instead, I rode 45 minutes on my bike until my knees begged me to quit.
I have to pull out the depression light my daughter gave me a couple of years ago; it was made for the dark days. She knows me better than I think.
I think almost everyone I know is a bit down this year; it was a hard year. But it’s not my nature or human nature to stay that way after darkness light. For me, sadness is cleansing, soulful, rich, and deep.
Life is a wheel, it turns and turns, joy would be meaningless if there were no sadness in my life.
Tonight, at dinner, I read to Maria after we ate.
We dine by candlelight, but I read by flashlight. Maria took a photo of this with my new Iphone 12. I read about wild boards, one of 47 essays about nature called Vesper Flights by Helen Macdonald, the author of “H is for Hawk,” another book I bought for her.
When I met Maria, I thought she was brained starved, perhaps the smartest person I had ever met, yet almost desperate for ideas, books, thoughts. No one in her life knew that a mind that hungry had to be fed.
Since no one around her had any expectations for her, she had few for herself.
I started buying her books, and that never stopped. I pride myself on picking the right books for people. When you love someone, it is natural to find the right books. She wrote about that on her blog tonight.
This became a ritual of our relationship, a love that never seems to fade.
I think buying books for her is perhaps my absolute favorite thing in the world to do; she scolds me for buying them, circles them like a hawk on the hunt, gobbles them up, reads them back to me, wakes up thinking about them; she is now the best-read person I know, certainly including me.
She would never buy a hardcover book, just as she would never buy a piece of clothing retail; it would be heresy for her; she just wasn’t raised in that way.
Yet she inhales them like summer air. Life is curious.
She is a voracious reader, and much of what she reads eventually makes its way into her art, the flow of life.
This is a creative house, an inn of the mind.
We love to read to each other and sometimes share and argue about what we read. At night, when I write, she reads. This is a good way to be during a pandemic; we are never at a loss for something to do. We are either creating or reading.
Tonight, I read part of this amazing short story, Nothing But A Pig. Maria lit up.
I read a lot when I’m sad, it flushes the system of the mind for me.
Right now, I’m reading an Anne Cleeves Vera Stanhope mystery and a wonderful book called Interior Chinatown, by Charles Yu, a brilliant and funny and sometimes heartbreaking look at race in America through the eyes of a Chinatown family and child.
My crashes are rare now and also sweet. They are deep and nourishing in their own way.
I think this is necessary for creative people; they crash and cleanse themselves and are refreshed. Maria understands, it is miraculous to be seen and known.
Women know that.
I remember reading T.H. White’s The Once and Future King, and I became fascinated by his Merlin, who wrote so beautifully about sadness. I read about Merlin a dozen times; he respected sadness and taught me how to feel about it.
I always fantasized about being a wizard, or at least a mystic. Merlin was my hero. I so envied the power of his mind.
“The best thing for being sad,” replied Merlin, beginning to puff and blow, ” is to learn something. That’s the only thing that never fails. You may grow old and trembling in your anatomies; you may lie awake at night listening to the disorder of your veins, you may miss your only love, you may see the world about you devastated by evil lunatics, or know your honor trampled in the sewers of baser minds. There is only one thing for it then — to learn. Learn why the world wags and what wags it. That is the only thing which the mind can never exhaust, never alienate, never be tortured by, never fear or distrust, and never dream of regretting. Learning is the only thing for you. Look what a lot of things there are to learn.” – From the Once And Future King.
A dreadful student, learning is the only thing for me, especially when I crash. Look what a lot of things there are to learn, and Merlin was right; the best way to learn is to be sad.
Photo by Maria Wulf
I happen to love that book Out Of The Shadows, because it had so much truth too it. It raw and so authentic from your emotions to your pictures. I’m lucky to have a signed copy of it from you where I brought in a tiny bookstore in Northshire, Vt.
I too myself, lately have found myself to be depressed, perhaps never wanting to say it out loud, yet it steeping out of me physically in ways, I don’t care to admit like weight gain, back issues,
breaking out, coughing late at night as almost a rattle that hasn’t gone away. After a few doctor appointments, they all seem to mutter are you stressed? Shocked, at the thought of it, I would think and say, well no more then I usually am? Perhaps, more so then I admit that I’m existing but not living, lived for others but never myself, not knowing how to grow from that. Always finding myself in long term relationship that I’m alone in, never a shared life, just at the end of the day ends up with me being alone, waking up alone and yet, another year passes.
When I want to say, am I not worthy of being loved, having a shared life, and being put first? How, much can one person give and come up empty every time?
I also care take for an elderly parent who makes me wonder I’ve given up my life to self sacrificed when I should be finding myself but I know it the right thing to do since I’m an only child since I have no one to pass off anything too. I am in middle 40’s I’ve come to terms well, I will never marry, I’m passed child bearing age and yet always hope my prince charming will find me and say your enough, I want to grow old with you.
Anyway, enough of my being gibberish, but I guess I am trying to say thanks for that book, it makes me feel not so alone and make me feel like I’m not the only one struggling to make sense of what depression is, and yet it a silence battle often not talked about, yet we are all fighting it.
Thanks Kathleen, I appreciate the note very much, good luck to you..you seem quite special..jon
Kathleen, your post resonates with me. Jon’s book helped me too. I was in the same sort of situation you describe and was very depressed. I still hoped I might find the right person, after all, it happened for Jon. Look how happy he is (except when he crashes!) You are still young. It can happen for you. I am Jon’s age and although I didn’t quite find the person I dreamed off, I found Peace and purpose enough to make me content. So I have hope for you. Life will not always feel like a chore and when this wretched virus is done, things will be better. There is no shame ever in talking about depression, especially this year. Be well. Good wishes. Carolyn
Thank you and Maria very very very MUCH love
Jon, I just love how you “deal with everything”…your posts help me cope with all of life’s little challenges every day!
You’re so right…the days right now are long, dark, and dreary. Quite often my sister and I have finished with dinner already at 4 o’clock! We look up and realize how early it is, yet it’s almost pitch dark outside. Our only “entertainment” this year are beautiful Christmas lights we had put up again this year on our front porch and birch tree on the lawn. If I didn’t have the lovely lights, all my late sister’s books to read, and the computer, I think I would lose it, especially this year! 🙂
Cheers to you and Maria, and keep on truckin’!
Loved your comment… This is a creative house, an inn of the mind. My Mom died 13 years ago. Like many women of her era, she never had a place of her own or even a room of her own. When she died, she left me a little money, as her mother had left her. I used it to create a room of my own. I call it APT. C – A Place To Create. These comments don’t allow underlining or bolding, so I hope you can understand. I LOVE APT. C I never had an apartment of my own, commuting to college, and then marrying my senior year. APT. C is filled with the tools for creating… thread, fabric, buttons, paper, glue, scissors, and on and on. My Mom’s mop is a curtain rod. Her bread box stores pens and other treasures. In my retirement I am creating totes from the fabric of people’s lives. LOVE creating these and seeing the glow of happiness when I deliver the final product. Perhaps one day, I will leave APT. C and travel to your Inn of the Mind. It COULD happen as we are in Cornish, NH, right next door to Saint Gaudens. Thanks for your words.
Thank you for the Merlin quote from The Once and Future King. It is incredibly relevant to me right now and I’m going to print it and post it somewhere where I will see it often as a reminder. I shall continue to work at learning “why the world wags and what wags it”. Some of this I learn from reading your blog. I have learned a lot from your posts about Trump and what wags him. Thanks again.
Thanks for addressing the issue of seasonal depression, Jon. Many of us who live ‘up north’ suffer and struggle to find solutions. I never thought that reading and learning could help but it does make sense. Replacing negative thoughts with constructive ideas from reading would definitely help.
Maria mentioned several weeks ago about doing a podcast on books and reading. That would be so appreciated!
I have diabetes and had to have my toes amputated….I have cried every day f or 2 months. My husband finally said enough already. Where is my feisty loud opinionated wife,? I have returned from the darkness. Zinnia Bud Fate and the donkeys give me hope and comfort. Depression is very real and I hope soon you will feel better!!!
This is a beautiful poem.
I used to own The Once and a Future King. I wish I still had it! I cannot help but agree, creative people can become more creative when they are sad, our insides need to spill out, so we can “clean the pot.” I’m glad you feel better. I feel better too, yesterday happened to be a cleansing day for me. My little teapot just steamed up and poured out. Sometimes we need nudging by someone completely new or just a friend saying “hey!” Bloop, here comes the tea.