
If I could pick one destination for the phrase “social distancing” – this is, of course, if such a personified ending was possible – I would commission a hole dug all the way down to the magma, drop it in, curse it, watch it burn, and then bury it a thousand miles below Earth’s surface. And it’s not at all because the phrase itself is distasteful. It’s just that the ramifications of that little phrase have been pretty profound.
The reason I hate it so badly right now, though, is the same reason a lot of people hate it but can’t put their finger on exactly why. For those of us that suffer depression – even if it’s medically controlled or moderate in nature – social distancing means social isolation, and that is not good for us.
I read the phrase “social isolation” on Wednesday, May 20, and as soon as I read it, I sat down to write this. It’s funny how one phrase, even something as simple to conjure as “social isolation,” can trigger a slideshow of catalysts that have contributed to what I can only describe as pandemic depression.
Think about all the ways we are socially isolated from our entire world right now, just using my life as an example. I can’t go to work, I can’t go hang out and eat dinner with family, I can’t talk about sports, I can’t go to church, I can’t go out to eat, I can’t joke around with strangers I see in the grocery store because I try to avoid every person I see, shopping in general absolutely sucks, the political division has once again isolated those of us that can understand and empathize with the whole political spectrum. Hell, even social media is so ripe with divisive but uncredentialed medical experts and armchair economists that I even feel isolated from Facebook.
For whatever the reason(s) a lot of us are obeying our leaders, be it that we are rule followers or we understand the severity of the virus or we have pre-existing conditions that force us into that decision, those of us in full quarantine are almost completely isolated from our world.
Some people are probably LOVING this. Those who suffer depression and are suddenly isolated from the world probably aren’t. And that can be a VERY serious problem.
The “experts” are saying that it’s too early to tell if we’re going to see a spike in suicides or attempted suicides or even mental health crises on a subjective and personal level. They can say it’s too early all they want, but as somebody who is now on the moderate end of depression thanks solely to sobriety, I can tell you that if I’m struggling, those people with severe depression are most definitely struggling.
And it is my plea that whoever reads this will reach out to those people. I have no idea what you can say to them, but there is at least a plausible chance that they might need to be pulled out of social isolation.
If you are the one who is depressed, on the other hand, I’m going to say something that many will disagree with. But I don’t care. If you’ve even let the thought of suicide pass through your thoughts these past two months, forget everything the experts are saying and get your ass out of your house and go see people that make you feel good about yourself. I don’t care if you’re social distancing or wearing a mask, and I don’t care if you lick door handles and kiss strangers on the way there. You don’t need to be socially isolating yourself.
Besides, you have to play the odds if you start feeling that way. If you put a gun to your head and pull the trigger, there’s about a 98% chance that you will die. If you lick door handles and kiss people on the way to your best friend’s house or the psychologist’s office, there’s less than a 1% chance that you will die. As you have no doubt heard before, suicide is a long-term solution to a short-term problem. And as you’ve also heard, the COVID death rate is not 98%.
Somebody reading this will no doubt think I’m being a little extreme to suggest that social isolation or sudden unemployment can lead to suicide, but you have to remember something. If you’ve never considered it, suicide is most definitely extreme. If you are clinically depressed and you HAVE considered it, there is a better than average chance that forced social isolation can make it a viable option. And that’s the problem.
In what might be near total isolation, that viable option is not easy to forget.
Me Versus You
The “you” in the title of this section is a rhetorical, everyman “you.” It’s the “you” out there reading this that is depressed and socially isolated and has glimpsed at that viable option that ends all suffering. I no longer compare to you, but with only three years of sobriety under my belt, I most certainly can still empathize.
As I just mentioned, I’m sober now. You might be abusing alcohol or hard drugs or opioids or even food for that matter (I can relate a little to that last one.) Addiction isn’t the best accessory of depression.
I’m bordering on content now. You aren’t. For whatever reason, contentment is elusive, and if you’re anything like me, it is VERY elusive.
I’m still getting paid. You might have lost your job. You might have a business that is crumbling and you feel completely helpless and wronged.
I’m at home everyday with three kids and a wife who all freaking adore me. And I adore them. I want to complain every single day and say stupid shit like, “Oh poor you. You get to watch Netflix all day and take naps and do whatever you want to do. Try doing a pandemic with two toddlers and NO PLAY DATES OR PLAYMATES BUT YOU.” But I just can’t do it. As bad as I want to, I just can’t complain. It’s been the most challenging two months of my life, but I keep reminding myself how lucky I am. You may not be in that same boat.
I’ve stayed really busy. I’m still trying to teach a bunch of students that don’t want to learn. I’ve got a house and yard that needs constant attention. I do more housework than about 95% of men in the world. You may be sitting in an apartment alone with no friends to see or no job to go to or no bar or church or concert to take your mind off of how bad your life is right now.
I can’t completely compare to you anymore, and for that I am immensely thankful, but the only difference between my past social isolation and yours is that nobody forced me to do it when I was an active alcoholic. I did it by choice. This is slightly different. And it’s probably worse. But I can promise you that suicide was an option more times than I can even remember. And that means I know it is for more people than I can even imagine right now.
For that, I am truly sorry that this has happened before you beat or learned to control your depression. I hope you make the often more difficult choice and choose what is probably an almost invisible hope. As long as you have a glimpse of hope, though, that’s the decision you have to make. It’s why I’m still alive today. You CAN beat this.
One Big Obstacle
I’ve had two different discreet running conversations over the past several months with two people watching someone they know and/or love slowly kill themselves with alcohol. Literally everything they say or ask in trying to explain or understand their alcoholic is like a real life DVR stopping on those same moments in my own past battles with alcoholism. It is uncanny how similar the battles are between all of us who share that title.
The big one that rears it’s hideous head time and time again is sociopathic defensiveness. Alcoholics build up a wall around themselves that houses the entirety of their addiction, and they will protect that addiction at any and all costs, and if that means physically, mentally, or emotionally hurting those they love, they will do it. I sure did. The addiction was more important than letting them pierce that wall I had built up around me.
But here’s the thing. People who are clinically depressed use the same wall and the same defense. They do not want anybody to pierce it because they don’t know how to live without depression and they most certainly don’t want to talk about WHY they are depressed (quite possibly because they don’t even understand why,) so they defend it by hiding it.
Have you ever sincerely asked somebody, “How are you REALLY doing?” and they continue to say “Fine” and you know they’re lying but you finally just give up asking? That’s exactly what they’re hoping will happen.
It’s their biggest obstacle right now. It’s very, very similar to an alcoholic who has been clean for a little while and makes the decision to go back to the bottle. When they make that decision, they WILL NOT talk about it with anybody because they actually don’t want anybody to stop them. The same will be true for somebody who has made the decision to end their own life. You’ll see them on the street or at work and you’ll ask them how they’re doing and they’ll say “Fine.” And you’ll shrug and just accept their answer even though you know it’s a lie.
The problem is, you don’t see them on the street or at work anymore.
This hits close to home lately. I know I suffer from depression and since this mess started I’ve gone back on my meds. I had weaned myself off, under Dr’s care and was doing well. This isolation has been rough. Reading your blogs help more than you know. My depression isn’t well known among my family and friends. I’ve gotten good at FINE too….
I hope you take what I’m about to say with the intent intended😊❤….I absolutely adore you! Your honesty and putting yourself out there truly touches my heart. We may never meet face to face and that’s okay. I still love you my friend…
Keep writing, we need you to. I need you to….
J