The Mask And Feeling Like A TV Host

Hi,

It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I’m still living with Depression but thankfully due to staying on the meds, CBT and a great support network (mostly from my incredibly loving wife who never judges, is forever patient and all round wonderful) I’ve not hit a prolonged bad patch for a while. The only episode I’ve had is when a bout of food poisoning meant I didn’t get the effects of my meds for about a week and did “The Citalopram Slam”

I’ve recently changed jobs. I’m enjoying where I work and they’re a lovely group of people who foster a creative and engaging environment in which to work in. However, I felt like I’ve constantly had to be “On” with my mask of confidence and geniality, not letting them know that the mask hides major depressive episodes.

And it’s exhausting.

I feel like the host of a live TV show that goes on for a few hours, like an awards ceremony. Being as professional and engaging and charismatic as you can (obviously not like when James Corden hosts one). Then they cut to an ad break and you can rest, gather your thoughts and prepare for the next segment.

That’s what a break at work feels like for me. I sit in the canteen and readjust my mask, or leave it off by burying my head in a book so I don’t have to talk to anyone. And I know how that sounds, unsociable, rude, even arrogant. But the truth is it’s exhaustion and fear. I go over my CBT, control my breathing so I can be as calm and focused as I can, then wait for the director to give me the countdown for when the ad break is about to end and start again.

That food poisoning I mentioned earlier? That happened when I’d been at my new job for a month or so. I got a surge of bravery and told them exactly what had happened, about how I’ve been living with Depression for decades and how I take medication to assist me. And they were wonderful about it. It means a lot to know I’m fortunate to have an employer who is sympathetic and knows not what to say to someone with Depression. Couple that with my home life being great, all thanks to my wife of course, things are on the level for me.

There are good days, bad days, good parts of bad days and bad parts of good days. Maybe I won’t need to wear the mask as much as I think I do in future. Not that I’m going to go all Julian Clary and say I was fisting George Osborne, as lovely as that image is.

Cognative Behavioral Therapy – Round 2

Don’t call it a comeback!

All things considered, I’m a really lucky bastard.  I have an amazing wife, she is a joy to be around, her intellect makes her an education on whatever it is we discuss and her relentless support of her principles and causes she supports makes her an inspiration.

I don’t hate my job, even though it is what may be called an Office Drone, it is always fresh, my colleagues are great people and my employers invest in their staff with training, support, and a health plan.

I get on with all of my family, we may not all be in the same city, or indeed the same country, but we all get on fine and stay in touch with each other probably not as regularly as we should but with every single phone call we always say we will correct that.

So what do I have to be depressed about?  Simple.  I live with Depression.

Even though I know that it isn’t my fault and that I do all that I can to manage the clouds and darkness that descend, they still come.  And every time they come, I always ask myself, what do I have to be depressed about?  The answer is I suffer from Depression and Anxiety issues.

Despite healthy living, keeping active, doing exercise etc, the demon returns when I don’t expect it.  It it here at the moment.  And this is why I am lucky.

My work have a health plan with AXA that they referred me to.  Today, I spoke to a Counsellor for an hour and, as a result, I’m going to do 12 sessions of Cognative Behavioural Therapy and my employer is paying for it.  As someone who loves the NHS, I do feel conflicted about going private but the way I rationalise it, is if I don’t have to use the already overworked and under funded mental health services on offer on the NHS, then somebody else can.  Or they can take one person off of the waiting list.

As I say, I’m a lucky fecker.  I know that it’s quite a privilege to have such a support tool on hand, even luckier that my employer is covering it.  I’ve done some CBT before and it helped hugely.  This time, I shall be doing twice as many sessions.

And to be honest, I feel quite guilty.

Guilty for both having the opportunity that thousands upon thousands do not have, and guilty for essentially being a lucky fecker.  But, as the Counsellor I spoke to today said, “Don’t ask ‘Why’ questions, as they will tie you up in an existential mess.  Instead ask ‘How’ questions, as they are far better for you”.

Good advice, I thought.

Every Silver Lining Has A Cloud – Living With Depression

Every Silver Lining Has A Cloud – Living With Depression.