Tuesday, May 10, 2011

The Crumple Zone

And I used to be strong
And I used to be a man
But now I fold at your feet
Like a burning letter


I'm sitting in my car, late at night, watching the blood well from the lines I've just sliced into my arm, and I'm wondering just why I did it. In hindsight I'll manufacture some kind of explanation, but in the moment all I can think of is, I've got to find a reason for someone to care.

And in the moment, I am out of my mind.

Shaking from head to toe, I grab my phone and I call my wife and ask her to remind me why I'm worth keeping around. She talks me down, but I keep shaking all the way home.

And there you have just one of the recent skirmishes fought between my brain and itself.

To say depression has only just wrapped me in its loving embrace would be wrong. I've been falling into that pit off and on for most of the last 20 years. But it was this year that everything came to a head. It was this year that, as I spun my wheels frantically trying to deal with the release of two books, the writing of two regular columns, my first-ever comedy festival show, a full-time night job and the accompanying sleep deprivation, and providing for a wife and three children, I finally cracked open, and lost my ability to keep it together. Thankfully, this also meant I stopped pretending everything was OK. The meltdown came suddenly, frighteningly and with devastating force, but it was the meltdown I had to have.

It's been a terrifying, strange, surreal, ridiculous time, suddenly finding myself buffeted by waves of panic, sweating and gasping for air and sobbing for no good reason, stricken suddenly by the all-pervading terror that everyone I love has finally become fed up with me and left, as undoubtedly they will, and as undoubtedly I deserve. Suddenly finding myself shrunken and diminished, huddling in a ball against the pain of the world. Suddenly finding myself clenching my teeth and wondering how long I have been. Suddenly finding myself completely unable to cope.

Always the fear, the fear. That an unanswered text message means a friend has cut all ties. That when I'm not around, people talk about me, saying what they REALY think. That I'm pathetic, weak, worthless, and the voice that won't stop whispering to me "Fat Loser, why don't you give up? Nobody could love a THING like you" is right. The creeping feeling that even though I know depression is just an illness for everyone else, maybe I'm that one person for whom it's justified. For whom it's no more than what I deserve.

And the guilt. Knowing what a burden this crisis is placing on the people I love. Knowing how much I must be hurting them. Knowing how hard it is for my family, and cursing myself for my selfishness. The agony of knowing you could ruin lives by leaving, and feeling that you're ruining them even more by staying.

And the mad, hysterical absurdity. The hindsight hilarity of dissolving into tears in the doctor's office, and then explaining through the choking sobs that I'm a comedian. The ludicrousness of my trying to be a rock for my friends and dispense wise advice when I have no idea how to save myself from the treachery of my own psyche. The sick joke of sitting in a room full of friends, all talking and laughing raucously, and feeling lonelier than I have in my life.

And through it I kept writing, and I kept joking, and I stepped up on stage ten times to perform that festival show, cracking jokes about my own death of all things! And I opened up to the world about my problems and let people know, and somehow I struggled through. And I kept breaking down, and gasping for air, and crying, and putting my family through hell, and scaring everyone around me, and reaching out desperately to find someone, anyone, to constantly reassure me that I'm loved, and that the world is, even slightly, a better place for my existence.

I have enough friends who've gone through, and are going through, similar things to know I'm not unique, and I'm not special. I have been struck by an illness, not a romantic genius's curse. And I still don't quite know how to handle it. I don't even know if this blog post is a good idea. I rarely write so personally about myself, and it's possible that what I've written is an awful bunch of old rubbish.

But hopefully it'll go a little way to helping me remember in the dark moments that I'm not alone, and that this too shall pass. The traitor in my head will continue to make his sorties, attacking furiously in an attempt to crush me. Maybe he will succeed, and maybe he won't. I have resolved to fight him. I will keep struggling on, trying to retain my rational mind and keep somewhere at all times that as bad as things get, it won't last forever, that things will be all right, and that most importantly, I'm not alone.

And hopefully, writing this might help others know that they're not alone. I'm so grateful for everyone who has read my work, who's come to see me on stage, who follows me on Twitter etc etc. I owe you all a debt of gratitude, and I know that problems and demons beset many of you too. You're not alone. Darkness can strike us all at any time, but I know there are people who love me - no matter how much it feels, so often, that there are none - and I have to work on remembering that. And I've learned that when you're sick, you need help. You need to seek out those who are trained to help you survive. I'm popping pills like nobody's business, and that is weird and alien to me. But it's what has to be done, and it's no big deal.

Or...perhaps that's all a colossal wank, and I'm kidding myself and this won't really help anyone. A definite possibility. But hopefully my attempt to sort out all the thoughts that have invaded me as a result of this breakdown, to get down in blog form the persistent buzzing in my head, will have a positive effect on someone, somewhere. Hopefully that'll include myself!

Because I know now the desperate flailing, the horrific suffocation that comes when those black waves come crashing over and you find yourself just about incapable of keeping your head up in the face of the merciless tides. But we're all capable. We may have to lean on others from time to time, but we don't have to fall. Tomorrow I may feel them crashing again, and become convinced that none of this is true, but now I have to affirm that it IS.

The scars on my arm are healing. I know I want to live, and even though I don't exactly know how to go about it, I think I will.

Thank you all. You're lovely.

I promise I'll start joking again soon.

I weep on your feet and reach for your hand
And beg for some sign of your love
And I used to be a man
And I used to be strong

212 comments:

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Anonymous said...

well written.

lucky you have support.

I have none and dont know what to do.

have tried it ALL

but reading this is come consolation i am not the only one feeling this.

but i am still alone

thanks

Bec said...

Anonymous, you don't have to be alone. There are lots of avenues of support, lifeline, beyond blue. Ben and I are both on twitter, we and many others there are available for support.

scott said...

You are a brave man Ben. And what you have to say is incredibly valuable not only to you but to so many others too.
I have lost a friend who sat like you in a car in a remote spot, no doubt doubt mulling over the same sort of things, but he did not make it out of the car alive.
Think of others if you can. Focus on them. What can you do for them? It may help you lift your head above the fog of depression to see the real horizon in fron of you. And it will make you not think about yourself and maybe even feel a little better about yourself.
Good luck my friend. You have many many people with you every step of your way. Treasure them and yourself.

Anonymous said...

I don't quite have your courage to post this on my own blog. So I'd like to share this with you Ben. Thank you for letting others feel a little less alone.

Bipolar

How awful… how sad…
Shhh… you’ll make him mad.

All around me. They whisper and whisper.
And their words claw their way in, deeper and deeper.
As I scream through the exhilaration of an unending sugar high.
I laugh at the world. There’s nothing I want, that anyone can deny.

How awful. How sad.
Shhh. You’ll make him mad.

Unending passions that rage and explode. An unquenchable insatiable desires.
I rave and rant through sleepless nights, indiscriminately flying higher and higher.
Voicing vice by vice, screeching my unspoken, unspeakable pleasures.
No amount of alcohol will douse my ardor. No cold, callous sex will cool the passions of my ambitions.

How awful. How sad.
Shhh. You’ll make him mad.

I wake each morning, loved by one and envied by all.
By night I am alone. With no one to catch my fall.
I shiver. I shiver, hugging my knees.
And everyone hates me.

Cold and frightened.
Every wrong heightened.
This is the me.
That no one sees.

Tomorrow, will I set myself to meet the reaper?
Or drink the poisoned cup of my mind’s killer but sanity keeper.

Then tomorrow comes, and one polar brings another.
And I decide I will fly higher… so I can fall even much further.

How awful. How sad.
Shhh. We should leave. He’s gone mad.

someone loves you said...

Great post. I have struggled with depression for many years. The one thing that always rings true is that there is always a brighter day. Life is a roller coaster ride. Full of ups and downs. Things can't always be down. Thats just the way life works.

paul.robert.mcelwee said...

And now, some weeks later... I hope life has become a little more shiny & orange for you. I don't know you from a bar of soap but from what you write, I reckon you're a good man (and you're damn funny) so I really wish you well.
(Actually, I'm sure I would know you from a bar of soap; otherwise it could be very embarrassing in the shower.)

Tillyboo said...

I love what you said about depression being an illness - I often forget that. For me it's all about menopause - and I don't think it's exclusively a female thing, the drop in hormones effects men as well. Your post put it into perspective. And we're in good company! Thanks for being so brave and talking about it publicly - the more people who do that, the more 'acceptable' it will become; and hopefully people will do something about it when it happens to them - in the same way they would if it were the flu. 1:5 - actually, I expect it's closer to 1:3.

Dealing with Anxiety said...

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Dealing with Anxiety said...

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Sunshine Coast Bookkeeping said...

Life has many reasons to live out. Sometimes we fail, sometimes we succeed. If you feel you're down, unleash yourself and start counting your blessings. And then, you will realized how blessed you are.

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