Battling Depression: The Criticism Disease

How many times have you looked in the mirror and told yourself: Ugh ?

OK, let's slow down: how many times have you done it today?

We rip on ourselves all day long. Some people, like me, do it out loud as a form of defense. I use self-deprecating humor to basically ward off people saying impolite things (I said it first, so it doesn't hurt).  But we all do it. If not outside, then in.

Partly, we in the US inherited our need to be busy from the Pilgrims. Puritans truly believed that idle hands were the Devil's workshop, and they stressed the importance of cleanliness and busy-ness, ideas that we now revere today. I can't tell you how many times I've heard visitors to the US remark about how obsessed we are about being clean and smelling pretty. This is not something every culture worries about. Many cultures prepare food with bare hands (yes, even in restaurants) and even eat with their hands. Americans, though, are repelled by this behavior. Hands are so dirty.

So in our culture, if we aren't busy, or cleaning, or busy cleaning, we tend to start yelling at ourselves. We "should" all over ourselves: "I should walk the dog, I really should iron those dinner napkins. I should clean out the gutters."

And it takes its toll. We're a very depressed people. Now, there are a lot of factors for depression, but this is definitely one of them and it gets the short shrift, so I'm going to focus on it. It also includes within it my #1 tip to abolishing depression: giving yourself credit.

I have and do struggle with depression my whole life. Yes, sometimes it is so bad I can't get out of bed. Yes, I've contemplated suicide on many occasions. Yes, it is a debilitating, serious disease. But there are two things that clear it up really quickly. 1: helping others. And 2: Giving yourself credit.

Since #1 involves being able to get out of bed, we focus on #2, which you can do in bed.

I've talked in my nonfiction book Talking Back (You can get it on Amazon/Kindle, too) about sometimes just needing a standing ovation for doing things like getting up in the morning. For someone who is depressed, that can be very difficult, indeed, and is worthy of some praise.

Now, since most of us are not rich enough to hire someone to give us standing ovations whenever we brush our teeth, I propose this: Be your own better-than-best friend.

Go ahead and give yourself a standing ovation. Or, in a much quieter version keep a journal, and leave the top half of every page to listing all the great things you did that day.

It sounds silly, I know. Maybe it is. But it works.

I do this every day. It's part of my Eudaimonia Project, yes, but I started it before then. I started it as a suggestion from The 4-Day Win by Martha Beck.

Give Yourself Credit.

It revolutionizes your life, if you do it. You can battle any terrible day by writing such mundane things as: Took a shower. Made myself a coffee. Made my husband a coffee. Packed a lunch. Walked up stairs. Smiled at my reflection in the mirror. Resisted biting nails for entire HR presentation.

Try it for four days, then comment below and tell me how it went. It feels silly at first, but it is such a mental health breakthrough, I am sure you'll love it.  This is absolutely, hands-down, the easiest and quickest way to turn back the depression tide for me. Of course, helping people is the only way I know to beat depression, but giving yourself credit will turn your day around every time.

Why do we Eat?

I recently read an article about a yoga instructor who gained 40 lbs as an experiment in self-judgment, social judgment, etc.

Of course, it was enlightening and wonderful and eye-opening. But what resonated with me?

This statement right here, that came out during and interview : "I wasn't trying to gain a certain amount of weight - I just let go of any control or dietary restrictions. My style of eating has always been eating for health. And I changed that to eating anything and everything and all amounts of food that I desired or wanted or thought, 'Oh, that would be great.' "

And then I thought: "Why do I eat?"

Usually the thought that goes through my mind right before my hand reaches for a snack is, "Oh, that looks good." Or the shorter, simpler, "yummy!" What if I didn't eat this way?

What if I put less emphasis on how food felt or tasted or smelled, and I focused on eating what nourished my body? What if I put less guilt around food in general and just said, "No, eating is about supporting my physical body, not my emotional moment." What if I judged two food options based on which was healthier, instead of which would make my toes tingle?

For a fat person, this is radical.

What if food became a source of disease or health to me, instead of an opportunity for pleasure? After all, I have plenty of pleasure in my life, and plenty of sources of pleasure. These are not the days of darkness and depression when I thought about quitting smoking and told myself, "This is the only thing I enjoy; I can't give it up."

I enjoy lots of things, now. I rarely need to dig out of a funk for more than a day in a row, I get to bask in the sunlight and work on pet projects. My sadnesses are real, but I am actively working to eliminate them. I have deep, meaningful conversations with my husband and no one gets hurt. We laugh together every day and we don't need to be mean to do it. Toes tingle regularly and often, and it has nothing to do with cheesecake.

So, what would happen if I ate for health (or for illness) instead?

It's not that I've been unaware of the health or unhealthiness of food. Of course I've known, intellectually, that excess sugar (or, it seems more and more, ANY sugar), trans fats, processed ingredients, etc. are unhealthy. I knew it, but the food tasted so good, I would eat it anyway and be like, "yummy."

I would get excited about a food. I would anticipate how good it would taste (it never does taste as good as you think it will, nor does it ever get better than the first bite).

I would pat my belly, even if I was uncomfortably full (stuffed), and feel proud of myself for conquering some kind of gustatory challenge: "I owned that pizza."

Oh, I'd feel guilty later.  In fact, once I started eating healthier (a temporary evil to lose weight, right?) I couldn't stomach a lot of fat or sugar, and it would make me ill to the point of needing to vomit (not a binge-purge, just an upset tummy). then I would feel really bad, because I so obviously just poisoned myself.

So I'd watch TV and avoid my feelings.

It's like, I know I'm doing this. I'm aware of it, and this awareness is also a source of guilt and just feeling generally icky about myself. I'm aware of it, but I cannot stop it.

Can I?

Is  it really as simple (not easy, but simple) as changing my perception of the exciting bits of food, and becoming excited about nutrition instead of "badness"?  Can I turn guilty pleasure into just plain pleasure?

Hello, Experiment!