Depression and the Writer

The following post is written from my own experience and might not apply to all writers or artists. Which is totally fine. But if you identify, let me know.

A lot of the time, writers (and artists) are seen to be mentally…unstable. That is to say, as a breed, we are prone to mental illness, or afflicted by disorders, immersed in episodes of mental instability. Depression and the like.

While I have been fighting for a long time, I have started to come to terms with what it means to be an artist and what it means to struggle when dreams are more enticing and alluring to immerse yourself in than reality.

We dream of living an ideal life, losing pieces of ourselves into every character we imagine.

The fighter who can move with ease and carry herself like she is weightless, flexible. It is so much easier to imagine that character than it is to live with discipline of eating cleanly, exercising often, lifting weight. Making time for that when you want to dream and write? Less of a chance.
The mage, able to conjure magic, to invent and make something remarkable. That dream, full of light and colour, is so much easier that the application to science to learn how to elicit certain reactions and make potions.
The healer, able to guide all illnesses through to wellness or know what fates have in store is much simpler to imagine than it is to face a family or individual illness, clouded in uncertainty and complicated medications.

These small dreams hold so much promise, so much potential that our own human potential seems small, insignificant, unachievable. Our own stories seem pale, convoluted, and dim in comparison with those of epic fantasies, urban fantasies, any fantasy. We are so lost in our dreams that our lives seem trivial.

To detangle ourselves from fantasy that we so want, that we want to share and make into something that others are able to experience, is difficult. We become unmotivated, irrelevant, sad, depressed, lost, left stagnant and still. I’m learning more about how to ground myself. My wife is the anchor of my life. She does so much and is so capable, that I am often left in awe of her. She told me today as I lost myself to stillness, “It’s better to do something than nothing.”

So I keep moving, to better myself and my life, while I balance what I create in fantasy with what I create in life.