Negotiating a Poly “Depressisode”

I’ve been trying to write this column for three weeks. I hope you find it’s worth it. Being depressed and trying to write about depression is like trying to dig your wheels out of a sand dune. You expend a lot of energy and you just end up in deeper.

At one point in this process, I got the second half of a reading from our own Len Wallick. (I once got a reading from Eric, as well, but I’ll tell you all about that another time.) As he asked about my questions and concerns — as you can probably tell by reading his work, he’s pretty good at listening — I told him about how in all my DIY astrology I kept getting descriptions about the Neptune-Chiron-every-other-damn-planet cluster on my midheaven, and they were scaring me.

Like that Neptune on the midheaven meant a fall from pride; scandal; disgrace. That the commentaries said I’d do something wrong or slipshod that would destroy my life and bring guilt and shame upon me, but I wouldn’t even know it, because Neptune is so tricky that way. Basically gloom, fog, gloom, gloom, shame, gloom and spam.

“We don’t do it that way here,” he said.

So that’s part one of my membership drive pitch for Planet Waves. For the special rate of $49 for a year, you are guaranteed NOT to get the kind of disempowering, fear-fueled, know-it-all, dire, cryptic counsel you will find in so many other venues, not only in astrology, but from all kinds of New Age and Spiritual groups and gurus. Eric don’t play disempowerment.

(As an advertising writer for my paying work, I know I’m not supposed to go negative and tell what something isn’t. But I’m depressed, so negative is where it’s at for me right now!)

Part two is another remark Len made, about the “Planet Waves family.” It does have that quality. From someone who hasn’t always gotten an empowering, interesting, thought provoking and encouraging message from her family of birth, it’s very appealing to get such a message here. And family pitches in to help each other out, so if you want to keep the relationships strong, you have to put in.

The $49 comes out to less than a dollar a week, and you can read what you get with a membership here. But I’m not going to judge how possible that is for anyone. I will say that Planet Waves has always been open about honestly listening and considering price breaks for anyone who asks.

The “family” part as much as the empowering part are what make it possible for me to reveal so much about myself here, and I think what makes others willing to be written about here as well. They sense that they’ll get a fair, open-minded, welcome treatment, and I try to live up to the environment here.

So in the throes of a “depressisode” (not my invention — more on that later), I just threw the two words into Google: polyamory depression. And what popped up but a podcast of Pedestrian Polyamory. This is the podcast by the sort-of Nick and Nora Charles of poly, Gavin and Shira. They are usually very funny, along with being informative. I am not the first to remark that they really master the banter. In fact, so many have remarked on their banter that they have decided to trademark the term: Master Banter™.

The last time I checked in on these two, they were talking about penis size. If there’s a man out there who feels somewhere deep inside that if only his dick were bigger he would always be happy and dwell among rainbows and unicorns — lots and lots of unicorns — listen to this podcast and you will learn different. A big dick is nice, but it is no protection against the sorrows of life.

In this episode, Gavin tells of how he dealt with death and illness in his family, and this triggered an episode of depression — or, as they termed it, a “depressisode.”

The podcast makes hard listening; it’s two sharp, bright people wrestling some of the biggest realities dealt us all — death, illnesses of all kinds, fear, guilt, sorrow and joy and love — and in the process working hard to put something out there in the world that others can benefit from.

Of course, depression for a poly person isn’t, at base, a hugely (ha ha) different thing from what it is for a mono or celibate or queer or… one. But it does have some considerations that the couple bring out, and I think they’re helpful to hear for those in all relationship types.

As Gavin was going through his difficulties, Shira was immersed in New Relationship Energy, all pink fluffy clouds and zingy happiness. You know the kind. For poly people, the contrast when one or more in the group aren’t in good health is more pronounced. Everyone can start feeling helpless and guilty — the healthy ones for being happy and engaged, and the depressed one for bringing everyone down. Jealousy, misunderstandings — all the things that can trouble even the healthiest relationships stalk the ones where someone isn’t in physical and emotional health.

It’s funny — depression poly actually looks a lot like badly managed half-ass poly. Gavin told of these kinds of feelings:

• If something happened that bothered me, I felt like it was a strike against me (rather than reasoning out whether it’s actually unfair, unthinking or has another cause)

• If she’s sitting with someone else it must mean she likes the other one more and I’m at risk of losing her (rather than figuring it’s convenience, enjoying her pleasure, all the other thoughts that happen normally)

• If they don’t take out the trash it must be because they care so little about me and that means I’m worthless (rather than accepting that someone in your group is careless or forgetful and working on a strategy to get everyone’s needs met)

This is the same way poly looks when the people involved jump in or fail to talk about things. Which is interesting in itself. It shows a “normal” person can think like a depressed person, and stop thinking like one when certain steps are followed, usually involving awareness.

Here are a few other useful things from the show:

• Don’t let habits form. Keep breaking behavior up, so you don’t get habits of thinking or of acting. Depression wears a sort of groove into your behavior, but if you run on a different track, you can stop it.

• Don’t be afraid to ask for reassurance. Keep checking in, keep asking, on both sides. Do all the multiple check-ins and talking and reassuring that you do as part of healthy poly. Don’t stop for the depression duration. A depressed person might feel guilty about asking over and over. Another partner may feel inadequate because he can’t seem to reassure her enough. Remember how often you talk in a poly relationship? Keep it up.

• Get physical. Gavin recommends running or really demanding physical activity that doesn’t give you time to think. That’s my tactic as well.

• Go out. Don’t go out. Just don’t weird out. Some people in your poly family may want to go out and have fun and get involved in lots of things. You may need to stay home and take care of yourself. You may find it helps to get involved in something.

But whatever level of activity you choose, don’t get weird about it. You are not a big drag on everyone if you choose to rest or relax. You are not deserting the one you love if you choose to go out and have fun with your other love. You are betraying yourself if you don’t ask honestly when you need companionship, love or attention. You are not being fair to your love if you try to second-guess them and curtail your own life to match what you think they want from you. One thing poly is about is getting off on another person getting what they want. Don’t stop asking: What do you want?

• This is a good time to take the focus off sex. People who are depressed can have a lowered sex drive. Unless the depressed person is the hinge on the V (damn!), the other people in the relationship can enjoy sex with other people and use the depressisode to tap into other ways of being close.

• Set boundaries on communication. A conversation with a depressed person can pull you into a can’t-win spiral. Poly and kink people are good at boundaries, good at keeping them with love and respect. Use this skill.

• Don’t own your partner’s happiness. That’s an easy one, if you’ve been doing The Poly for a while. It’s where you’re coming from anyway. So don’t own their unhappiness, either.

Compersion depression! Yep, you can be just a profoundly compassionate yet not attached to your partner’s unhappiness as you are to their happiness!

I must here add in the typical caveats that responsible communicators are obliged to do: This is not medical advice. If you feel you could do harm you must get help. Don’t stop until you get what you need. And it will change. It may not get better, but it will change. Don’t do anything impulsive, and you’ll find out.

I know very well what I need to do to manage my mental and physical state. Because of a bad work situation, I wasn’t able to do those things, and that’s how I ended up in this fix.

I need more steady, difficult exercise than most people seem to. I need sleep, though even when I have time to get it, I’d rather be doing something else! I need to watch my diet and use some herbs and other supplements. I’m usually good at keeping up that end of it even when the rest goes to hell. And I need to talk to at least a few adults, occasionally, who actually like me and aren’t trying to get something out of me. I can go for a while without doing anything creative, though not writing and not being valued for what I do (I’m convinced I won’t be valued for what I am — few of us are that fortunate) takes a long-term toll on morale.

Gavin related that he’d tried an antidepressant but he found it turned him into a rageaholic, so he stopped. It’s no secret that I’m not into pharmaceuticals for depression treatment. I tried a few over the years because I felt it would be “irresponsible” not to, that it represented “refusing treatment” and “not caring” about the people I love. These days, if you turn down the pill, you’re immediately told you’re being too hasty (but the internist who prescribes one after a 10-minute visit is not?) and that you’re “listening to depression” and that “depression lies.”

I’m not going to tell anyone what they should do. When people who are large go to the doctor for a broken leg, they get told they should lose weight. And when people who “present” depressed, as I do, go to the doctor for a broken leg, they’re encouraged to take an antidepressant. Both situations are frustrating to all concerned.

I’m highly suspicious of two lines of narrative emerging from open discussions of depression: “Depression lies” and “Untreated depression is dangerous and destructive.” Both are dangerous because they’re a little bit true, in some ways, and a lot false in other ways.

Let’s look at the lies. I’m a brutally skeptical person when it comes to humans. My first counterpoint to this is, well, what and who doesn’t lie? But that aside: when I’m convinced that no one wants me or loves me, that’s 80 percent of a lie. But it’s a truth that I was unwanted as a child. And it’s a truth that some of the people who are obligated to act as my “loved ones” in this society aren’t really feeling much love for me. And that even the ones who really love me like crazy wish I would just hush up and get my shit together sometimes.

You know what does lie? Pharmaceutical companies. But even that is about 80 percent lie. There’s a stage in the research and in the factory where people are being hugely exacting and careful and perfect and precise. But as soon as words get involved, lies come in.

The research papers, the places the papers get published, the way the research is reported and re-framed, the commercials — well, that last one is obvious, but even the commercials are only about 80 percent lies. The people making them are basing their work on what they’ve been told — it’s a lie of omission. And they’re 90 percent concerned with paying the mortgage and the health insurance, and have managed to convince themselves with the other 10 percent that they’re helping people.

So maybe depression lies, but its lies are lost in so many others it’s a long day’s work to tease them out. And if we’re going to call bullshit on what depression has to say, it’s only fair to call bullshit on the other kinds of lies as well.

So if someone tells me I ought to be medicated and I point to what I’ve read and researched that steers me away from that course, and they say, “Oh, that’s just the depression talking,” then I’m going to be tempted to cut a motherfucker, as it were.

But because I don’t want to end up locked up and cause trouble for my daughter, I can put aside that temptation, and look at things objectively — and I can do the same with depression, almost all the time. I’ve found that if I can get the energy to push past the impulse to do something bizarre or destructive, stop, gather my awareness, and then act based on reality, I can live with depression.

Cognitive behavioral therapy is what that’s called, and it’s got a little more of a track record for “treatment” than do antidepressant medications, which, it appears, don’t work. If they did, we wouldn’t be having so much depression all around, because when you get down to it, you’re taking SSRIs every time you have a drink of water. Feel good yet?

There’s a lot of anger and badmouthing that goes on when people “refuse” to “treat” their depression. Can you even entertain the thought that this umbrage over “untreated depression” is a self-defending, nicer-sounding way of saying “get over it,” without immediately going to the default, “see, that’s the depression talking”?

There are a lot of ways to treat depression. Mine is through exercise, sleep, diet and love. These give me the foundation so I can gather my awareness and not say or do destructive or hurtful things impulsively, which is the danger of depression.

The reason my depression is so bad right now is that my work situation is not allowing me to get any of the things I need to treat it. I’m literally being worked to death, and I’m quite certain I’m not the only one.

But treatment with a pill — even pills shown not to work all that well — is more convenient and profitable than making it possible for people to lead sane and healthy lives, so we beat on.

What’s lethal to me about depression, or any mental “illness,” or any physical illness for that matter, is that it torpedoes your credibility. As I was entering this spiral, I was hearing news stories about Aaron Swartz, the young activist and computer genius who killed himself after being hounded by the FBI for hacking a bunch of scholarly articles that really weren’t worth much at this point, but he was making a point. (The writers don’t get any money; the journals don’t get a lot either; the aggregator/seller business is the one who profits from pay-per-view scholarly articles, by the way.) The narrative has been getting shaped quite effectively — he was exquisitely sensitive, heartbreakingly self-effacing, always in and out of depressions.

But you know what I say? I say so what.

The guy could have been dancing around naked in a Napoleon hat with a tube sock on his wang, telling the world he was the second coming of Siddhartha — and the FBI prosecution still would have been grotesque, misguided and a rights violation.

The guy could have been hanging out at the top of the Central Park castle talking to the pigeons, waving a broken umbrella and telling the world he’s the secret love child of Mary Poppins and James Bond — and the threats to and harassment of his girlfriend, an independent journalist with a computer full of notes and interviews on hackers and a 7-year-old daughter whom Swartz cared very much about, STILL would have been a stratagem out of the Stasi playbook.

That’s not depression lying. Those are some stone cold realities there.