An Adventure in Pathetic Fallacies

I wanted to blog about what it's like to live with depressive and anxiety disorders. 

Wanting things is never straight forward when you have mental health problems. 'Wants' come with a lot of complications. When I say 'I wanted to' I meant 'I felt obliged to but didn't have the motivation, concentration or inspiration to'.

Fortunately, inspiration eventually came forth in the form of the snow that is currently blanketing the UK. 

I am fully aware that using a blank picture (of snow) as a metaphor for An Idea isn't the traditional way of expressing inspiration, but it works for me. I'm used to my brain buzzing with the force of a thousand bumbling bees, so being able to think clearly and coherently is a gift.

The above isn't why the snow inspired me, however. The snow inspired me by reminding me of 'pathetic fallacy' - a type of personification. Writers often employ pathetic fallacy by reflecting the mood of characters in their environment. One classic example is using rain as a backdrop for a crying session. Here is another example.

Pathetic fallacy is often used when writing about mental illness.

It is quite often said that depression, or indeed any form of chronic mental unease, is like being followed by a cloud. I disagree. Clouds can be nice. If clouds form in a certain way they can sometimes resemble a family of turtles playing volleyball. Mental illness very rarely resembles even a SINGLE turtle playing volleyball. Clouds aren't sufficient. Let's take it one step further - hell, let's climb the entire staircase of hyperbole - having depression/anxiety is akin to living permanently in the midsts of a brewing storm.

It's miserable. It's unpredictable. It's inescapable.

Here is where I drag out this analogy to a tenuous degree: those with no history of mental health problems spend a lot of time in the sun, (if you live in the UK, suspend your disbelief for now please). Some days will be greyer, colder or wetter than others, but you will experience the weather as it happens. You know that soon enough it will be sunny again, and then you'll feel fine. The only exception to this is if you are in the BNP - in which case, anything that isn't a snow day is a bitter disappointment.

Mental illness strips you of the ability to experience the weather as it happens to everybody else. You are trapped in your own micro-climate of damp, dark and static. There are treatments, of course. Anti-depressant or anti-anxiety medications are the equivalent of being handed a torch and an electricity resistant suit. Counselling can play the role of a meteorologist, helping you to understand how to storm formed around you and predict lightning. It has to be said, however, that it takes a while to find a psychotherapist who is better at predicting and preventing mood than the average weatherperson is at predicting and preventing weather. 

There is another form of therapy which appeals to the Platypus of Reason and is very popular with the NHS. It is called Cognitive Behaviour Therapy - or CBT. Some motorcycle shops also offer this as an initiative to improve road rage, which I think is wonderful.*

CBT was developed to 'fix' some of the distorted thought processes which can develop due to mental illness. After a while of living with depression/anxiety it can become difficult to believe that other people live life in the sun; these people don’t understand why you are always cold and pale, and you don’t understand why they have a tan. CBT allows you to remember that the sun is out there, but it doesn't necessarily allow you to feel its warmth. As somebody with an already irritatingly vocal Platypus of Reason, (seriously, they need gagging at times), I have not personally felt a huge benefit from CBT but I appreciate its merits.

Another consequence of depressive and anxiety disorders is that you quickly get used to living life in the storm. You become sensitive to any gaps in the cloud - they’re frightening. You wear sunglasses because any light is alien. Sun burns your skin. Happiness hurts, positivity feels like a lie and other people are irritating as they remind you of what you don’t have.

I wanted to end on a positive because I know that's good writing practice, but I'm afraid that's a 'want' that will have to wait for now. So, in lieu of a happy ending, here's a picture of me equipped with anti-depressants and psychotherapy in the middle of my storm.

Yours pathetically,

BT x

*Apparently in this context CBT stands for Compulsory Basic Training and has nothing to do with mental health. Shame.