Big Black Cloud Comes

Hello

So, rather than being a hub of exciting media insight and personal updates my blog has become somewhat silent of late. And what better way to ressurect this place than a chucklesome entry on depression? You see, the reason I've not been blogging is because not only have I been massively busy at work but I've also been through the worst bought of depression I've had in 15 years. Don't worry, I'm coming out of the black cloud a bit now and I've decided to take a course of therapy. But, I thought I'd blog about what depression does to me and what I find helpful in learning to cope with anxiety and the arrival of the black dog. Lots of people suffer from depression and sharing experiences and stories from within can be helpful.

The first time I was hit hard with depression I was 16, almost 17, facing A-levels and living in Kent with my family. That time it was anxiety that was at the forefront, manifesting itself in panic attacks and moments where I was fairly convinced I was going mad. My parents were massively supportive and understanding and I was soon sourced a very good therapist who helped me to put my fears into perspective. I managed to thus start universety in a much better place than I had been before my A-levels. Since then I've suffered from the odd bout of depression but nothing so bad that it's made me seek out help.

Towards the end of last year I wasn't in a brilliant place. The black dog was back, and with a vengeance. This time depression manifested itself as a crushing sense of self-doubt. I'd turn up for work convinced I was utterly useless. In meetings I'd be constantly worrying that I was coming across as a moron and I had the fear that I didn't really know what I was doing after all, and that people would realise I was usesless. Of course, this was the depression speaking. What depression was like for me this time round was having the demon of doubt sitting on my shoulder without the angel on the other side to balance things out. I got increasingly agitated. In the moments when I wasn't morosely silent, I was snappy and unpleasent to be around. Around Christmas time I realised (and prompted by my ever patient and wonderful wife) that I really needed to seek help. So, I went to GP, who told me that there's a six month waiting list for therapy on the NHS but in the meantime I could try out this online Cognitive Behavioural Therapy course called Beating the Blues.

Beating the Blues is actually pretty good and what it's brilliant at is outlining the common symptoms of depression and anxiety and making you realise that they are just that, common, and there are ways of coping with them. Where Beating the Blues doesn't quite work for me is that it sets you homework, like two or three hours homework a week, which I really can't fit in. So I've not yet completed the course, though I really should do and I do intend to get back to it in time. In the meantime I've booked some proper face-to-face therapy.

All through this Alison and Maia (my wife and daughter respectively) have been bastions of patience, compassion and joy. They make me realise how blessed I am and they really do help put perspective on things. Living with someone who occasionally suffers from accute depression must be exhausting and utterly maddening at times. When you suffer from depression you do become something of an irrational person and trying to cope with someone whose mindset can be so contradictory must be very trying. But my family has been incredible and I really couldn't be more lucky than I am to be part of these people's lives.

And working in the creative industries means I have a lot of friends and colleagues who understand depression and who have been there themeselves. To everybody who has offered help and advice and support, I can't thank you enough.

So, that's where I've been and the thing with depression is you just can't predict when it will strike. Oh sometimes I'll have a fairly good idea. Sometimes I'll hear the door go behind me and hear the pad of paws that means the black dog is in the room. Sometimes, though, it's like a tidal wave and it just thunders over you covering everything in, well, black. Each time the dog buggers off or the tide retreats though, I'm learning to cope a little more.

At the risk of this getting all melodramtic, I'm off to bed now. But, I just thought I'd let you know what all the radio silence has partly been about. Soon I shall be off and blogging again, bringing you more exciting Jon news (All Jon. All the time). The oft promised and never delivered  Ramsey Campbell blog post will materialise and I may even blog about gay rights and the Church. Just for fun.

Anyhew, until next time.