DEPRESSION- IS THERE ANY POSITIVE?

[white knight]

I've mentioned in some of my posts (I'm a newbie) about how I believe there is, in nearly everything we do and experience, something positive out of a negative.

I have depression among my other issues of bipolar 2, dysthymia and anxiety. When in a depressive state  often sufferers think there is nothing they can do about it except 'wait it out'.  That is so true. We feel helpless. Friends and family feel even more helpless and powerless.

What I find amazing however is the long list of people in show business and other unusual occupations that have/had depression or other mental illness.  Here is a short list-

Buzz Aldrin, Woody Allen, Alec Baldwin, Jon Bon Jovi, Jim Carey (classic ADHD etc), Agatha Christie, Winston Churchill, Eric Clapton, Sheryl Crow, Jonny Depp, John Denver, Diana Princess of Wales, Bob Dylan, Harrison Ford, Angelina Jolie, John Lennon, Abraham Lincoln, Marilyn Monroe, Marie Osborne, Dolly Parton, Brad Pitt, Jessica Rowe,  J.K.Rowling, Vincent Van Gough, Robbie Williams, Brian Wilson, Oprah Winfrey, Kurt Cobain, Patty Duke, Stephen Fry, Mel Gibson, etc

That list is a small number of those listed on wiki.  Clever talented people that all have extreme ability.  Is it just possible that YOU have some form of ability that is unique to you? Just like these people?

For me I found it in 1994 in the form of poetry.  And here's my point- If I had not had the extreme emotion I possess....I would not have written any of my 250 poems I've written.  Most of my poetry is highly emotional, can make people cry, can sooth those that have lost a loved one by 'connecting' with the emotions of the one that grieves.  This seemed a small progress in my character at the time for I wasnt diagnosed until 2003 9 years later.  So initially I brushed it off as 'just becoming a poet'.  But it was soooo much more than that.  Firstly it was a way of discovering my inner thoughts, creativity and emotions. Secondly it was a tool of self therapy and thirdly it immersed me into a world of my choosing away from all other distractions.  For every poem I've kept in my folders I've thrown away 10 or so that were not up to standard. Daily I pick up a pen when a good or bad thought enters my mind and I start writing.

As sufferers of mental illness you might already have your specialised hobby, talent.  If not then consider searching for it.  You are unique, there is nobody on this earth the same as YOU. The nearest is if you are a twin.  Even then YOU are YOU. You are beautiful, there is only one.....of you. 

My wife is finishing off a scarf. She has already made a beanie and mittens. We are to drop them off to her mothers as a late mothers day gift on Wednesday...2 days time.  They are unique, they are full of love, they are INVALUABLE!  PRICELESS! They are so much more that knitted wool.

We battle depression and its a struggle.  We can also try to help ourselves with altering our state of mind even minutely. Finding your own talent might help. Good luck

[White_Rose]

Dear White Knight

What a fantastic post.  I am in awe of your insights.  So many of our public figures now admit to some form of mental illness, a topic that was strictly taboo only a few years ago.  And yet they do much with their lives.  I know (of) all these people and I am inclined to agree with you.  Perhaps depression, anxiety or whatever is the price we pay for our various creative talents.  The list can be extended to include many famous composers who struggled depression etc and yet produced sublime music.

And yes, if we can tap into our creativity maybe we can bear the pain of our illness.  I find my crafts a source of pleasure and joy when I am feeling in despair, yet when I am 'well' I work at them less often.

I hope that others will respond to this intriguing topic.

Regards

White Rose

[Neil_1]

Hi White Knight

You might well be a newbie, but you’ve fitted into this community, oh, a bit like a hand into a lovingly knitted woollen mitten might fit.  Perfectly.  🙂

I enjoy all your posts and this one is no exception.  Digging deep into the thought bank and to try to eek out some kind of positiveness from all the gloom that we wade through on a daily basis.

Yes, that list is certainly a who’s who of celebrity’s and stars – not to mention Peter Sellers either.

Have you had any of your poetry published or is it purely for your own ‘home library’?

Kind regards

Neil

ps:  great to see that your cousin "White" Rose was the first to chip in with a response.  🙂

[white knight]

Thankyou so much for your comments White rose and Neil1. Very nice. I've tried o get my poetry published without luck. Poetry alone doesnt sell well nowadays (unless its cryptic lol). However I have a manuscript with poetry in it that I'm re-writing for the 3rd time this winter, now that I'm retired. It is sections of my life that I lived suffering the illnesses that I had when  I didnt know it.

As an example 1977 after leaving the RAAF I joined the prison service and worked in Pentridge Jail. At this time two characters of both extremes emerged.  The toy soldier as I call him and the sook.  The toy soldier was the 'uniformed one' the disciplinarian, the one with the outer armour. The sook was the poet, the kind one the emotional brittle.  Both characters war with each other, always at odds.

In the end decades later, the sook won out. 

Jeff Kennett years ago agreed to write the forward if I found a publisher.It's called Black clouds dancing

BLACK CLOUDS DANCING

It takes a special kind of man to sense the hurt and grief

Unlike other 'mates' smiling in the street,

They beat their chests all day but never see the harm

Conquer another nameless lady then return to farm

No wonder us men stand by trees, beside us an empty seat

Few mates take the time to know nor take the time to meet

You took the time to trust and you took the time to ask

It wasnt easy for me to admit I couldnt do the task

You saw the black clouds dancing just above my head

Tinted it grey then blew them away by using tact instead

It takes a special kind of doctor to sense to hurt, the harm, the grief

Thankyou for not being like the others- that smile in the street.....

About 8 years ago I put my poetry to good use. To contact others that had lost loved ones through tragic circumstances. I expected zero in return. Little did I know the personal rewards I'd get back in love and friendship.

Of course having issues to manage myself I've had to keep in check my input as I can get dragged down myself. But as I'm getting older I pretty much can forecast that now. 

Like my manuscript, my feeling is that my experiences and my own mental issues can be used to help others. We balance on a thin edge of not being qualified to treat but our advice could be invaluable.  I thank you again. I enjoy your posts also and I too benefit from your words. 

BLACK SHADOW

A single digit of hand

Upstanding shadow of mine

Telling me where to go

Trouble is - I do

Seeking escapism I run

But he follows closely

My feet siamised

Last resort I make peace

Two digit "V" sign hoping

   -single digit return

.......must be the devil in me....

White Knight

[HelenM]

Dear White Knight,

I really liked your post. It connected with a lot that has been on my mind for a long time now. I have so often thought, what does my depression achieve. 

I don't know if this makes sense but the 'me' that has depression is the same 'me' who is very sensitive to others and gave so very much to bring up the kids. Had I been more selfish I wouldn't have become ill but neither would I have handled the problems in my family with such sensitivity. My depression is, I think, the price I paid to help my kids grow up to be grounded adults. Don't get me wrong, they had a good Dad (my ex), but he is incredibly robust both mentally and physically and could handle the difficulties.

Also, people with depression learn how to help others. The best listeners in my depression have always been other depressives.

I have read that we can let suffering ennoble us or embitter us. I try to become a better person through it. 

And I crochet baby shawls. This hobby really flourishes in my depression as I can't be bothered with other things.

So yes, I really agree with you and no doubt there are lots of lovely, able people here.

Debs

[geoff]

dear White Knight, actually it's a great username as it's reflected in your post.

We have to scratch our heads when we look at the list of people you have mentioned, all brilliant in their own way, so they virtually have reached their goal, or have risen to the top, but it's a high achievement that really can't be sustained forever, just like an opera singer, once they hit their highest tone, that's it, they can't go any higher, so the only way is downwards, and that's what has happened.

So we go from one of the richest like Oprah Winfrey, to man who reached the highest point Buzz Aldrin, to smartest and quick witted and probably the hardest person ever to have a conversation with Robbie Williams, so depression has no boundaries at all, it doesn't give a damn who it destroys, but who can hold it at bay, and that's the concern. Geoff.

[White_Rose]

Dear White Knight

Love your poetry, please give us more.  Have you considered self publishing?  My sister wrote great poetry and her greatest wish was to see it published.  Ironically I only knew about the poetry the last time I saw her.  She lived in England and died of cancer in 2004.  I promised her I would get the poetry published and ended up self publishing.  The company I used was happy to arrange publicity but I could not afford this.  I had published my sister's work and both her daughter and I were happy.  I hope she is also happy.  From memory I think it cost $1,000 - $1,500.

It involved a lot of work for me.  The company gave me some ideas about illustrations but I did the research and sent them the illustrations I wanted for each poem.  The final copy is great.  I'm not interested particularly in selling the book or anything of that nature, too lazy.  But everyone in the family has a copy.  So I'm happy.

As a comment to your original post, my sister also had depression and had cancer for many years. She had several operations and a great deal of chemotherapy which made her feel ill.  Yet despite all this turmoil, plus divorcing her husband, she still found to write and gained comfort from it.

I would love to be able to paint well.  What I laughingly call my painting is very basic but it gives me enjoyment, which is the whole point.

Regards

White Rose

[white knight]

Thankyou for your replies and encouragement.  These will hit the mark I think.

SOCIETY OF SAND

I'm sitting on a desert

upon sand of friend and foe

Cant find a piece of turf

where I cannot stand on toes.

I collect a handful of grain

Then watch as it escapes

Just like some friendships

a barren temporary landscape.

I create my own oasis

by weeping on a weed

but the sand around me laughs

because it doesnt have a need.

Till lately it be my friends

that helped me walk the land

they holding me up under my feet

-supportive grains of sand.

I begin to sink so slowly

as a few gather my precious hide

the quick sand laughing so loud

a proud man says goodbye.

And as I become one of 'them'

my heart now granulled and dry

I try to weep to water the weed

but sand has no means to cry.

Damn it !  I struggle so

be damned if I be like them

I crawl out of the society of sand

- to remain the man I am....

         White Knight

LEGS OF SPOKE

How can I let them know?

When the dark exceeds the glow

When the sun hides behind the clouds

Silence they hear...but I scream so loud.

Some stand beside a 6 foot hole

Shake their heads and see its toll

They ask how he could have dropped

Out of the circle -a forget me knot

Yet they seem to see clear and there is hope

When they sight a person with legs of spoke

A crippled girl pushing her chair

A man be manic- there's no one there.

"Storm in a tea cup" hurts so bad

Like the cyber crow who remains so glad

Keeps flying and in full flight

Achieves his art...in the middle of the night

For some in power see it their way

Even at the side of a 6 foot grave

Shake their head and call out "why"

"Why on earth- he didnt have to die".

So kind some be they reach out so true

Smile away "we want to meet you"

Bring along your vintage car and your smile"

But leave - what's behind your dial.

So we laugh and dine and all's ok

Leave at home come what may

If I be saddled with legs of spoke

They'd lift me around- bloody good bloke.

But as my mind hurts so bad

Cannot hide my feelings- mad?

Can no longer be bloody good bloke

Sometimes I wish.....

                                 I had legs of spoke......

White Knight

[Maureen]

Dear white knight, in one of your responses to a post of mine you mentioned I should read this post of yours. Thank you so much for the suggestion. I have found comfort, encouragement, empathy in all of your posts I have read but this one makes me cry. In a good way. BB is very lucky to have you assist all of us with your wisdom. You are the positive to our depression. Thank you so much.

[white knight]

Dear Maureen,

You have taken my breath away. What a beautiful response.

As for crying I have another article if you google "Topic: is crying good or bad for you- beyondblue" . Another read.

We don't often get replies like yours. The community champions here are so for nil reward, sufferers of their own demons but fortunately well enough to help others. Please continue reading, I believe this forum is one of the greatest aids to those with mental illness issues. We are here for you.

Tony WK