Running, Depression, and Anti-depressants
Question:
- Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – My doctor is wonderful but he’s at a loss when it comes to this topic; he has suggested I give up my dream of running a marathon by 40. I’m sure your doctor is good, but medicine for athletes is a complicated subject. Runners are especially…interesting. Doctor: "I’m sorry, but your leg’s broken in two places." Runner: "Does this mean I should cut back to 40 miles a week?" If your doctor isn’t sure about you running a marathon, perhaps he can refer you to a specialist in Sports Medicine who might be able to help. If a second opinion doesn’t help, remember that bipolar is a hot research area. Maybe in 5 years they’ll have a drug without lithium’s problems. Running a marathon after 40 is cool in it’s own way – I did something at 42 that I never did before in my life! Rob
I think running a marathon at *any* age is pretty cool! But my goal is fairly moderate (I think), since I still have 3-1/2 years to go. And I don’t care if it takes me 8 hours to cross the finish line (it probably will, I’m so slow), as long as I do. jen
Response:
Hey, Rob! Theory is one thing. Personal experience is entirely different. Some of you might remember me as the diabetic who viewed adversity as a personal challenge that I’d have fun grinding into the dust. Well, a couple months ago, I found out something – it doesn’t work for depression.
[snip] It’s very good to have you back. We’ve (OK, I can’t speak for others but in this case, I don’t think there’ll being any bitchin) missed your expertise and commentary. I’m sorry that you’re having to deal yet another life situation and wish that I had the magic pill/words. I can’t even offer specific suggestions but can offer support. It’s not as much as I’d like. FWIW, I’m very glad to hear you say that you’re using all avenues for remedy. Part of my background is physiological psychology but I’m definitely *not* convinced that medication only is the way to go – there’s too much interaction between the physical and situational (much like diabetes). It’s my opinion that everyone deals with depression in varying degrees. I certainly don’t want to sound like I’m trivializing what you’re doing (I’m not). Anyone who’s felt overwhelmed to the point of overload/helplessness has dipped into depression. It’s too bad that some people feel that either a person has it or they don’t – tain’t true, we’ve all got it. The issue, IMHO, is how we need/have to deal with it. You’re approach is a good one. What I’m trying to say (badly) is that people really aren’t alone, even when it seems like it. I also agree that an LSD is not enough, wlthough it may help on occasion. 
I really hope you’ll hang with the r.r group for my own purely selfish reasons – I like hearing what you have to say. Layne
Response:
Theory is one thing. Personal experience is entirely different. Depression is somehow humiliating. It’s a big secret you’re supposed to hide. People claim it’s a lack of faith in God, as if Job or Elijah never got depressed. They say that if you’re depressed, you’re not good enough or strong enough or you don’t run enough. Yeah, right. Rob
Rob, I’ve suffered from Dysthymia nearly all my life, but only diagnosed with it about 10 years ago. I haven’t taken anti-depressants at all, most weren’t geared for this level/type of depression until recently and most of those that are geared have side effects, which often gets in the way of running. It turns out, from what I’ve read, that running produces similar chemical reactions in the brain that anti-depressants do, so running is by far the better choice for me. Even a low mileage bad walk-run is better than sitting on the couch worrying. Over recent years I’ve added once, sometimes twice, weekly weight training which also helps both the running and perspective on life and running. Being and feeling physically fit is probably the better anti-depressant I’ve found. At 52 the label of depression doesn’t bother me very much anymore. It bothers some, especially bosses sometimes, when they don’t understand it or the effects work have on it. Some research has shown that depressed people sometimes have better a perspective on life and work. They often see things too realistically, after all life is too often depressing, and it simply overwhelms them. But they can also sometimes see the bigger picture clearer than others but seeing realisticaly. So don’t knock it or someone with it. Listen and talk, you both will learn something. There are some types of depression you can get over, or better through, and some types that don’t or won’t go away, they’re a part of your overall being. Dysthymia is one of those. All the pop-psychology won’t "fix" it or make it go away. You live with it, in any way you can. Running, I’ve found is the best, and it makes you a better and healthier person. "That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it." – Jimmy Buffet –Scott–
Response:
Oh Im not addicted to running. I would MUCH rather go to the Macaroni Grill for lunch, have some pasta milano and a glass of Chianti than run 4 miles at the Y…. -but I won’t let myself. Oh well, maybie I’ll take the wife there on Thursday. As for the shoes?? Bought em last night. Brooks.. The Beast!…. I can’t wait to try em out! http://www.holabirdsports.com/cgi-bin/product?product=041067&group=5 db
– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I find when I DONT run regularly, I get depressed like this: I just don’t get excited about much of anything. When I run almost everyday, my back hurts and Im a little tired for the rest of the day, but I feel great. Don, There’s a lot of reasons why this might be occurring, and most of them are pretty healthy. Running does all sorts of things mentally and physically – it helps your body control the blood glucose better, it strengthens your heart and lungs, it gives you an accomplishment and improves self-worth, it makes you realize how smart you are ("I’m taking care of myself!"), it relieves stress, all sorts of things. The worst thing I can think of is that you’re addicted to running – assuming running isn’t so important to you that it’s destroying relationships and your work, I’d say that’s a pretty good thing to be addicted to. IANAPsychologist, but I imagine it’s even possible that you have some minor level of depression for which the only treatment you need is running. In any case, the standard shrink question is "How’s it working for you?" If it’s working fine, smile! I would get the back checked, though, first by a doctor and (if he/she finds nothing) a decent running shoe store and a coach or exercise physiologist. It might be something simple to correct, in which case, why suffer? Hey, it might even improve your times! Rob
Response:
If I remember right, one of the symptoms of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome is that of malaise after exercise. To continue to exercise under those conditions is to refuse to surrender on a level I haven’t reached! <snip Rob
Well … yes some CFS people feel rough after exercise, but if you realise that ‘exercise’ can range from ironing a shirt for work right through to a triathlon, there’s a lot of scope for not feeling rough – and most people on this ng seem to feel rough after excessive exercise anyway. It’s just that with CFS excessive can sometimes be as little as getting out of bed in the morning 
I am no hero – I just think that if I have to feel bad, it’s better if I achieve something before the feeling bad hits me! K
Response:
Brian, This is something I’ve figured out. Now if only I can figure out how to actually internalize it. You’d think a 200 lb. marathoner would have given up years ago caring what people think.
In my experience, one’s biochemistry can make one more prone to caring about what people think. When I’m depressed, I care a lot, I am quite sensitive, and it makes me even *more* depressed. Cause-effect: fix the depression, and you won’t care so much. jen
Response:
Rob, I know what you are going through. I haven’t forund the miracle cure for my depression. What I have found: Running is helpful. If I set a reasonable and challenging workout and complete it I feel better. Medication has helped me. It has somehow given me a platform and I am no longer afraid of my mood crashing into the abyss. Therapy has helped. I think it has given me tools to halt the cycle of depression so that my own psychology doesn’t help feed whatever mood disturbance is occurring. Actually, I can’t give any real advice. There are a lot of experts out there. I will say that for me letting others know what I am going through almost always helps. A few will be insensititve or uncaring. This is really there problem. Next time they ask how you are doing, they get the standard reply "Fine" Let everyone else have the privilege of knowing just where yo are at. Peace.
– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – Theory is one thing. Personal experience is entirely different. Some of you might remember me as the diabetic who viewed adversity as a personal challenge that I’d have fun grinding into the dust. Well, a couple months ago, I found out something – it doesn’t work for depression. Diabetes keeps my body from making use of the chemical energy it has. Depression keeps my mind from making use of the mental energy it has. Perhaps I didn’t lose it entirely. As soon as I realized I was depressed, I sought out a psychiatrist and psychologist. I figured "Hey, if drugs work about as well as talk therapy, let’s try both!" I was pleased to find out the folks I’d chosen to go to were heavily involved in sports psychology. Both docs were thrilled that I was a runner – they consider that to be a crucial part of treatment for depression. That the depression has screwed up the running had them very concerned, especially since I am a diabetic. Why am I depressed? Good question. Being a diabetic, I’m at increased risk for depression, but that’s just a statistical correlation, and really doesn’t provide an answer. Maybe it’s brain chemistry, maybe it’s something I’ve done (or not done). Maybe it’s getting that book on Quantum Gravity and finding out that it takes hours to work through even one equation. Depression is somehow humiliating. It’s a big secret you’re supposed to hide. People claim it’s a lack of faith in God, as if Job or Elijah never got depressed. They say that if you’re depressed, you’re not good enough or strong enough or you don’t run enough. Yeah, right. Anti-depressants only screw up my running when they don’t work. Even a 4 mile workout can be overwhelming when you’re depressed, and the thought that I might not be able to run the Pittsburgh Marathon this year is even less cheering – they’re finishing inside Heinz Field (the new football stadium and home of the Steelers!) (The depression started way before the Steelers/Patriots game. Man, that Monday morning after, the whole town looked depressed.) So far, we haven’t found the magic pill or magic words. Some times I feel like a lab rat – "let’s see what this pill does!" I’m not going to give up. Maybe I’ve lost the "oomph" to enable me to destroy the depression in my life, but I still want to dance on its grave, and the sooner the better. I’m not posting this so that you’ll all say I’m some sort of brave person or anything like that. I’m just an ordinary person trying to make the best of a lousy situation. I hope that by writing this, other depressed runners out there will know that they’re not alone, and that someone else understands what they’re going through. Maybe those that have been reluctant to go for help will be willing to try. Maybe those who have gone for help and the first drug or two haven’t worked out will stick it out until they find something that works. And maybe the non-depressed runners will understand that it takes more than just picking yourself up, dusting yourself off, and doing another long-slow-distance workout. Rob
Response:
Why am I depressed? Good question. Being a diabetic, I’m at increased risk for depression, but that’s just a statistical correlation, and really doesn’t provide an answer. Maybe it’s brain chemistry, maybe it’s something I’ve done (or not done). Maybe it’s getting that book on Quantum Gravity and finding out that it takes hours to work through even one equation.
Rob, First when I read your post, I knew just what you were talking about and the other posters. You have nothing to hide here. There are plenty of us who have gone through more than the "blues". It is like a hole you can’t get out of, but you _want_ to. Looking back I was probably a depressed child, but then that is not going to brought up here as to why. Much too personal. It has been sometime ago that I got caught up in that hole and with the help of anti-depressant and counseling, I came around. I too went in with a sense of humor. I told the therapist I felt like my head was like what your Christmas tree lights look like after you drag them out of the attic. So tangled up. You have to untangle them all and lay them out in lines. I was the one who showed one emotion but acted another way. I think Layne would know the correct term for this. . Anyway, "why" is a tough question. Coming to face to face with "why" is so hard, and scary. I quit therapy half a dozen times. Just when you get to things the mind just can’t deal with. I just wanted you to know I have not been on Zoloft for years. I am me, and work on things as they come along. I have better "coping" skills. I learned them. The poster who made the comment about deciding who’s opinion counts is so important.People will always say derogatory remarks but who cares. Most hold no value to them. Find safe people. You need a safe person to unload on. Running one mile was impossible at one time. I would stop and walk. I know my :"whys" now and I have faced them. They are not pleasant and will never be revealed except to the man I marry, should it even need be. Just talking about life and things. I will share then. Maybe I’ve lost the "oomph" to enable me to destroy the depression in my life, but I still want to dance on its grave, and the sooner the better.
I tried also to destroy it. I needed some help. I think asking for help was harder than getting it. Had a great doc who sat and talked to me while I cried, and she said, she has been depressed. I am like you??? You are beautiful, an MD, married and have twins. How could you be depressed. She was the turning point for me. Her openness and humanness she showed me. I grew up in "Leave it to Beaver’s Home", meaning distortion of reality. Rob, I want you to get well. You will. Running will get easier, and your days lighter. Just be you. To be honest with you, your note brought a tear to my eye. Laurie
Response:
Well, if you can’t stop worrying about what people think, can you at least pick which people’s opinions you worry about? Because then you could pick Brian. And since Brian’s opinion is that you should do what it takes to deal with the problem, and to heck with idiots who think/say differently, that would seem to be a step in the right direction.
Pat, While your statement is highly logical and wise, I’m also glad that I wasn’t drinking coffee at the computer when I read it. The shift key is already acting up, and another spit take will probably kill this keyboard. Thanks for the laugh and wisdom. Rob
Response:
… People will say and think a lot of very stupid, uninformed, unenlightened, and absurd things. My (unsolicited) advice: Forget them. You have a problem that needs your attention. You have to deal with it in what seems to be the best way. What somebody else might think about how you should feel or act is irrelevant. When I figured this out for myself, my life got a lot easier. This is something I’ve figured out. Now if only I can figure out how to actually internalize it.
Well, if you can’t stop worrying about what people think, can you at least pick which people’s opinions you worry about? Because then you could pick Brian. And since Brian’s opinion is that you should do what it takes to deal with the problem, and to heck with idiots who think/say differently, that would seem to be a step in the right direction. Pat P.S. — I agree with him. Hang in there, and ignore the idiots.
Response:
My doctor is wonderful but he’s at a loss when it comes to this topic; he has suggested I give up my dream of running a marathon by 40.
I’m sure your doctor is good, but medicine for athletes is a complicated subject. Runners are especially…interesting. Doctor: "I’m sorry, but your leg’s broken in two places." Runner: "Does this mean I should cut back to 40 miles a week?" If your doctor isn’t sure about you running a marathon, perhaps he can refer you to a specialist in Sports Medicine who might be able to help. If a second opinion doesn’t help, remember that bipolar is a hot research area. Maybe in 5 years they’ll have a drug without lithium’s problems. Running a marathon after 40 is cool in it’s own way – I did something at 42 that I never did before in my life! Rob
Response:
Depression is somehow humiliating. It’s a big secret you’re supposed to hide. People claim it’s a lack of faith in God, as if Job or Elijah never got depressed. They say that if you’re depressed, you’re not good enough or strong enough or you don’t run enough. Yeah, right.
Rob: People will say and think a lot of very stupid, uninformed, unenlightened, and absurd things. My (unsolicited) advice: Forget them. You have a problem that needs your attention. You have to deal with it in what seems to be the best way. What somebody else might think about how you should feel or act is irrelevant. When I figured this out for myself, my life got a lot easier. Know that you are in the prayers of people you don’t even know. Brian Jones
Response:
Hi Rob, Good to have you back! We sure do remember you and have missed you. A couple weeks ago we were wondering where you were. I hope things work out for you, and you triumph over one more challenge. You’ve done it before. Hang in there. Dot
Response:
… People will say and think a lot of very stupid, uninformed, unenlightened, and absurd things. My (unsolicited) advice: Forget them. You have a problem that needs your attention. You have to deal with it in what seems to be the best way. What somebody else might think about how you should feel or act is irrelevant. When I figured this out for myself, my life got a lot easier.
Brian, This is something I’ve figured out. Now if only I can figure out how to actually internalize it. You’d think a 200 lb. marathoner would have given up years ago caring what people think. Although I have to admit, I sort of treasure the comment I heard coming from a car cruising by for about the 8th time while I was doing an 8 mile workout - "How far IS that old fat guy going?" I’m not sure why, but that’s one of the most encouraging things anyone ever said to me…. I may be depressed, but I still have a decent sense of humor. Rob
Response:
Invisible conditions make those who have them either invisible or defensive or very honest. I am still in the defensive phase but trying to be honest – it sounds like you’ve got there with depression and I applaud you for that (not your bravery, you’ll note, just your ability to call a spade a f***ing shovel) and for getting past the big hurdle which is the one where we deny there’s anything wrong with us!
Kay, If I remember right, one of the symptoms of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome is that of malaise after exercise. To continue to exercise under those conditions is to refuse to surrender on a level I haven’t reached! Usually, I call a spade a "Manual Entrenchment Tool," but only because it’s a joke that appeals to my warped sense of humor. I probably wrote the message I did for two selfish reasons. One, the people here in rec.running are pretty understanding and accepting, and it’s helpful to know someone somewhere understands and accepts. Two, if I can make anyone else’s journey easier because of what I can share, then there’s a purpose for my suffering, which for some reason means it hurts less. I guess as selfish motives go, those aren’t too bad…. Rob
Response:
- Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – Theory is one thing. Personal experience is entirely different. Some of you might remember me as the diabetic who viewed adversity as a personal challenge that I’d have fun grinding into the dust. Well, a couple months ago, I found out something – it doesn’t work for depression. Diabetes keeps my body from making use of the chemical energy it has. Depression keeps my mind from making use of the mental energy it has. Perhaps I didn’t lose it entirely. As soon as I realized I was depressed, I sought out a psychiatrist and psychologist. I figured "Hey, if drugs work about as well as talk therapy, let’s try both!" I was pleased to find out the folks I’d chosen to go to were heavily involved in sports psychology. Both docs were thrilled that I was a runner – they consider that to be a crucial part of treatment for depression. That the depression has screwed up the running had them very concerned, especially since I am a diabetic. Why am I depressed? Good question. Being a diabetic, I’m at increased risk for depression, but that’s just a statistical correlation, and really doesn’t provide an answer. Maybe it’s brain chemistry, maybe it’s something I’ve done (or not done). Maybe it’s getting that book on Quantum Gravity and finding out that it takes hours to work through even one equation. Depression is somehow humiliating. It’s a big secret you’re supposed to hide. People claim it’s a lack of faith in God, as if Job or Elijah never got depressed. They say that if you’re depressed, you’re not good enough or strong enough or you don’t run enough. Yeah, right. Anti-depressants only screw up my running when they don’t work. Even a 4 mile workout can be overwhelming when you’re depressed, and the thought that I might not be able to run the Pittsburgh Marathon this year is even less cheering – they’re finishing inside Heinz Field (the new football stadium and home of the Steelers!) (The depression started way before the Steelers/Patriots game. Man, that Monday morning after, the whole town looked depressed.) So far, we haven’t found the magic pill or magic words. Some times I feel like a lab rat – "let’s see what this pill does!" I’m not going to give up. Maybe I’ve lost the "oomph" to enable me to destroy the depression in my life, but I still want to dance on its grave, and the sooner the better. I’m not posting this so that you’ll all say I’m some sort of brave person or anything like that. I’m just an ordinary person trying to make the best of a lousy situation. I hope that by writing this, other depressed runners out there will know that they’re not alone, and that someone else understands what they’re going through. Maybe those that have been reluctant to go for help will be willing to try. Maybe those who have gone for help and the first drug or two haven’t worked out will stick it out until they find something that works. And maybe the non-depressed runners will understand that it takes more than just picking yourself up, dusting yourself off, and doing another long-slow-distance workout. Rob
Hi Rob, Thought I’d post to tell you you’re not alone, and I do know what you’re going through. I don’t care what you say, I think you are very brave to post this, so here, I will be brave, too: I have been dealing with manic depression for 5-6 years now, possibly quite longer. I experience relatively moderate depressions and not so moderate manias. When the depression first hit, I self-treated by running. However, when depression turned to mania, I couldn’t *stop* running. It became, well, an obsession. Mania causes severe insomnia. I would snap awake at 4 am, after only two hours’ sleep, and hit the gym when it opened up at 5 am to pound madly around the indoor track for an hour or more before work. Often I would *also* run over lunch break, and *then again* after work. I just had so much energy, and it had to go somewhere. It was during a manic period that I completed my first 10-miler (the most I’ve ever run in a race). Finally I was diagnosed and put on lithium, which helped tremendously, however, it makes you gain weight, does weird things to your joints, and you must be extremely careful to stay hydrated or else you can overdose. This greatly interfered with my running, as did the "woe-is-me" self-pity…… and, there was a part of me that wondered if the running hadn’t somehow triggered the mania……. and so, I stopped running altogether for the past 4 years. I took it back up again following a layoff, the Sept 11th tragedy, and what I now realize was a hypomanic episode that had been slowly creeping up on me for months, which September life events only worsened. I threw myself right back into running with way too much manic enthusiasm (uh, running at all hours of the night? what was I thinking!!!), and promptly injured myself. The injury, which forced me flat on my back for weeks, also catapulted me straight into another depression. I *now* know that running doesn’t make me manic, mania makes me want to run. I *now* know that running, without a doubt, does help to alleviate my depressions. I *now* know that my mood swings are a product of my biochemistry as well as stressful life events beyond my control, and I must be careful and take care of myself during such events. That includes a MODERATE running program, and meticulous record-keeping to ensure I can spot overzealousness, a symptom of impending mania. Knock on wood, I seem to have stabilized for now. And if I had a nickel for every person who’s suggested I can "will" this away, I’d be rich! If I could, believe me, I would have by now. There is only so much in my control, and I’m doing the best I can. One of those things within my control happens to be taking my meds. Thanks for your inspiring post, Rob. jen p.s., If anyone else on this board is dealing with bipolar disorder and wants to write me privately to discuss related running issues, particularly relating to lithium, I would greatly appreciate it. My doctor is wonderful but he’s at a loss when it comes to this topic; he has suggested I give up my dream of running a marathon by 40.
Response:
I find when I DONT run regularly, I get depressed like this: I just don’t get excited about much of anything. When I run almost everyday, my back hurts and Im a little tired for the rest of the day, but I feel great.
Don, There’s a lot of reasons why this might be occurring, and most of them are pretty healthy. Running does all sorts of things mentally and physically – it helps your body control the blood glucose better, it strengthens your heart and lungs, it gives you an accomplishment and improves self-worth, it makes you realize how smart you are ("I’m taking care of myself!"), it relieves stress, all sorts of things. The worst thing I can think of is that you’re addicted to running – assuming running isn’t so important to you that it’s destroying relationships and your work, I’d say that’s a pretty good thing to be addicted to. IANAPsychologist, but I imagine it’s even possible that you have some minor level of depression for which the only treatment you need is running. In any case, the standard shrink question is "How’s it working for you?" If it’s working fine, smile! I would get the back checked, though, first by a doctor and (if he/she finds nothing) a decent running shoe store and a coach or exercise physiologist. It might be something simple to correct, in which case, why suffer? Hey, it might even improve your times! Rob
Response:
Theory is one thing. Personal experience is entirely different. Some of you might remember me as the diabetic who viewed adversity as a personal challenge that I’d have fun grinding into the dust. Well, a couple months ago, I found out something – it doesn’t work for depression. Diabetes keeps my body from making use of the chemical energy it has. Depression keeps my mind from making use of the mental energy it has. Perhaps I didn’t lose it entirely. As soon as I realized I was depressed, I sought out a psychiatrist and psychologist. I figured "Hey, if drugs work about as well as talk therapy, let’s try both!" I was pleased to find out the folks I’d chosen to go to were heavily involved in sports psychology. Both docs were thrilled that I was a runner – they consider that to be a crucial part of treatment for depression. That the depression has screwed up the running had them very concerned, especially since I am a diabetic. Why am I depressed? Good question. Being a diabetic, I’m at increased risk for depression, but that’s just a statistical correlation, and really doesn’t provide an answer. Maybe it’s brain chemistry, maybe it’s something I’ve done (or not done). Maybe it’s getting that book on Quantum Gravity and finding out that it takes hours to work through even one equation. Depression is somehow humiliating. It’s a big secret you’re supposed to hide. People claim it’s a lack of faith in God, as if Job or Elijah never got depressed. They say that if you’re depressed, you’re not good enough or strong enough or you don’t run enough. Yeah, right. Anti-depressants only screw up my running when they don’t work. Even a 4 mile workout can be overwhelming when you’re depressed, and the thought that I might not be able to run the Pittsburgh Marathon this year is even less cheering – they’re finishing inside Heinz Field (the new football stadium and home of the Steelers!) (The depression started way before the Steelers/Patriots game. Man, that Monday morning after, the whole town looked depressed.) So far, we haven’t found the magic pill or magic words. Some times I feel like a lab rat – "let’s see what this pill does!" I’m not going to give up. Maybe I’ve lost the "oomph" to enable me to destroy the depression in my life, but I still want to dance on its grave, and the sooner the better. I’m not posting this so that you’ll all say I’m some sort of brave person or anything like that. I’m just an ordinary person trying to make the best of a lousy situation. I hope that by writing this, other depressed runners out there will know that they’re not alone, and that someone else understands what they’re going through. Maybe those that have been reluctant to go for help will be willing to try. Maybe those who have gone for help and the first drug or two haven’t worked out will stick it out until they find something that works. And maybe the non-depressed runners will understand that it takes more than just picking yourself up, dusting yourself off, and doing another long-slow-distance workout. Rob
Response:
I find when I DONT run regularly, I get depressed like this: I just don’t get excited about much of anything. When I run almost everyday, my back hurts and Im a little tired for the rest of the day, but I feel great. <shrug db
Response:
Theory is one thing. Personal experience is entirely different. Depression is somehow humiliating. It’s a big secret you’re supposed to hide. People claim it’s a lack of faith in God, as if Job or Elijah never got depressed. They say that if you’re depressed, you’re not good enough or strong enough or you don’t run enough. Yeah, right. I’m not posting this so that you’ll all say I’m some sort of brave person or anything like that. I’m just an ordinary person trying to make the best of a lousy situation.
<snip of honest and realistic post Rob, although I can’t comment on depression, I can recognise your position. Like a couple of others on this ng I have been diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome – that thing that was once known as ‘yuppie flu’. CFS is a ’shame illness’, people don’t like to admit to it – hell, I don’t like to admit to it! And it robs you of your motivation … it leaves you unable to put one foot in front of the other but you ‘look’ just fine and people tend to assume you are just feeble. Invisible conditions make those who have them either invisible or defensive or very honest. I am still in the defensive phase but trying to be honest – it sounds like you’ve got there with depression and I applaud you for that (not your bravery, you’ll note, just your ability to call a spade a f***ing shovel) and for getting past the big hurdle which is the one where we deny there’s anything wrong with us! I choose to run, when I can, because however slowly I do it and however short the distance, I’m putting one foot in front of another in my own way and although it may not look stylish to anybody else, it’s a style that I prefer to the shuffle-step of giving in to my ‘condition’. Running is a lonely business, perhaps that’s why so many of us do it – but illness is a lonelier one and on the days I can’t run I feel very alone indeed. The big boost for me is when I see another runner and I think ‘I’m a runner too.’ Even if that week I haven’t run, I run when I can and that makes me a runner – it’s a choice I make in the face of an illness that tries to stop me making choices. Depression may be that kind of illness too – in which case you’re fighting your battle on a territory you’ve chosen and win, lose or draw, you’ve at least made the choice to fight! Kay
