No bad parts

Not long ago, my husband asked why I’ve always been unafraid to make enormous changes in my life.

He went on to explain that other people seem to contemplate change, imagine a different reality, plan and plot but never take action. Their desire for consistency, comfort, and certainty trumps any wondering about the unknown.

Despite what I’d like you to think, bravery is not what drives me towards change. The motivating force behind my ability to step into uncertainty is depression.

My mental health motto used to be, “Fuck depression. It sucks.”

As I grow wiser (I’ve stopped using the phrase “grow older”.), I am slowly befriending my mental health and am beginning to embrace the ways depression serves me.

When I reflect on seasons in my life which have been highly transitionary, each one of them has been preceded by depression. It seems that my brain is incapable of ignoring even the tiniest seedling that something in my life is in misalignment. The longer I push aside an inkling, not wanting to pay attention, the more it takes root, grows larger, and eventually wraps its tendrils around every thought.

As I sink deeper into melancholy, I begin to realize that unless I address the issue, the vines will continue to squeeze until I suffocate. Take action or be pulled into the dark depths of the soil. For me, there are no other options.

Do I wish my brain worked another way? Often. 

But in retrospect, I can see that my depression serves as a pause. In the context of my busy life—full of obligations and distraction—my mental health slows me down so I can evaluate the situation. It is only from this place that I feel inclined to make the massive, necessary shifts to improve and evolve my life.

As author and psychologist Richard Schwartz Ph.D. teaches, there are no bad parts of us. Every trait we have developed has served a purpose—to protect, to cope, to motivate. In my forties, I am beginning to believe this to be true. We need to acknowledge and honor even the most inconvenient aspects of ourselves.  

And, I can honestly say that while every massive change I have undertaken has been terrifying (and the preceding depression, no fun at all), it has also paid off one way or another. Have I known that in the moment? Hell no! Any sane human will (and should) question their own drastic choices. Was this epically stupid or outrageously brave? TomAto, tomato. Only time will tell.

After talking with my husband, I took a moment to look back at my history of decision-making. I can confidently say that even when outcome of my choices were harder than anticipated, I have learned a lot.

You need to look back to keep moving forward. Many of us panic in the gap between where we’ve been and where we’d like to be. One strategy which reminds us to dig deep and keep moving forward is to pause and look back on how far we’ve come. If we only look forward, we will only be reminded that we aren’t there yet. And, the target keeps moving as we achieve and re-adjust our goals.

Whenever I am in a moment of unsurmountable doubt, I make a list of all the audacious choices, small wins, and life-changing wisdom I’ve acquired through striving for change. Asking “What have I gained?” reminds me that progress, no matter how small, is still forward movement.

You cannot change by remaining the same. If I truly desire to alter my life and create more balance, adventure, and joy I have to let go of anything which feels stale (but safe). Drastic difference requires drastic action.

Become a barnacle upon someone who’s already done the hard thing. You don’t know what you don’t know. When embarking upon a new chapter, the best thing to do is find someone who has achieved what you desire, or who has survived the giant obstacle and come out thriving. Educate yourself, find a mentor, and emulate those who’ve already found success.

Regardless of the outcome—lifechanging win or dumpster fire disaster—I will always be proud that I tried, that I attempted to claim a lifestyle I wanted live rather than be trapped in one that wasn't fulfilling. Even when I fail, I  become a better, smarter, wiser human. No regrets.
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Thank you, Depression.