Birthday Depression - Cured or Simply in Remission?

Three years ago I sat down to write a blog entry for Slightly Nutty. My recent birthday had been a day of dark thoughts, with a sense of underlying menace. Not because of anything that happened on the day but due to an undercurrent of feelings concerning what was then my forty-sixth birthday. I called the entry ‘Hit by pre-birthday depression’.

The response was strong. The entry became the most widely read of my entire blog, with 1,810 page views. It seems there’s a bit of a syndrome out there. A lot of people fall into a heap at this time, and then kick themselves in the guts because they feel guilty about not appreciating the efforts of friends and family to help them celebrate. Others simply feel sad because their loved ones don’t show their appreciation on the one day of the year that it matters most. Many of those who commented thanked me for sharing a common experience that doesn’t very often get an airing.

A year later I suffered a much milder bout of birthday depression and decided to record what I’d learned about the phenomenon to date. This second entry was also popular, with over 1,100 page views.

In that second entry I reluctantly gave some suggestions for dealing with birthday depression. I didn’t want to tell people what to do, or imply that they shouldn’t be feeling bad, when I knew many would already be feeling guilty. Much of the awfulness of birthday depression stems from the belief you have no right to be feeling so bad.

Well, I’ve just had another birthday. And like an eccentric doctor who operates on herself, I was curious to see how I’d go this year. It wasn’t what I expected at all.

A low-key celebration

First, I need to set the scene a bit. I have a rather fractious family. Given that we’re Irish Catholics, a group that tends to operate in closeknit clans, it’s taken me more than half my life to realise that this is an intractable situation and I don’t have to try and change it. So for the second year in a row, I chose not to spend the day with any of my four sisters. There was no acrimony. Three of them phoned me to deliver birthday greetings – I’m planning to catch up with one of them next weekend – and the other sister delivered greetings via Facebook.

So what did I do instead? I went out to lunch with a friend, to a cheap cafe in a vibrant, eclectic part of town that served the Middle Eastern food I crave (Balaclava Road East St Kilda for the Melburnites). Afterwards I had afternoon tea with my parents, who spoiled me with flowers and a very welcome monetary gift. Then I went home, answered my phone messages (which led to some cosy chats), and lounged in front of the television, alternating between watching it and reading a good book.

And guess what? I felt fine.

Why the change?

In reporting my experiences I want to make it clear that I’m not making any generalisations. The many comments I received suggested to me that the experience of birthday depression is different for each person who suffers it. ‘Depression’ is a catch-all term anyway that is often used to mean sadness or grief.

So while I would love what I say to be useful, I’m certainly not saying ‘I beat birthday depression – you can too.’ Quite the opposite: birthday depression is very common, and the only recommendations I would make is that people let themselves experience it, be nice to themselves, and take their needs into account when planning the birthday. But the mystery of why there was no birthday depression for me this year is still worth solving. Here are my theories:

Grieving in advance. Over the past few years as I’ve hit my late forties I’ve been grieving quite a bit for past mistakes and the direction my life has taken romance-wise. In the last year or so I’ve reached a much greater level of acceptance of where I’m at. Perhaps I am finally accepting ‘life on life’s terms’. (Not that I don’t get angry sometimes – I do – but for some reason the anger didn’t surface on my birthday.)

Planning the birthday to take into account my family’s shortcomings. From my years of celebrating birthdays with my siblings, I knew I’d end up feeling bitter and angry if I included them on the day. So for the second year in a row I spent the birthday without them. It was easier this year for everybody because it wasn’t a new thing. I felt not a shred of guilt. I freely admit that I’ve been lucky that my family have simply accepted this and yet were still able to wish me well on the day – not all families would be this forgiving.

Writing and sharing the experience. The experience of blogging about birthday depression and receiving so many positive responses to the entries has empowered me and given me the courage to explore the process more deeply in myself. I’m very grateful to all the people who have commented, and I sincerely hope you’ve been able to adjust your celebrations to minimise the pain.

Preparing for the feelings. I told myself it would be okay to feel sad on the day, and allowed any feelings to come up in advance.

Lowering my expectations. Just as I’ve let some of my most cherished dreams go (not completely of course – they are still there, but I accept my present) so over the past three years I’ve learned to adjust my expectations of the birthday. I plan ahead, choosing activities that are in line with where I’m at, and don’t expect the birthday to be super-fantastic. (I’ve had to learn to do this gradually – don’t feel guilty if you find this hard to do, or don’t want to.)

In fact I felt so light, cheerful and special on the day itself that the following day I found myself with a whole new phenomenon on my hands – post-birthday depression! No flowers,  birthday greetings, gifts or trips out for lunch. It was back to normality, and I didn’t like it one little bit.

Having said all that, my fiftieth is coming up next year, and if I don’t experience a new round of wailing and gnashing of teeth on the day and in the lead-up to it, I’ll be quite surprised. But at least I have a whole year in which to farewell my forties.

Please note: if you're suffering ongoing depression then you may need to speak to a professional. These words are no substitute for medical advice - please seek help if you need to.

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The Tyranny of the List: How to Break Free of Your ‘To Do’ List

Lists are great things. They help give us focus and remind us of things we need to do. They’re essential in most work situations. They’re useful for remembering to buy a present or ring someone, keeping appointments, getting what you need at the supermarket, and completing an urgent admin task to avoid getting fined or penalised. And they’re absolutely indispensible in goal setting. They can also be important for people suffering depression or struggling to fill unstructured time.

But.

Every now and then they need to be ditched. I’ve discovered that letting myself off the ‘list-leash’ on a regular basis can be a good thing, even if it’s just temporary. If you’re fond of lists, or you want to become more spontaneous, it could be a worthwhile exercise to have a list ‘holiday’, no matter how short. (If you’re a bit chaotic and just starting to use lists to get more focused, it’s probably not a good idea – yet.)

Not that it’s easy. Truth to tell I’m addicted to lists, especially the daily ‘to do’ list. Writing the list and then ticking the items off once I’ve completed them gives me a sense of comfort, security and achievement. Perhaps you’re the same. Sometimes not doing something that we strongly believe we need to do right away, even if intuition is telling us to leave it for now, can be excruciating.

And that’s part of the problem.

Over the last two decades or so I’ve worked very hard to develop and trust my intuition. One of the reasons for this is my tendency to behave in quite compulsive, driven ways. Many of my actions over the years resulted in putting much energy into particular aims, goals or activities that weren’t right for me.  All too often the form – getting something done and ticking it off – was more important than the worth (and sometimes timing) of the behaviour. I would complete a task or work towards a goal in a bloody-minded way, while completely failing to listen to the faint intimations within that were gently telling me what I really needed to be doing at that particular time.

I’m now much more intuitive, but this ability has been hard won (wish I’d learned it when I was a young ’un!).

In the past six months or so I’ve noticed that, especially where the weekend is concerned, I  write my ‘to do’ list and then often partially, and sometimes completely, ignore it. That’s because my intuition is telling me to do something completely different. I might end up sprawled on the carpet watching DVDs on a Saturday afternoon instead of mopping the floor, or staying home and writing instead of meeting up with a friend (or the opposite).

The results have been fascinating. When I ignore the list, I follow my energy, and yet things still get done, although not always in the timeframe I’d envisaged. When the right time to mop the floor comes, the energy is magically there to do it. Or suddenly I might get the urge to do some yoga in the lounge room instead of having to force myself. And after my slothful afternoon watching DVDs, hey presto! I’m recharged and ready to face the world again.

 What if you procrastinate?

There’s  a really important caveat here. Following your energy isn’t the same as procrastinating. I may still not want to mop the floor (in fact I never do; it’s the domestic task I hate the most, with cleaning the bath coming a close second). But the energy is there once I start, and the task is done in an optimum way.  If you’re trying to overcome procrastination it may be a challenge to ditch a  ‘to do’ list, but it could still be a worthwhile experiment.

On the other hand, list-ditching can sometimes help with procrastination. Imagine you’ve been planning to get a Twitter account. You’ve been putting it off because you assume it’s going to be difficult and complicated, and the more you think about it the more trouble it seems. Then one day when you’re being spontaneous your energy leads you to Twitter and before you know it, you’ve signed up. Spontaneity can help ditch the overthinking that can lead us to put things off.

None of us has unlimited energy or time. We’re all trying to juggle various roles, interests and activities. When I trust my energy and  throw the list away, even for a short while, I find I get a surprising amount done with less effort.

I don’t want to make out that I’m some sort of spontaneity saint. Quite the opposite. In fact at the moment I’m itching to update my long-range goal list; I’ve let this go for a while and I’m really feeling the need to have that structure again.

But even when I give myself the safety and structure of a list, whether it’s a daily or long-range one  – and as I’ve said, I need daily lists during the week – there’s flexibility in it. If something doesn’t feel right to do at a particular time, I won’t do it. Sometimes it may feel right to do at a later time, and sometimes not at all. I still keep my A4-sized  diary open on my desk, reminding me of any appointments or particularly urgent tasks.

Ditching the list can be especially valuable for creativity. We all know that the muse doesn’t turn up at scheduled times (although self-discipline encourages it to do so – that’s a separate topic). Being willing to drop everything and write a book chapter, complete a sketch or strum the guitar for half an hour means you make the most of your creative energy.

An exercise for the list-addicted

If you’d like to be more spontaneous, you could experiment with ditching your ‘to do’ list, but you don’t have to go all the way.

One option is to write your daily list and then simply give yourself permission to ignore it if necessary. Try doing one or two things on the list, and see how that feels. (Better still, write your list slowly and intuitively - you may be surprised at some of the items you end up with!)

Another option is to give up the list for, say, a few hours. Write it, but give yourself a few hours off, or don’t write it at all until halfway through the day.

The more daring option is to have an entire list-free day – scary but fun! Enjoy the ride!

I’d love to hear about where you are with  ‘to do’ lists – whether you’d like to become more disciplined with using them, or are trying to be a bit more spontaneous.

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Killing Your Darlings: How to Delete Material from a Manuscript without Tears

When you’re working on an extended piece of writing, whether it’s a novel, memoir or other form of non-fiction, editing is one of the most important and painful tasks. Hard as it is to face, much of what we write has to be ultimately turfed, chucked out, trashed. Whatever word you use, it’s all the same – it won’t belong in the piece. It will interrupt the flow, confound the narrative, or have the wrong tone.

Information on the practical aspects of editing your work is widely available, but it doesn’t make the emotional part any easier. Knowing a piece of copy isn’t right doesn’t make it any easier to cut out.

But it’s not all bad news. You don’t actually have to trash what doesn’t belong. In fact, there are many options for putting it to a completely new use. Below are some suggestions.

Store deleted text in a separate file. Don’t simply delete the text you need to discard. Create a file with a name that makes it easily identifiable, eg ‘Copy deleted from memoir’. Cut and paste any deleted copy into that, separating each piece of text with a line break. Even if you never use the copy, you’ll have a record of it. In the case of a memoir, you’ll retain scenes that have emotional resonance for you. View these scenes as the textual equivalent of the deleted movie scenes sometimes included on DVDs as extras – worthwhile revisiting for their own sake.

Make different versions of your manuscript. If you complete a draft of your manuscript before making major structural changes, you’ll probably have a strong level of emotional involvement with the earlier draft. In the case of a memoir this may be particularly strong because the earlier draft may include more information about your life, and what made you the person you became, than the later one. Retain two versions of the manuscript: the long version and the edited version. Publish the shorter version to rave reviews(!) and keep the long version as a record for your personal archive.

Repurpose text to create a new piece of writing. Deleted copy could become the basis for a new story, article, poem, play or blog entry, or perhaps a whole book!

A description of an eccentric relative or a significant trip could become the basis for an article that is published in a newspaper, magazine or journal, whether in hard copy or online. (This could be used as valuable publicity for your published book, as the bio that would accompany your piece would mention your book).

A descriptive line from a novel could become the inspiration for a poem.

A real-life incident that had to be cut from a memoir could become the basis for a short story, play or novel.

Alternatively, it might be the starting-point for a second memoir dealing with aspects of your life the first one didn’t. Augusten Burroughs, the acclaimed author of Running with Scissors, has now written a total of six memoirs, including three collections of stories from his life. Kathryn Harrison, author of acclaimed memoir The Kiss, has completed three memoirs and a book that is a combination of memoir and travelogue. (She has also published six novels, some of which deal with the lives of her maternal grandparents.)

Condense the copy and use it somewhere else. You don’t always have to explain everything in detail. Sometimes a paragraph or scene contains information that has value for readers but could be expressed more succinctly. My memoir originally included a scene in which my sister and I were taunted by a group of non-Catholic schoolchildren on the way to school. I deleted the scene because it wasn’t pivotal and made the memoir too lengthy, but its emotional import remains in the line ‘Would they laugh in my face when I cried, like the state school kids laughed?’

Describe your experiences of editing when you publicise your book. Readers are fascinated with the process of constructing an extended piece of writing. As well as the technical aspects, they’re curious about the emotional ups and downs that come with the territory, and the ways in which the writing impacts on real life. If you’re giving author talks to publicise your book, discussing what you took out (or left out) of your book and why, and the process of editing in general, can be rewarding for readers. It can also be the basis of an article itself – as this blog entry testifies!

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