writing and depression

I went to hear John Irving speak the other day. If you've ever read him, you will know what I mean when I say he writes the same way he speaks. He's extremely entertaining, but takes a very long time to get to the point. In his latest book, apparently he touches the issue of psychotherapy, particularly the use of antidepressants.

A year ago, a doctor of mine, ex doctor I should say... prescribed antidepressants for me. I suspect she was just trying to avoid more questions, but it is quite an experience when you are presented with that prescription. Like getting a ticket to the big game, or admission to some exclusive club.

I filled the prescription. I have it in my vanity drawer (no, not THAT drawer) as a reminder. I don't believe in them, though I'm willing to accept that some people need to have them. I knew that what I really needed was someone to talk to, someone who cared, not someone I paid. It always reminds me of that scene in Pretty Woman, the movie, where Julia Roberts has her legs wrapped around Richard Gere in the bathtub and says "that's 29 inches of therapy wrapped around you" (or something like that)

Anyway.... Irving says that depression is like plotting. It is all about the connections:

We don't really have any control over where events take us emotionally. A small argument takes on proportion that no one anticipates because it dredges up the feelings of another time in our life when bad things happened, and that feeds on itself to remind us of another and another and another until our emotions are spiraling so far that we are officially depressed. The options are to work through it, or distract our minds or bodies with something else... some people are compulsive exercisers, for example ... Irving was a wrestler. Others turn to drub abuse, still others turn to other addictive behavior... gambling, sex, whatever. The difference is that when introducing the chemical substances, whether legal or illegal, you redirect the mind from the connections ...the emotional issues that spiraled into the depression in the first place, severing the one-to- another links of the unrelated events. So for a writer, that is creative suicide, (in his opinion.)

It is the same theory I've always tried to explain... that emotional highs and emotional lows go hand in hand with writing. if I am happy, I am rarely able to string sentences together. It seems only in the rollercoaster ride, either up or down, that I personally can spend time creating worlds.


So depression isn't always a bad thing. And truly, I'm not an unhappy person. I tend to use my friends though, so if you feel used, I guess I owe you a bath. My legs are a little shorter than Julia's, I'm sorry to say.

I have more notes, but I'm feeling nerdy enough already.