Beyond Blue

I have decided to dedicate a post on Thursday to therapy, and offer you the many tips I have learned on the couch. They will be a good reminder for me, as well, of something small I can concentrate on. Many of them are published in my book, “The Pocket Therapist: An Emotional Survival Kit.”

Working out your distress quite literally–by running, swimming, walking, or kick-boxing–is going to give you immediate relief.

On a physiological level.

Because exercise increases the activity of serotonin and/or norepinehrine and stimulates brain chemicals that foster growth of nerve cells. In fact, some recent studies have suggested that regular exercise can be just as effective as antidepressants to lift a mood.

And emotionally.

Because by wearing a stylish sweat suit and sneakers we become the sergeant with a whistle, taking charge of our health and giving orders to our mind and body, even if our limbic system, tummies, and thighs are in sorry shape and curse us for forcing them to move or do a sit-up.

You don’t have to be training for an Ironman to feel the antidepressant effects of exercise. Even picking the weeds and watering the flowers have been shown to boost moods. However, I have found kickboxing especially effective because you can visualize the fellow who is responsible for your pain and hi-yah him in the face.

Now doesn’t that feel good?

If you sprinkle a hefty dose of Catholic (or Jewish) guilt unto a fragile biochemistry headed toward a severe mood disorder, you usually arrive at some kind of a religious nut. Not that there’s anything wrong with that! For I am one.

I have said many places that growing up Catholic, for me, was both a blessing and a curse.

A blessing in that my faith became a refuge for me, a retreat (no pun intended) where my disordered thinking could latch unto practices and traditions that made me feel normal. Catholicism, with all of its rituals and faith objects, provided me a safe place to go for comfort and consolation, to hear I wasn’t alone, and that I would be taken care of. It was, and has been throughout my life, a source of hope. And any speck of hope is what keeps me alive when I am suicidal.

But my fervent faith was also a curse in that, with all of its stuff (medals, rosaries, icons, statues), it dressed and disguised my illness as piety. So instead of taking me to the school psychologist or to a mental health professional, the adults in my life considered me a very holy child, a religious prodigy with a curiously intense faith.

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We often equate darkness with sorrow, misery, get-me-the-hell-out-of-here reaction. At least I do. That’s why I keep a mammoth Happy Lite on my smallish cubicle at work.

But darkness can also be a treasure.

Say what?

J. R. Miller writes this in “From Streams in the Desert” by L. B. Cowman:

In the famous lace shops of Brussels, there are special rooms devoted to the spinning of the world’s finest lace, all with the most delicate patterns. The rooms are kept completely dark, except for the light that falls directly on the developing pattern, from one very small window. Only one person sits in each small room, where the narrow rays of light fall upon the threads he is weaving, for lace is always more beautifully and delicately woven when the weaver himself is in the dark, with only his work in the light.

Sometimes the darkness in our lives is worse, because we cannot even see the web we are weaving or understand what we are doing. Therefore we are unable to see any beauty or possible good arising from our experience. Yet, if we are faithful to forge ahead and “if we do not give up” Gal. 6:9, someday we will know that the most exquisite work of our lives was done during those days when it was the darkest.

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Last year on this day, I got fired. That was a real pleasant Groundhog Day. I was so confused by what had happened that I drove around the D.C. beltway twice. I missed my exit, and realized that halfway around the second time.

I just thought on this day, you could probably use some winter depression busters, too, although I know I published them last month.

Let’s call a spade a spade: winter sucks for some of us. So, little marmot, I don’t care what you do. I don’t care if you get yourself a nice rat for dinner, I’m sticking to these techniques regardless of whether the hairy little thing sees his shadow or not!

1. Watch the sugar.I think our body gets the cue just before Thanksgiving that it will be hibernating for a few months, so it needs to ingest everything edible in sight. And I’m convinced the snow somehow communicates to the human brain the need to consume every kind of chocolate available in the house. We are mammals, yes, so do we think we need an extra layer of fat in the winter to keep us warm? I’m starting to think so.

Depressives and addicts need to be especially careful with sweets because the addiction to sugar and white-flour products is very real and physiological, affecting the same biochemical systems in your body as other drugs like heroin. According to Kathleen DesMaisons, author of “Potatoes Not Prozac”: Your relationship to sweet things is operating on a cellular level. It is more powerful than you have realized….What you eat can have a huge effect on how you feel.”

2. Stock up on Omega-3′s.

During the winter I’m religious about stocking in my medicine cabinet a Noah’s Ark supply of Omega-3 capsules because leading physicians at Harvard Medical School confirmed the positive effects of this natural, anti-inflammatory molecule on emotional health. I treat my brain like royalty–hoping that it will be kind to me in return–so I fork over about $30 a month for the Mac Daddy of the Omega-3s, capsules that contain 70 percent EPA (Eicosapentaenoic acid). One 500mg softgel capsule meets the doctor-formulated 7:1 EPA to DHA ratio, needed to elevate and stabilize mood.

3. Give back.

Ghandi once wrote that “the best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others.” Positive psychologists like University of Pennsylvania’s Martin Seligman and Dan Baker, Ph.D., director of the Life Enhancement Program at Canyon Ranch, believe that a sense of purpose–committing oneself to a noble mission–and acts of altruism are strong antidotes to depression.

The winter months are a good time to do this because the need is greater, the holiday spirit ideally lasts until February, and you don’t have the excuse of attending family picnics, unless you live in California or Florida.

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