A Quest

This is a story about a quest, and also not a quest.

Like stories, quests are contained. They have a beginning, a middle, and an end. This story has one such quest, but the other is not, because it is a quest to battle anxiety. I do not say defeat anxiety, because it is not something that can be defeated like one would slay a dragon. It is part of the daily, ongoing quest that is called living. Most mental health problems are like this; they cannot be fought and "cured," only tamed.

Quests are also like stories because most stories, and especially those from mythology, are about quests. A hero goes on a journey, to find, to capture, or to kill, and eventually to return. These days, our heroes are found in books and movies, and our quests are found in video games, in which you are the hero and you complete the quests.

Most importantly, quests have a purpose, a goal. This is why stories and myths appeal to us: they bring meaning and order to life, which is inherently meaningless and purposeless. (If you disagree with me that life has no over-arching purpose -- as opposed to the small purposes that motivate the actions of living things -- that will have to be a discussion for another day.)

So anyway, I got this adult coloring book.

Jigsaw puzzles are my favorite anxiety-reducing pastime, but they take up a lot of space and aren't very portable. Though to be honest, my absolute favorite way of dealing with anxiety is computer games, but sometimes they have too much associated guilt (as in, "I really shouldn't be playing video games"). Which means sometimes they only reduce anxiety for the duration of time I play them and increase it the rest of the time. So sometimes I need a stress-reducing activity that I not only enjoy, but is grandma-approved. Hence jigsaw puzzles.

Anyway, adult coloring books have been getting good reviews, so when my mom asked me what I wanted for my birthday months ago, that's what I said.

It turns out she probably forgot even having that conversation, because she asked me again just a few days before my birthday. Annoyed, instead of reminding her of what I actually wanted, I told her I wanted World Peace.

This is what I have to show for my snark:

I have to say, it is one of her better gifts.

But now I really wanted an adult coloring book. Could I buy one online? There's no Norway branch of Amazon, so I would have to try to avoid customs fees and pay international shipping. Blargh.

This is where the anxiety beast rears its ugly head. It is always there, curled up in the corner, but now it lifts its head and turns to me, snorting in a condescending way. It is visually striking, very pointy, and red; not really ugly, exactly. Its ugliness is on the inside.

The quest that is not a quest has now taken shape. I want to do a thing that should be a reasonably stress-free thing to do, but anxiety gets in the way. Sometimes that just happens. Sometimes your brain turns mundane things into huge, large, BFDs. Or, at least my brain does. (The anxiety beast is in my mind of course, because it is mine; it is me.) And when this happens, to cut out the "I should be able to do this normal adult thing what is wrong with me?" voice, it helps to think of these as a quest, because quests have a goal, a purpose, and there is loot at the end.

I fully expected to have this on my To Do list for a long time, because dealing with customs or venturing into a new place in search of goods or services are exactly the types of things that give me anxiety, which means I avoid them. (I usually go an unnecessarily long time between hair cuts for just this reason.) Perhaps I am a hobbit at heart and do not like going on adventures. But this quest was for something to help with anxiety, which would help me complete more quests! What to do?

It turns out, this adventure was unexpectedly easy. I avoid the eyes of the anxiety beast. I wander into a local book store, which has plenty of adult coloring books. I pick one. I spend a long time choosing colored pencils. The anxiety beast flicks its tail with impatience. A shorter, but not small, amount of time choosing between two sharpeners. Everything seems as expensive as ordering online with customs and shipping would have been. I worry over that for a bit. I buy them anyway.

The loot is better than I could have hoped. The coloring book is also a treasure hunt, with 16 rabbits, 14 butterflies, 9 spiders, etc. hidden in its pages. (Plus I learn the Norwegian for spiders, "edderkopper," which reminds me of the part in The Hobbit when he's taunting the spiders in Mirkwood with "Addercrop", which makes this "Magical Forest" coloring book even more magical.)

It gets better. Flipping back and forth, I notice that the pages seem to be connected - a picture of a telescope is followed by a zoomed-in image of the Castle, which is at the end of the book. The back has some pages that can be folded out, which I start to do, but first I translate:

"Turn the next page to find out what is hidden in the castle." 

Should I wait until I'm done coloring to see? Then the page before:

"Fill in the nine symbols to unlock the castle door."

Wait a minute.

This coloring book is a quest!


(This is the part of the story with an actual quest. Hooray, you found it!)


Like all good quests, it starts with a map:

From "Den magiske skogen" by Johanna Basford

The map is representative of what you will find on your journey through the pages of the Magical Forest on your way to the Castle: a tree-house village; a lake; a rabbit hole; a hedge maze. I decide to finish it in pieces as I finish the full pages, starting with the compass:

It turns out, these leaves and things are tiny. Coloring this takes a long-ass time, but of course there's no rush. And it takes even longer, because I find myself deliberating over what color to use, like, a lot. I've turned the color choices into a BFD: "I can't make all the leaves green, that would be boring. But leaves aren't orange (and I hate orange anyway!) But wait, leaves can be orange in the Autumn... and these diamond-shaped leaves are magical so they can be blue, and otherwise I wouldn't use blue very much anyway.... but I fucked up with those mushrooms, I should have kept them red...." And so on.

It may sound like coloring is giving me anxiety, but it is not as bad as all that. Sure, every time I have to make a decision, like what color to use for this very special leaf, the anxiety beast lifts an eyebrow as if to say, "Really? That one?" (Did I mention it had eyebrows?) But it's okay. In a coloring book, there is no danger of making myself believe these choices will have a huge effect on my life or alter the course of reality, which I tend to do for other decisions. If my brain is going to turn things into a BFD anyway, it is safe to do so within the pages of the Magical Forest.

It has just occurred to me how different this is from jigsaw puzzles. Maybe those allow my brain a safe space to figure everything out, because unlike life, there is a correct configuration of puzzle pieces, a right answer, and you just have to be smart and patient enough to find it. Maybe jigsaw puzzles help with a different type of anxiety beast. (That one is blue.)

The coloring book also allows you to be creative and to imprint your own meaning, tell your own story. So if I want to turn the compass into a symbol of the yearly cycle, that's exactly what I'll do.

Depressed Thoughts

At least half, if not more, of my depressed thoughts involve trying to figure out my depressed thoughts:

What is this.... am I feeling lonely? But I was hanging out with cool new people this weekend. Am I afraid? Why can't I just do what I need to do... Is it because people expect things of me? I had a good run of not being depressed, but that seems to be coming to an end. But I was feeling so good yesterday! How do other people manage? Why can't I focus! I just need to make some plots, just get something going. My brain is out to get me again. I'll never make it as a scientist...

It is the ultimate mindfuck. I become at war with myself. "Oh man, I suck because X and Y." "But X and Y are irrational, and what's more, not even true. Here's some empirical evidence." "I know, I'm so irrational! I SUCK!"

I've read better descriptions of how depression messes with you, but they are lost on the internet.

Currently, I'm not quite at the "I SUCK" part, and nowhere near the complete lack of motivation for anything phase, but my brain feels like cotton and I feel inadequate. Even writing this is making me feel guilty, like I am making up excuses for laziness.

So, what can I do about it?

My first response was to eat some chocolate. But my bar of Green & Black's 85% is getting small. Then I started writing this. Next I will identify some small and easy things to put on/check off my To Do list. After that, I might go home. Whether I can go home without guilt is the tricky part. If it doesn't seem like I can get rid of the guilt, I might stare at some code for a while to give myself a chance to do work. I will also look through a special esteem-boosting email folder I started a little while ago, prompted by more internet advice. I don't know whether reading things that once upon a time made me feel good about myself will do the same now, but it's better than letting the depressed thoughts feed on themselves, using my brain as a host.

Finally, what I'm going to do is post this, because writing it seems to have helped. Because even though I'm not looking for sympathy, not making excuses, and even though I'm not that depressed... this shit is real and sucks and I'm going to complain about it on the internet.

Coming Out Depressed

This past May was apparently Mental Health Awareness Month in the USA. I only knew about it because a cartoon appeared on my twitter feed:

The issue is complex, but the point is simple. We don't treat mental health issues the same as physical health issues, and this is to the detriment of our mental health.

Someone I follow (celebrity, not personal friend) shared this, adding something like "I have anxiety and depression and I'm not ashamed." This is a great little cartoon, and a great message to share, but even thinking about re-tweeting it initiated a mini freak-out because I am the person in panel four and I am definitely ashamed... I couldn't re-tweet that part of the message because I wasn't out. I have anxiety and depression, and I'm mostly in the closet about it.

There are a lot of reasons people might not want to talk openly about their mental health. Being in the mental health closet is obviously very different than being in the closet for other reasons - queer, atheist, brony - but I think the unifying factor is a lack of general public understanding and acceptance.

Most of us can imagine what someone else feels when they have a physical illness. So when someone asks, "I haven't seen you in a couple days, are you okay?" you can reply, "I had the flu," and trust that they understand what you mean. They'll say, "Ugh, that sucks," and you both get on with your day. But there is no such universal understanding of mental illness. There is no trust that I can say, "I was depressed," *shrug*, and expect most people to understand. Often just thinking about feeling sad will make me feel sad, so it's not like I want to invite a discussion of sadness. Plus, I don't want to have to deal with other people's reactions to my depression on top of my depression.

What are the things I'm afraid of hearing? Things like:

• Oh no, what's wrong?
• How can I help?
• But you're great and awesome!
• I love you :)

Yes, I know, these may seem like perfectly good responses. But no, I do not want to feel different and special because sometimes my brain decides to make me feel like shit. That is not a cool thing to feel special about.

Here's how I would want to reply to the above reactions:

• Nothing specific is wrong, it doesn't work like that, and yet I can't stop asking myself that all the time hoping if only I could figure out what's wrong I would stop feeling like shit, but thank you for reminding me I feel like this for no good reason. 
• No, there is nothing you can do about it, but thanks for making this about you. 
• I'm glad you think I'm great and awesome. It must be fun having those feelings.
• Sorry, but I won't magically feel better because you love me. Stop smiling at me like that!

The problem is, people mean well. So instead of replying in a satisfying way, I would be stuck managing someone else's feelings at a time when I can't even manage my own. So most of the time, I stay in the closet.

Perhaps you're wondering what the right thing to say is? I can't help you there. I could think of some things that wouldn't bother me personally, but it really depends on the person and the situation and your relationship, and probably also the weather. "Ugh, that sucks" is a good place to start. Increasing your understanding of mental health, especially depression, is a good next step; I'm tempted to try to correct some common misconceptions here, but there are plenty of articles, blogs, and TED talks for the interested.

I guess posting this will mean coming out depressed. I can imagine all kinds of awkward interactions it could result in, especially because I never know who reads this. But I also can imagine that there are many more people who understand than I suspect, because we all rarely talk about it.


P.S. If you are a closeted brony and need someone to talk to, I have seen the documentary and think I am beginning to understand. I won't judge you. Friendship is Magic.

Working While Sick

Sometimes when you're at work and trying to focus on the task at hand, your body has other plans for you. You might have a cold or a hangover and find it hard to concentrate, but since it's not a "real" sickness you stick it out as long as you can... you just drink water and hold off until you can go home and nap because you don't want to take sick time or because missing work due to a hangover is too shameful to imagine.

But for some of us (approximately half), our bodies sometimes sabotage us while at work in another way, not a cold or hangover or depression, that in addition to not feeling like a "real" sickness worth going home for, going home would feel like betraying decades of struggle for gender equality in the workplace.

Of course I'm talking about menstrual cramps.

What to do when you get bad cramps at work? I've come up with a few options:

1. Do drugs. (OTC painkiller)
2. Eat chocolate and pretend it also works as a painkiller.
3. Take a walk until it gets better.
4. Take a walk to find some drugs.
5. Take a walk to your house and stay there.
6. Suck it up and pretend you can still do meaningful work because women can do anything men do including write coherent emails while bleeding painfully from the inside.

Today, not having number 1, I tried number 2 and contemplated 3 through 5 until it passed, which means I successfully carried out number 6. I've done number 5 in the past but there is always the guilt.

I absolutely cannot stand when women are referred to as "the weaker sex." I mean sure, on average men have greater strength and muscle mass, but just because they can - on average - bench press more seems a pretty narrow criterion with which to define a whole gender as weaker. And then I get bad cramps and think, "well damn, this would be quite a disadvantage if I was being attacked by a mountain lion right now" or "if I was out hunting wildebeast" or whatever prehistoric men used their muscle mass for... it was probably for fighting other prehistoric men, but anyway.... my point is, it feels like Nature is trying to remind me that women were intended to be weaker whenever my uterus punches my insides.

Obviously I think it would be better if all sicknesses were treated equally. For anything that makes it impossible for someone to work productively - with the possible exception of the hangover because you only did that to yourself - it should be up to that person how to deal with it, whether they go home, nap on a workplace couch, cry in the bathroom, take a walk, or stick it out and pretend nothing is happening.

Personally, I would suggest having some dark chocolate, because it is possible it also works as a painkiller and may have other curative properties.

Disclaimer: As an academic I can pretty much do what I want, so I don't really know what the constraints are in a real workplace setting when you have a "not quite sickness." This is another reason why science wins.