48 Depression is the constant gnawing of an unnamable and insatiable need. *** “Think happy thoughts.” Those were my mom’s words whenever I mentioned the thick fog of unhappiness that hung over me. Happy thoughts were her version of happy pills. In her world, if I remained miserable, then that was my fault for choosing to focus on the negative. It was wonderful advice; if she wrote a self-help book she would put millions of psychiatrists out of business. The problemwith thinking happy thoughts while experiencing depression is that in the absence of happiness, there is no such thing as a happy thought at all. There are only thoughts. I did try to focus on happy things. My first strategy was to revisit things I knew used to make me happy. One day, I took my favorite childhood book off the shelf to reread it, but found that some unknowable force was holding my focus hostage–I sat with the book in my lap for two hours before I realized that I had been reading the same three paragraphs over and over, unable to get past the first page. Discouraged, I placed it back on the shelf, where it would gather dust. There was no point in reading. I quickly discovered that there seemed to be no point in anything. *** I couldn’t get out of the shower. I was curled up in the fetal position, frigid water running down my back. The hot water had run out at least fifteen minutes ago, and I still hadn’t washed my hair or my body. All I wanted to do was return to my bed and sleep for a very long time. Most people, upon completing a task like showering, feel a burst of satisfaction, or at least of relief. (“Hey, you ate a vegetable and socialized today! Good boy. Have some dopamine.”) But when depression took away my emotions, it also took away my capacity to feel pleasure. My ability to self-motivate was completely gone–even for the basic tasks that were supposed to keep me alive and healthy. Showers became a daily battle. Sometimes I would forget meals for days at a time–or, if I didn’t forget, I was overwhelmed by the effort it would take to eat them. I withdrew from other people, staying home from school as much as I could. Missing homework assignments piled up, and so did mountains of dirty clothes. I think I was aware even then that neglecting myself was making my condition worse. Underlying
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