How To Write When You’re Depressed

Well, my depression is back.

I’ve been on medication for depression and anxiety for two years. After suffering for over a decade, it’s not an exaggeration to say that Lexapro changed my life.

But I learned this year that I have recurrent major depressive disorder. In the spring and fall, my depression likes to come for a months-long visit. 

Am I happy that I struggle to get out of bed and show up for my life six months of the year? No. 

But am I happy to KNOW this? Abso-fucking-lutely.

Before, I thought I was broken. I thought something was wrong with me because I couldn’t “people” the way others could. My inability to be productive, shower, and keep my house clean were obvious character flaws. If I just tried harder, if I were just better, I’d be able to do the things I should.

I know now that’s not true. There is absolutely nothing wrong with the way my body and brain work.

I don’t need to apologize for having depression and anxiety. I don’t need to apologize for prioritizing my wellbeing. And I don’t need to apologize for not being able to produce all the time. (Capitalism, anyone?)

I’ve learned a lot this year and I want to share those things with you.

You do not need to apologize for the body you were born in or the way it responds to life.

So many of the systems we live within tell us we should be able to change our conditions, because good people don’t suffer from (insert your condition here) and, if you work hard enough, you can fix your problems. 

What a load of runny shit.

We do not choose our genetics. We do not choose the systems we live in. We do not choose our life experiences.

So much of who we become is out of our control. 

That means we don’t need to apologize for struggling or needing accommodations or taking mediation or moving at a slower pace.

You don’t need to repent for having bipolar disorder, ADHD, PTSD, ASD, anxiety, a chronic illness, a disability, trauma, or any of the many other things our bodies experience.

Your body and brain are unique, and you are okay just the way you are.

Honoring your body honors your writing.

Powering through your body’s needs doesn’t help, it makes things worse. 

It’s tempting to think that if you set a big enough goal, plan a lot of activities, or have a clear enough intention, your body will accommodate, but it actually can’t. 

You may be able to push through, but there will be repercussions: exhaustion, worsened symptoms, missed obligations, and of course, the inevitable guilt for not being “better.”

You exist within your body (your brain is part of your body), and respecting and honoring your body is the best way to reach your writing goals.

We each need to evaluate our capacity, goals, and shoulds within the context of our bodies’ needs.

For me, honoring my body means keeping my mental health in mind as I set goals—I may not be able to hit the same income goals as some of my peers, and that’s okay. I must be intentional with my schedule, so I have more downtime in the Spring and Fall. I spend money hiring folks to keep my business running so things don’t grind to a halt when my depression hits.

What can your body and brain realistically accomplish and in what time frame? What’s your body’s cycle? What’s truly important to you and what can you release? Where can you build in support?

It is okay if you can’t write every day or even every week. It is okay to write in cycles. It is okay to take breaks. You do not need to NaNoWriMo your way to a novel you’re proud of; you deserve the gift of writing slow. 

You are the roots of your story tree, so the more you honor your body, the better your book will be.

You are not alone.

No matter what your diagnoses (or undiagnoses), there are others sharing your experience. The shiny, happy, neurotypical, able bodied photos of Instagram are illusions. 

Your experiences are valid, your needs are legitimate, and you do not have to earn your worth.

Community makes it so much easier to believe these things.

If you don’t have a community of people who share your struggles or are open about their own, find one. If you don’t know where to look, hi, have you heard about the Rooted Writers Mentorship? 

One of the unexpected joys of the Mentorship is the normalization of real life struggles and cycles. We don’t pretend. We don’t pull ourselves up by our bootstraps. Folks in the Mentorship are honest about their needs and challenges, and it’s so refreshing.

We need your story, so please don’t give up on your writing when your body isn’t performing the way you want it to.

There are readers who need you to not give because they need to know they aren’t alone.

That’s why I’m writing this blog post, because I want you to know you aren’t alone.

You are okay just the way you are, you do not need to fight against your body, and you are exactly where you need to be.