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I've waffled for years about publicly writing about my bout with depression. This article you're reading now has resided in my drafts in some form for about two years now. My depression is there as part of me. It runs in my family and consequently I have had to learn to just deal with it. I know it helps when you meet people who have depression and they can actually function. Maybe this article will help somebody out there.

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In September of 2008 one of the greatest writers of our time, David Foster Wallace, committed suicide. He hanged himself. This was a complete shock to me. I enjoyed his work before, but I was unaware of his life-long struggle with depression. Wallace was the writer's writer. He was brilliant and made me look at fiction in a totally new way. After this tragedy, articles started popping up online about the link between his brilliance as a writer and his depression. Sadly, observers are quick to make this link about creative people as if they are show ponies.

While history is full of depressed geniuses the reality is that depression is called "depression" for a reason. Depression keeps its victims from functioning. There is nothing glamorous, fun, or vogue about depression. It is a continuous struggle and those in its throes can ruin their whole lives without caring about much of anything close to a creative thought. My most creative moments have been under a deadline not from within a cloud of self-loathing. Those who think depression is a plus for any artist, writer, or scientist have not slept through life, destroyed their families, or alienated themselves from all of their friends.

In my case, I'm biologically predisposed to having depression. The fact I had a fractured family and my father was in and out of my life like trendy fashion only sealed the depression into my life for good. It came to a head in 2003 when I moved my family from Chicago to the DFW area. I remember lying on my father's couch surrounded by stuff we didn't put in storage. I don't know how long I'd been on the couch but a lot of time had passed; my phone rang and my inbox filled up. I was avoiding clients and caught a clear glimpse of reality. I found a doctor and asked, "how do you know if you have depression?" Since then I've been receiving treatment, but it took a lot to climb out of that hole. Today I realize that even when I thought I was better, I was on my way to getting better but some of the behaviors and feelings still linger.

Around 2007 I left a startup company and inadvertently burned bridges there. I took a full-time job and started my real recovery. Getting by with depression is as much about self discovery as it is about receiving medical treatment. I had to swallow the most bitter of pills: I was not meant to own and run a business. The specific stress associated with self employment pushed my buttons like nothing else. Piss-poor health care, risk taking, unstable income, and especially the sales process were triggers for my depression. After joining Sprint, a company I love more than any other I've worked for, my depression started improving. Having solid benefits and believing in my work started healing old wounds.

The second thing to happen to me was Twitter. My friend convinced me to join Twitter and jump in. Being the introvert I am, I mocked Twitter from the sidelines. However, as someone on Twitter pointed out, it was like study hall. I was connecting with professional people again, something I hadn't done since I lived in Chicago. I branched out and next thing I know I'm in the UX community. I think this is a unique community. I was used to people being protective of their knowledge and territorial with their experience. UX people aren't like that. They are a supportive lot and they encourage each other in ways that was foreign to me. They root for each other at conferences and help each other out with all sorts of problems. I felt at home. The UX movement was at a place I arrived myself, but from a different direction. I have this strange way of seeing how system interlock and I realized I was a UX'er without being called one (more on that in a future article). So Twitter fit like a glove and I've not looked back.

How do I deal with depression? Now I have a set of rules I made for myself that are based on how things should be, not how I feel. Regardless of how I feel, I must follow my rules. My rules include everything from keeping my job to adhering to a regular bedtime, all without getting caught up in the day's feelings. So it's not as easy as it sounds, but it's something I can use to keep me anchored. I know when I'm  too far away from them and I correct myself. Feelings can betray me at a moment's notice but pre-determined rules override those.

I continue to stay heavily involved on Twitter because it's an excellent way to be in a professional community without sacrificing a lot of time.  I try to keep my blog updated, but it's not how I make my living so it goes to the back of the line when necessary. It is possible to function with depression. I still have bad times that may last for days. However, it's manageable. In fact, overall I haven't felt this good, ever.

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Tagged as: David Foster Wallace, Depression, Mental Health, Self Absorbed Clap Trap

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