The new Knitty is up, and along with some lovely fall-inspired patterns, it includes my most recent column. I can’t really say much about it except that it’s a definite departure from what I’ve written there before. If you read it, it will provide some context for my last few entries here.
I’m not normally one to go on about how one piece of writing was easy and how another one was difficult–but this truly was one of the hardest things I’ve written for a whole host of reasons.
I don’t think I’ve said this here before, but I should now: I’m very grateful to all of you for your readership, your comments, your support (I know how trite this all sounds, but it’s true), and for being there even when you didn’t know how much I needed you. Thank you all. And a special hug to Amy. As they say, she’s been there, done that and got the t-shirt.
{ 48 comments… read them below or add one }
I just read your Knitty article. I don’t know what to say other than, I am glad that you are blogging again. You were missed. Please take care of yourself.
Thanks for writing the article for Knitty. So many people, including my husband and me, have been through similar things. I wish you continued stability and wellbeing.
Thanks so much for your column. I was really touched. Many wishes for your continued recovery.
Thank you for your column! I think it has both meaning and comfort and speaks to how the act of knitting isn’t always the solution, but there’s more to knitting than aaaactually knitting the stitches. And that is a helpful thing.
Thanks so much for sharing that. That must have been so, so hard.
I have as much peaches and cream as you can stomach as soon as you want it!
I just wanted to say thanks for writing your Knitty article. A couple of years ago something similar happened to me, and one of the only things I could do was dream about the dolls I would make when I felt better.
You are very brave to put that out there. Thank you for sharing your story.
Yep, been there this year too! And resuming knitting just a couple rows signified my emergence from that dark dark hole. Knitting didn’t send me there, or save me; just that the minute I felt like knitting, I knew I was getting better.
Your article in Knitty was beautiful. Thank you for sharing your experience with all of us Knitty readers. Setting things down in writing for all the world to see is very scary, but I hope therapeutic and liberating as well.
Just wanted to thank you for your Knitty article. I suffer from Panic Attack Anxiety Disorder myself. I can live with it now because of therapy and medication. I’m thankful for both. It all exploded in 1999 when I bought my dream–a yarn store. Too much good stress is just as bad as too much bad stress. (Try running a store while you’re crazy!) I thank my husband for his unfailing support. Couldn’t have recovered without him.
Just read the article in Knitty; well-said, and well-lived. Thank you for having the courage to share. I feel you and wish you continued positive plodding/pushing/prancing forward!
Thank you for writing that beautiful piece. It’s a hard thing to come to terms with and an even harder thing to share with others. You go on and on like you’re fine, and then suddenly, you’re not. Thanks again.
Thank you, David. You are not alone (although knowing that isn’t always helpful).
David, so pleased to hear you are feeling better. By the way, Pierre the Yarn Snob’s blogger is a woman.
Wow – I happen to be going through something similar and I’ve been knitting up a storm lately. I am glad to hear you are out in the light again, and its nice to read about other people who are going through or have gone through the same thing. Makes you feel less alone! Thanks for sharing.
Thank you for your knitty article–I know I’m just one more voice in the chorus here, but it struck a chord with me. I’ve struggled with depression and anxiety on and off for what feels like forever, and it helps a lot to know I’m not the only one. I’m glad you are doing better, and glad you had the courage to go so public with your story. Thanks.
Jeez, thanks everybody! This outpouring of support has been amazing. Clearly I should lose my mind more often
Speaking of which–Kerry, you’re absolutely right. I found out about Pierre’s true identity just today, when blogger Meg Sawyer wrote in to say that he was her dog! But there don’t seem to be any hard feelings. Just the same, I’ll drop a line to Amy and ask her to make the correction to ensure that future generations are not as confused as I am.
Oh, and Anonymous Teen Girl…you’re not just one more voice in the chorus, at least not to me.
I can’t express how happy I am to hear from each and every one of you.
I have no words of wisdom, nothing meaningful to add. I’ve never even looked at your blog before. I just finished reading your column at Knitty, and wanted to stop by. All I can say is that if you were here, or I were there, I’d give you a big, friendly hug. Just a hug. And then, if we felt like it, we could knit for a little while.
Oh Laura, that’s lovely–and sometimes that’s all that anyone wants or needs. Thanks for stopping by, and come back anytime!
David! You’re brave. Really. I mean, I know the internet has it’s yucky parts, but I think something amazing about it is how many people you can reach and how sharing important things can make others feel less alone in the world. I hope you’re feeling less alone, too.
I’ve also been where you were and I only wish I knew how to knit then.
xoxo karen
hey david,
i am so impressed with your courage! i have struggled with depression my entire life (all 37 years) and have been on meds for 10 years. the meds have mostly worked with a few bad spells and transitions, and then late last year i went off of them in preparation for getting pregnant. well, needless to say, that was a craptastic idea, and this year was marked by some of the worst depression i’ve ever experienced. i couldn’t knit at all! luckily, i found a new doc who helped me slowly and painfully get on a new, pregnancy-safer med and start to rebuild my life again. it’s been a slow process.
anyway, that’s a wee bit of my tale of 2007 woe. all this to say that i completely relate and find you so wonderful for writing your column on knitty. you have my deepest empathy and loyalty for putting your experience out there.
I, too, have been there, done that, and got the t-shirt, which was marginally better than getting the little paper slippers with the smiley faces…but I digress. I’m very glad you had the courage to write about your experiences, and by doing so, you’ve helped a lot of people to feel less at sea.
A big hug to you, and I’m glad you’re here.
Thank you for the Knitty article. I hope that the black dog does not visit you again (unless it is a real Labrador retriever. I have one. He got sprayed by a skunk on Thursday night. Would you like him? Oh–I digress.) Like Laura, I would come and knit with you if I could. Actually, Mississauga is not far from where you live. So that could be a possibility. For now, I am knitting with you in spirit, as I am making socks for my sister-in-law. Take care.
Dear David,
Thank you so much for your gutsy article. It was very helpful fo me to find out that there are others out there struggling. I wish you the best.
I came here from your article on knitty because I wanted to thank you for writing it. It seems I’ve already been beaten on that, but still, thank you! It’s articles like yours that helps others realize that we’re not alone. Thanks!
The Knitty piece was a brave one to write and I admire you for it. All good wishes, David, for a thorough continuing recovery.
Hey David, Thank you so much for your beautifully written article. My “full on meltdown” was two years ago now. I spent an entire winter sleeping most of the day. When I couldn’t knit, I hand wound balls from skeins for hours. The motion calmed me down, the colours soothed.
I weaned off my SSRI’s a few months ago. They are both a blessing and a curse at times, aren’t they?
See you at LK soon I hope. Big hug.
Good work, sir – both the article and your overcoming the attack of the black dog. I hope your knitting continues to help you along.
Hi David -
Thank you so much for the having the courage to share a little about what you’ve been through, and the determination to stick it out. Trust in yourself – we’re rootin’ for ya!
Big hugs and I wish you a full and speedy recovery.
I have about 1 foot by 6 foot of crocheted homespun (hook size P!) that not only started my way into the fiber arts, but helped me get through a mental breakdown and medication numbness when I was only 19.
I just wanted to thank you in your bravery for sharing what you did, and wish you the best of luck in your own recovery.
Oh David, I can’t imagine what you have been thru’.
Like all the above, I wish you continued recovery.
Take extra compliments from me, for finishing the stole & other objects this year. Admiration being sent your way.
FYI I am not proficient at lace, but can work F & F easily:)
take care
{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}
Thank you. That’s all. Just “Thank you.” It’s nice to remember I’m not alone.
Wow. David – what a brave and mind opening article you have written.
I have been ‘coping’ with depression on and off (the coping part anyways!) for about 5 years. During this time I experienced similar reactions to meds (without even realizing that was what was happening) and the drop off in energy to devote to everyday relationships and activities. I managed to maintain my job but really – that was all.
I am just now starting to climb back up to my usual level of socailization and recreational activities – but I still experience periods of time where everything, from answering the phone to getting dressed to going on vacation, feels like too much work. But the good days are starting to even out with the bad, and even eclipse them some months.
Knitting, knit blogs, compulsive yarn shopping, craft blogs etc. have played a big role in helping me remain connected and somewhat creative.
Thank you so much for your heartfelt article. I am sorry to hear there are so many other people experiencing depression like mine – but at the same time, it helps to not be alone.
Well done you. I’ve read your articles and lurked a bit on your blog for a while. Your article has finally prompted me to say how much I enjoy your writing. Carry on taming the black dog and I hope you feel really proud of yourself when you get to put those socks on.
David, add me to the chorus of thanks and admiration over your eye-opening article in Knitty. I had to stop by here and add my voice. I, too, suffer from depression. It runs in my family: my sister has it, my mother probably did, her mother may have, also, but, since Grandma was born in 1880, I’d bet few people knew the name. But, Grandma’s sister committed suicide. Who knows how far back it stretches. I call it the black devil. Depression is, to my mind, a species of hell.
I’m lucky. I have a supportive husband, I’m not suicidal (although my sister was, back in the 60s and 70s), and I have a great doctor, a neurologist whose subspecialty is psychopharmacology. I’ve been through the new meds, side effects, waiting for efficacy, add another med, wait, side effects, and on and on. When I was in the worst of that, I got so tired of just waiting for a result. And sometimes, I’ve been given a med for something else that triggered a full on but short lived attack. Inhaled steroids for asthma were the culprits. I felt like my skin was gone and even the myelin sheaths on my nerves were gone and *everything* went straight for my poor naked nerves. It took 2 – 3 weeks, but it passed. I’m reminded that the favorite passage in the Bible of a dear friend is “And it came to pass.” Meaning it didn’t come to stay.
Knitting and thinking about knitting can be a good barometer of our state of mind. One thing that has helped in the short term is contact with loved ones – the touch of my husband’s hands, one of my cats rubbing against me. Of course, they’re not fixes, but they help pull me out of the blackest holes for a time.
One thing I deeply regret is not accepting the help of medications sooner. That is, not for me, but for my daughter. She had 10-12 years of a mother who ran off the tracks from time to time, and, in the worst times, would be unreasonable and verbally – not abusive (I suffered from that as a child), but harsh and wound up in my suffering so much that I didn’t take care of her as well as I wish i had. She seems to be OK. Better than OK in a lot of ways, but the memory of some of the things I did and said bring me profound pain and regret, and guilt. Thank you to my Puritan ancestors. Intellectually, I know I did the best I could at the time, but ….
Thank you for your courage and tenacity in writing the Knitty article and thanks to Pierre the Yarn Snob’s blogger for starting the campaign. That pervasive Puritan mindset that helps define the “personality” of the entire US is one of the things that makes many people ashamed of a biochemical imbalance. They wouldn’t damn a diabetic for needing or taking insulin, but depression is a different story. We need to keep talking about it until the guilt and shame go away.
Thanks so much for your bravery – talking about mental health issues really helps to kill off the stigma. And less stigma means more people will get help.
You rock!
Thank you for writing that column. You are very very brave.
I am going through some “stuff” myself…and I cannot even tell you how timely your column was.
I just read your column in Knitty and wanted to let you know that you are not alone. Your column brought tears to my eyes because it so accurately captures what it feels like to struggle with depression and anxiety. Thank you so much for sharing.
David – Thank you for your bravery, insightfulness and willingness to share such an intimate glimpse into your life in the Knitty article. This touched me as no other knitting article has to date. Sometimes, for some of us, just sitting and holding a work in progress IS progress. Then a few stitches, a few rows knit, and when we’re stitching merrily along we realize that the fog has lifted, if just for a few minutes. May your fog have blown away and energy be rock steady!
Okay- you’re crazy! But I was, too, once (and maybe I still am!) At the time I went to pieces, I was very involved in photography, and while my mental breakdown led to a photographic breakdown (and I’ve long since left that world behind), I believe I did some of my best work in those days, and that the still-lifes I did are incredibly reflective of my own mindset at the time. No, there weren’t dark and scary pictures of moping, teary-eyed young women, but rather a collection of “found object” and other images that focus on a single, small, otherwise insignificant subject, barely coming into focus, and hinting at something else happening just out of frame. Although I’ve left that world behind, looking back at those photos reminds me that beauty- small, quiet, easilu-overlooked beauty- can still exist in a well of despair. Thanks for sharing your story!
Thank you. I read your article and kept thinking…’my god, he is describing me’––you penned it all so well. I suppose I am on the other side of severe clinical depression…at least today. Depression is a Snarky Bastard that loves to sneak up on me…but now I can honestly say I recognize and can battle that bastard! Again… Thank you. Thank you for reminding me––on a day when I so needed reminding––how far I have come.
Enjoy the journey
David,
Just to add my admiration and support to the large crowd of commenters. I also found your knitty article inspiring and hope that you find knitting a common denominator in your recovery from depression. Once you can keep the needles in your hands for a little while, it starts to do its magic.
Cheers, ;^)
Stacie
I have been on such a journey more than a few times in my life. It goes without saying that you have my compassion – but even more so – you have my gratefulness. You affirmed that the healing time, time spent observing the beauty, color and wisdom that is art, was time well spent.
You are a wonderful writer. Be well.
I’m sorry you’ve felt so bad. I can understand a bit what you’ve been going through. Take care.
I just googled Long Tail Cast On video as I couldn’t figure it out myself and came across your blog and video! Amazingly helpful but even bigger than that, your article on Knitty described the journey that I have been on in the past few months. It’s so encouraging to know that others have struggled with short attention spans and are suddenly dealing with things they never dealt with before.
Along with a break from work, medication and the help of an excellent psychologist, I now that there is a gift through this season… one of them being looking forward to another season where there is hope and more attention span and an ability to help others again. But more importantly, learning the things that are truly important and those things that I used to think were important but are not anymore.
Keep up the great work! You’re encouraging:-)
I don’t quite know how to tell you how fantastic your article is. Being honest about unpleasant things is so difficult, and I really admire you for what you have done. I hope that you will continue to share your experience when you’re ready – we all need positive role models like you!
David,
I read your article on Knitty after finding the site on a random search and wanted to thank you for writing this after finding the link to your blog. I’ve been dealing with my own struggle with anxiety/depression since April; therapy & an anti-depressant seem to be helping, but I still have those very gray days.
Knitting has been both my solace and my suffering. When things get bad, I pick up my needles and one of many UFOs that I have laying around and, as I knit, I can let everything seep out through my fingers with every stitch. But there are also many times where all I can do is just look at my needles and look at my knitting books, feeling the urge but not being able to. One special project in particular is suffering because of this. I can only hope I can complete it.
I am currently employed as a secretary in a mental health facility and I truly believe that it takes great courage and strength for any person to be open about dealing with depression, anxiety, and the like. After reading your story, I believe you have both in great quantities. Your experience has given me some hope that things will get better.
I wish you the best as you continue your journey and your knitting. Thank you for letting me know I’m not the only one.