When the black dog creeps

Today in the Newcastle Herald my colleague and friend Jeff Corbett writes about his first sight of the black dog. http://www.theherald.com.au/blogs/jeff-corbett/a-sobering-experience/2602429.aspx
Says Corbett: "While I am depressed occasionally, I don’t suffer from depression. I might have a mild despondency about my particular circumstances for a day or so but it is always a temporary dip." He writes of two friends who suffer from depression, and one of them is me. "I asked one of those friends how she felt when she was in the grip of depression ... and she talked of non-stop tears, desperation, hopelessness and self-loathing, as she put it, all the fun stuff!" Now's he's had a glimpse of that dark place.
But, fortunately, I am not in that dark place, and have not been for some years. Now, I can spot the warning signs and act in time. For me, the first warning is the sense of being overwhelmed (with daily deadlines, that's a worry) of not being able to remember the detail I need to: what date is that story running, when is the orthodontist's appointment, what time is hockey, what will we have for dinner. These are things that go around in every busy mother's brain, but when the dog comes a creeping, there's acceleration and anxiety. There's just not enough space. Eventually, if unacted upon, the brain can't cope with all the data it has to process and shuts down.
Now, when I first feel that acceleration, that anxiety, I am kinder to myself. I put into practice all the skills in my arsenal, gleaned from books, friends, family, counsellors and from within, to head it off.
I'm kind to myself. I forgive myself my failings. I cut myself some slack. I delegate. I say no. I rest. I eat well. I definitely don't drink alcohol. I sleep. I meditate. I remember to breathe. I treat myself. And my newest and most important skill: I practice gratitude, and random acts of kindness. I smile at strangers. I praise the kindness of others. I phone a friend. I visit people I neglect. I demonstrably love my children, and hold them close. I write down what I am grateful for (mostly my sister Chrissy who taught me this skill, but often just the sunshine). And, as I said to Corbett yesterday, the love comes right back at you. The sunshine warms your face, and the friends and family and strangers warm your soul. The children snuggle close and all is good with the world.