How Self Help Books Improved My Life while simultaneously sending Me Into a Spiral of Depression

Welcome.

My very first delve into the world of self helpery came in the form of Jen Sincero’s “You Are a Badass.” (It’s essentially my bible.) I was visiting Boulder, Colorado (one of my favorite places on earth) when I stumbled into a golden doored bookstore in the Pearl Street Mall district. Right off the bat, the obnoxious yellow cover caught my eye. I also saw the word “ass”...so, naturally, I was intrigued. “How to Stop Doubting Your Greatness and Start Living an Awesome Life”— Oh ok, I thought, that sounds nice. I’m definitely not winning any awards in the confidence department... I continued to eye the book with suspicion, turning it over in my hands, looking at the price, re reading the cover. Should I?

When I was visiting Boulder, I was in a state of absolute bliss (not because of the legal marijuana...). I was on vacation from a job I wasn’t super happy in, had road tripped there with my best friend in the entire world, I was in a part of the country I had been wanting to visit for years, and was racing a half Ironman in just a few short days- I was feelin’ good! So, I honestly felt like I didn’t need a book like that. At that exact moment I wasn’t in a state of despair or anxiety or even depression— which, sadly, is a state I’m quite familiar with...so it didn’t feel necessary. I was all happy-go-lucky, living my best life in Boulder. Vacation mode to the maximum. Why would I need a self help book? I was crushing it... 

I put the book back and continued to peruse the store. I meandered through the aisles for a while and eventually found myself back at the shelf where “You are a Badass” stared at me and whispered, “giiiirrrrlllll...you know you need this shit....get over yourself and buy meeee.” An eyebrow raised...a shoulder shrugged...and a “fuck it” whooshed through my brain as I obliged and tucked the book under my arm. 

I went back to perusing the massive book store, eyeballing each cover and salivating over the massive Harry Potter combo pack special edition that I definitely would have to sell a kidney to afford. I almost put YAABA (yeah, I’m shortening it...) back like 3 more times. My mind kept reminding me that money was tight and I was on vacation - spending lots of money…and where would I even put a book while I, ya know...walked around a town by myself? Am I supposed to carry it in my hands like some kind of animal?- Channeling my inner Tom Haverford here. I decided it was well worth it because I loooooove books and I loooooove reading and I can’t resist a well designed book cover to save my life...so YAABA was comin’ home to Georgia with me.

I drank that book in like it was an expensive and delicious glass of fancy pants red wine. I would read and read and feel my heart rate sky rocket as another paragraph inspired me to take control of my life and do the shit that made me happy. I took notes in the side lines. I bent the corners of pages I knew I would want to revisit. I highlighted the quotes that made me giddy. I was neck deep in self helpery and was frantically searching for a shovel to dig myself even deeper. With a crazy lady smile and a frenzied look in my eye, I’d repeat my positive affirmations and mantras in my head like it was my mother fucking job. I fucking loved it. That book absolutely changed my life. I left the job I was unhappy in, manifested the job of my dreams, hired an assistant to take care of my emails (I HATE EMAILS), bought a house with my love, and just started totally crushing it! Now this didn’t all happen at once. It took a lot of hard work, but I truly believe that book was the catalyst for most of these big awesome changes I was making in my life. I worked really really hard at changing my negative mindset- especially towards money. I fell in love with journaling and meditation. I was on some next level-high vibration-universal connection-floating on a cloud of bliss kind of shit. But...

Yeah...there’s a “but”...

But then things started turning sour. Life started to stagnate. I had grown addicted to the high of big changes and reaching new goals. I was feeling tired and overwhelmed by all of the things I had put on my own plate. I had goals on goals on goals on goals and couldn’t stop saying how I wished there were more hours in a day. Like I was saying that out loud to other people…all the time. I was working full time as a tattoo artist, training for my first full Ironman, starting a blog, starting a YouTube channel, wondering if I wanted to change careers and move towards something “bigger”, trying to make more money, trying to be a good partner to Jason and pet mom to the nuggets, trying to maintain a meditation/journaling/spiritual practice, trying to design a new Girl Power kit for charity, trying to maintain friendships and relationships, trying to spend time with family, trying to travel more, trying to figure out what my purpose is on this freakin’ planet for this one single chance at life that I get and holy shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitttttttt!!!!! *pulls hair out while screaming and running in circles in a bath robe* 

It’s like one day my huge pile of goals, aspirations, and desired manifestations had been stacked on top of each other for so long that they now weighed as much as an elephant. Then, somebody threw them all with one huge effort, onto the flimsy old table that was my brain. The table sagged, creaked, and wobbled...it looked like maybe it could handle the incredible weight...then it snapped in half like a freaking Kit Kat bar. 

I suddenly felt myself drowning in my goals. Drowning in all the things I wanted for myself. Losing sight of gratitude for where I was and only seeing where I wasn’t. My depression creeped in through the cracks and sunk it’s teeth into the weakness and feelings of lack. So much of what is “preached” in self help books involves keeping your mind positive, pushing out the negative and limiting thoughts and replacing them with uplifting and productive ones. Each day that my depression reigned supreme, I felt like a failure. Each time I tried to focus on the positive and couldn’t, I felt like a failure. Each time I meditated and only got more stressed out as my brain listed all the shit I needed to get done, I felt like a failure. Each goal I didn’t quite reach, I felt like a huge steaming pile ooofff faaaaiiillluuuure. 

My spiritual and self help journey had become something else I could suck at. Something else I could fail at. My depression saw a chance and dug its heals into my soul like, “Oooo damn, girl. It’s comfy in here. Mind if I crash for a while? Cool, I’ll put my things down over here. Don’t mind me.”

I was always so confused by the anti positive-affirmation-and-mantra side of self helpery. The ones who say trying to put a positive spin on everything isn’t a sustainable method for improving your life. I’m a positivity junky so I couldn’t wrap my mind around that idea. Not at all. But when I was struggling with the worst parts of my depression, positivity was as tangible as becoming best friends/pen pals with Oprah.

In Tara Brach’s “Radical Acceptance”, she has a chapter about the practice of yes. Her students would object this idea by saying, “Isn’t that just another shallow version of ‘positive thinking,’ a way to gloss over the reality of how hard life can be?” — * gasps and grabs chest * Oof. Girl, why you gotta hit me with that? Now I understood why positivity isn’t always the solution, especially for someone dealing with depression. By slapping a positive spin on it, you deny yourself the chance to accept the reality that some things are hard as fuck. And by accepting that, you are able to release it and truly move forward with purpose.

I don’t regret my head first dive into the world of self help books and attempts to connect with something much larger than myself. I don’t regret it for one single second, because a whole hell of a lot of good has come from that journey. I do believe, however, that it can be a slippery slope that many of us don’t acknowledge or accept. Making big ass changes in your life takes time and it takes patience, but most importantly it takes faith in yourself. Faith that even through the failures, you’re meant for something great and you just have to keep trudging on. BUT! The big BUUUTTT- you have to stay grateful for what you have RIGHT NOW. It’s a hard balance to find. I’m a perfect example of that, but it’s possible. It’s really really hard for some of us, though, so don’t lose hope or faith.

As someone who has struggled with depression for many years, I think I was especially vulnerable to the slippery down slope of self helpery. I can say that now because it’s like I’ve found myself standing on the peak of a mountain, looking down with a new perspective. Now I can see clear as day. I can see because the fog has cleared. I can see that I was letting my desires for the future cloud my present. 

After months(years) of deliberation, I finally reached out for help and spoke to an amazing doctor that I trust. We came to the conclusion that I would start my first round of antidepressants. And I have to say, it’s been the best decision I’ve made for my mental health pretty much EVER. 

I’ve been on Wellbutrin XL for a little over a month now and I am kicking myself for being so afraid of antidepressants and not starting them sooner. Like holy shit, I can’t stop looking at my precious boyfriend and shouting, “ANTIDEPRESSANTS ARE AMAZING!!! Everyone should be taking these bitches!!” (They’ve been amazing for me and I know that not everyone feels the same way or wants to go down that road. But for me, the antidepressant road is paved in shiny gold that sings Simon & Garfunkel tunes at you!!- which for some might be hell, but for me it’s heaven. SIMON & GARFUNKEL RULE.)

Ever since I started this medication, I’ve been able to look back at the last year and grasp some of what I was going through. I also had to come to terms with the fact that self help had kind of turned its back on me for a bit.

Having this new perspective and clarity has helped me realize that I don’t have to do everything on my plate all at once. I don’t have to give up on any of my goals, but I do have to prioritize and rationalize what I’m capable of and what is healthy for me- both physically and mentally. The things that I’m passionate about and do on the side: this blog, my YouTube channel, designing cycling kits, etc- can all wait. I don’t have a deadline for these things and no one is jumping down my throat to get them done. No one but me.  And, boy, let me tell ya…Me can be suuuch a bitch.* wink wink *

To conclude, I have slowed myself down as of late. I am focusing on the things that need to get done and lessening the pressure to constantly create and trying to relieve myself of productivity guilt. I’ve learned to give myself room to breathe and relax. I’ve learned that that is in fact, how I work best and how I am most productive. Being overwhelmed just sends you ten step backwards when all you wanted was one step forward.  I’ve learned to show myself compassion instead of jumping down my own throat.

I will absolutely continue my journey into the world of self helpery, because I adore it. I love the good vibes and that quickened heart rate I get from feeling truly inspired. I will also continue to learn what is the best route for me as I think we all should. No single method works perfectly for everyone. We have to try things on and spin around in the mirror to see if we feel good in it. I hope we can all find that well fitted method that sets our souls on fire and keeps us inspired and in love with life. We all deserve that. We ALL deserve that.

Love y’all.