Self-awareness can help us maintain wellness

The following article was first published in the zine Esperanza, 2010.

 Fighting for self-awareness

By Bruce Clark

It may be a little theatrical to claim that being diagnosed with depression in my early 30s was my road to Damascus, but it was the instigating incident that led me to talk therapy. That therapy gave me a newfound self-awareness that has been an invaluable asset in managing my well-being.

The catalyst for depressive episodes can vary, but it's generally accepted that the stress associated with major life changes can coax the sleeping black dog from his cozy den.

My depression manifested itself after my wife and I moved to Palm Springs, California, from the prairie city of Winnipeg, Manitoba, in 1993. It seems ridiculous to think that moving from a city with the same weather patterns as Siberia to a verdant desert oasis could bring on any negative psychological indications, but the stress of leaving family and friends while venturing into uncharted career territory likely had a great deal to do with it.

I began experiencing typical symptoms; sleeplessness, fatigue, irritability. I was unable to concentrate on my work, and the things that normally gave me pleasure began to seem pointless.

I became frustrated easily and I could feel the anger I had caged up deep inside escaping from the metaphoric bars now weakened by the depression. Growing up in a working-class neighborhood where fighting and aggression were part of the landscape had equipped me with a quick temper and a potential for violence that began to flare up.

I started snapping at my wife. Then, during a recreational hockey game, I went after an opposing player who was using his stick as a weapon. I broke my hand by repeatedly punching the steel cage that protected his face. I know that fist fighting, even during a hockey game, is shameful and ridiculous for a so-called mature adult, but I was out of control. At the time, you couldn't have pulled me off the guy with a team of Clydesdales.

My anger was getting the best of me and I knew I needed help.

With the gentle encouragement of my wife, I found an excellent psychiatrist and began weekly psychotherapy sessions. The formal talk therapy forced me to take more than a passing glance at my life. In answering the doctor's seemingly simple questions about my wife, my parents, and where and how I grew up, I began to realize why I made certain choices and began to understand the mechanics of my behavior.

My doctor prescribed an antidepressant and a stimulant, a combination that gives me a feeling of well-being that had been persona non grata in my life for far too long.

The medication enabled me to get back to work and mitigated my anxieties, but it was psychotherapy that gave me much-needed insight into my own personality, warts and all.

My temper and my anger issues were learned behaviors. My father was a caring, community-oriented man who abhorred injustice and sometimes took the law into his own hands. When I was 11 or 12, a menacing neighborhood dog bit two of my friends. Incensed, my father had me lead him to the house where the dog lived. He confronted the dog's uncaring owner and threatened him physically while I stood beside him.

I was laughing as I recalled the story for my psychiatrist, who didn't crack a smile and said seriously, "You must have been very frightened."

I'd never admitted it to myself but it was, in fact, terrifying to see my father in this potentially violent situation. I defended my father's actions as honorable and said that I thought my dad was doing the right thing by protecting the neighborhood.

When my doctor told me the plot was familiar, it took me a while to understand he was referring to my hockey fight. It became clear that the opposing player hacking away at my teammates was the dog's owner and I was my father.

That realization and many other nuggets of self-discovery have empowered me. Knowing more about what drives me gives me more control over my actions, which in the past were governed by emotions instead of common sense and reason. Being in control is good for my self-esteem and, in turn, good for my psychological well-being.

Depression isn't a prerequisite for introspection, but it did lead me to the psychotherapy that has given me a greater understanding of myself. And I can honestly say, I haven't punched anyone since.

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Bruce Clark, a writer and standup comedian, is lucky enough to split his time between Winnipeg, Manitoba and Palm Springs, California.