Beyond Blue

This is a very good song. You should listen to the whole thing.

These specific spoken words, though, are what sparked this thought process.

And every day, you are picking a pigment
To place on the canvas life paints
So why choose grey?

I spent perhaps 27 years of my life depressed. The term is dysthymia, a long-lasting, lighter depression. It can last years. Or decades. And during that time I had dysthymia, this sentiment was echoed by people who cared about me. My brother, telling me my family was worried about me because I was sad or depressed all the time. And like… I get it. You want the people you care about to be happy.

Here’s the thing, though. I didn’t choose grey.

I can truly, honestly say that for certain now.

Why? Because I’m finally free of my depression. And being free, I can look back over my behavior and my choices and see, truly, that I tried so very hard not to choose grey. And… it mostly didn’t work.

It not working? That wasn’t my fault.

You see, what cleared up my depression was not the latest psychotherapy techniques, or a new philosophy, or some kind of changed mental process. It wasn’t drugs, pharmaceutical or recreational. I didn’t have some epiphany like in the movies. I didn’t vow to be different and, through force of will, make that a reality.

I tried that last one after my brother guilt-tripped me, actually. I tried to look on the bright side of things and be happier. It barely worked for a week. Then I ran out of energy, slipped, and went right back to neutral-to-slightly-depressed, where I’d lived before. Back to the land of everything just kind of sucking all the time.

No. Instead, my life crashed and burned, and by happenstance, or God’s urging, or whatever you please… I stopped eating dairy.

Actually I stopped eating pretty much everything but grapes. Which is a stellar way to break yourself of a sugar addiction, fyi. It was a hellish couple weeks and I had no energy, but grapes still vaguely tasted good and they were cheap, so that’s what I ate.

When I came back to myself after the shock, I realized what had happened, and decided to run with it. And slowly, I realized I was different without dairy and processed sugar in my food.

I was still deeply pained and sad, but… things began to change. I could smile at small things. I was gentler, kinder. You’d think, with the sheer amount of pain I was in, I would have been meaner and more withdrawn. But that wasn’t how it was. I was able to be kinder to others, and to myself.

In short, my depression was not chosen. It was biological. The result of a fragile biology tossed into the profoundly unhealthy US food industry.

Since making my first in person friends in high school, I’ve always tried not to choose grey. But all I could truly manage was to choose blue. One color, and the faded, muted, even washed out colors of a wan rainbow I could only grasp hopelessly at. Wishing for more. Believing there was more. Unable to reach it. But I never chose to be that way.

I love blue. All kinds of blue. It was who I was for decades. And in some ways, who I still am. It’s the best color. It’s what my hair has been for years. It’s what many of my possessions are.

But my life is no longer just shades of blue and grey. Slowly over the last miserable, horrible, stressful year, colors trickled in. And then recently, with the advent of a new friend, a blindingly bright rainbow flashed before my eyes. The same friend who gave me this song.

I am free to live in the rainbow once again.