This is not something I generally write about. You know why? Because I’m generally depressed and not recovering from depression. My bipolar disorder is characterized by depression punctuated with mixed moods. And this characterization has been true for years. Years and years of attempts at getting better. Years and years of failing to get better. It’s fucking tragic. It’s days of suffering interspersed with nights of insomnia. It is decidedly not recommended. But the thing about all that is that I’m uniquely positioned to notice every minute detail of what recovering from depression feels like. If everything is black and grey for prolonged periods, you sure the heck notice even the tiniest semblance of light. And while we’re all different, here is what it feels like to recover from depression for me.

What Does Depression Feel Like?

In 1776, Dr. Samuel Johnson, creator of the English Dictionary, first used the term “black dog” to describe melancholy and depression. It is thought he suffered from major depressive disorder. It’s apt to think of being followed around constantly by a gargantuan, terrifying, deadly, inky-black being when you’re depressed. Depression feels like a life-rending force you can’t escape no matter what you do. But that’s just the start of depression.

Depression varies from person to person, but the clinical definition includes (according to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition [DSM-5]):

(You must have at least five of the above symptoms present during the same two-week period, and at least one of the symptoms must be diminished interest/pleasure or depressed mood to meet the criteria for major depression. There are a few other caveats you can see here.)

But more than all of that, depression is about always seeing and feeling the negative and an inability to see and feel the positive. It’s about every little stimulus — good or bad — making you feel more worse. It’s about missed opportunities, isolation, faking wellness, psych ward stays, a lack of understanding from others, repeated medication trials, and not living up to what and who you know you are. Depression is about endless suffering.

Depression feels like the destruction of your soul.

What Depression Recovery Feels Like

The first unique thing I felt was a shift in my brain. I know that sounds weird. But my brain was 100% depression before, and then I found that a tiny percentage was something else. The depression still took up the bulk of the space, but I was aware that something else was in there too. It was hard to get a handle on what the “else” actually was.

Depression recovery is a slow process, but you can notice it through tiny little glimpses or something other than suffering. The lack of suffering — not happiness — was the next thing that became apparent to me. It was really weird. I found that everyday experiences hurt less. For example, I’ve said before that seeing happy people actually makes me feel worse. A loving couple holding hands could make me cry. Well, suddenly, seeing happy people didn’t make me feel bad. I didn’t feel much about it at all. This was huge progress. (You can’t imagine how horrible one feels when seeing happy people makes you feel sad. It makes you feel like an alien, among other things.)

Next, I started to feel myself genuinely smile. I’ve written before about how fake smiles are a bipolar coping skill. Being able to replace an expression painted on my face with an authentic smile sometimes was a relief that you can’t imagine. Seeing something and it invoking a real honest-to-goodness smile felt like heaven. A real smile didn’t always appear, but little by little, appear it did.

Alongside this, I noticed my breath. It felt like breathing was easier. Every intake of breath was less labored. Not forcing myself to breathe against my will was a relaxation and relief I didn’t know I needed.

(You’ll note that happiness hasn’t made an appearance yet. Feeling depression recovery doesn’t require this. There are many parts of depression that don’t include being able to feel happiness.)

I also noticed that food tasted better. When you can’t feel pleasure, everything — even food — exists in a grey netherworld. Depression recovery feels like adding flavoring to everything. Unfortunately, this is making me want to eat more, but I’ll take that, given I can actually enjoy it while doing it.

It’s now that my actual emotions started to feel more positive. I would characterize it as calm comfort. I would characterize it as a greater balance. I would characterize it as being human. It’s like the black dog had gotten much, much smaller. He started to look kind of cute, actually.

I think, at some point, happiness will make itself known. It’s not here yet, but it feels possible that it will get here.

The Caveat in Depression Recovery

I would like to mention that my depression is not gone now. There are still many lingering symptoms of depression in my everyday. That said, the part of my brain that my depression occupies is much, much smaller now. Maybe it’s even at 50%.

That is a miracle.

Feeling Depression Recovery

As I said, I’ve been experiencing the horrendous state of depression for a very long time. Depression recovery feels very weird to me. It feels wrong. Depression, I can predict. I know what it’s going to do to my day. Depression recovery, I cannot. The feelings of depression recovery are unexpected, to say the least. Every time a new un-depressed experience comes up, it’s a surprise. It’s like discovering myself again. I want to sit and enjoy it. Just watch what my brain does next. I want to be still and just gaze at the miracle.

I Feel Fear with Depression Recovery

Here’s the thing about recovering from depression, especially after an extremely prolonged period of suffering, there is a fear that it will go away. After all, my brain isn’t used to this. What if it reverts back? What if the medication stops working? What if I develop a tolerance? Pain is soul-crushing, yes, but seeing the light of wellness and having it taken away from you is even worse. I feel desperate not to do anything “wrong” and disturb the miracle.

The Fear Around Depression Recovery When You Have Bipolar Disorder

And, actually, having bipolar disorder makes the fear when recovering from depression even worse. That’s because those of us who have been doing this for a long time know: wellness isn’t wellness when it just leads to a hypomania, mixed mood, or worse. When I feel something positive, I’m terrified that what I’m really feeling is the beginning of a bipolar mood episode and not wellness. Finding this out would be extremely painful. It’s the kind of pain that leads people to suicide.

I Feel Like My Depression Is Getting Better — I’m Going to Enjoy It

But, while I acknowledge the fear and know that it’s real, I’m going to try to set it aside and just enjoy the lack of suffering for a while. I am a person who analyzes her mood every single day as a coping mechanism. It has kept me alive, granted me insight, and allowed for a career. But I plan on taking mini breaks from that. I’m not going to forgo it altogether — I think that would be a mistake as it could lead to me missing the signs of a developing mood episode. However, I think giving my brain mini breaks from the unending work it has done for years is the right thing to do. Holy moly, has it earned it.

And I’m going to mindfully experience the positives of my recovery from depression. Instead of trying to ignore all my feelings due to pain, I’m actually going to look at them, acknowledge them, and notice how they aren’t causing suffering. I’m going to taste the difference in food. I’m going to see the difference in the sunrise. I’m going to hear the difference in music. I’m just going to be still and appreciate how I don’t have to run from the black dog while I’m doing it.

What Does Recovering from Depression Feel Like for You?

Do you identify with any of what I’m saying? What does recovering from depression feel like for you? What do you notice first?