Looking back, I could sense that I was slipping into an abyss as soon as I was abruptly unable to run as I had been, from more than 20 miles per week to none. By the fifth month, it was really bad. I first realized something was really wrong when I started crying at odd times during the day. I found myself retreating to hide in a bathroom stall at work to cry. At first it happened once a day, then at least twice a day…and it felt like, if I wanted to, I could go on crying forever. It didn’t feel like it used to when I’d cry– like I could release all of the sorrow inside of me and then stop. Instead, during this period the sorrow never left me. I felt different degrees of sad all of the time. It was like a veil of sadness I couldn’t get out from under.
When I started crying frequently, it didn’t take me long to realize it was not me. Prior to this time, any crying episodes I had were succinct and infrequent. Sometimes in my life I remember feeling like I didn’t cry enough, or I couldn’t cry. The only exceptions had been the death of a close family member, as well as that first postpartum-hell-ride-of-a-week following the birth of my sons, which was explained by exhaustion and hormones, and was offset by times of joy and wonder. I have been fortunate to not have experienced tragedy in my life.
Because I am fortunate, and I am aware of the misfortunes of others, my depression related to running loss was equally paired with guilt and fear. I feel guilt because this was not a tragic, permanent loss. I knew there was a high probability that I would eventually run again, and I realized that nobody really has to run. I felt fear because I figured that if I can’t handle the inability to run, I must not be able to handle anything. For example, during the months my depression was beginning, it happens that a dear friend in her second trimester of pregnancy underwent 3 brain surgeries to remove a tumor! Following the surgeries, it took her many months to relearn how to write and talk. Especially during that time, I felt that if I was unable to cope with the inability to run, I would never hold up under the legitimately tough circumstances that my friend was facing. Through therapy and some research I’ve done, I am now aware that there are changes in brain chemistry due to running loss that can cause depression. Even knowing that, running loss seems frivolous compared to something like a brain tumor.
My crying episodes were becoming more frequent, so I called to set up an appointment with a therapist. It was very difficult to make that call. It was hard to tell the attendant that I was calling because I felt depressed. I didn’t like having to answer questions over the phone to rank my level of depression, but what felt worse was to hear that I wouldn’t be able to get in to see a therapist for 1 month. That was horrible to hear because I knew I was stuck feeling deeply depressed with very little hope that there was a possibility of feeling better before receiving the help I was asking for. It is ironic that a call to get help for depression can make you feel depressed.
Runner, Interrupted 