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Witchcraft, Depression, and Mental Wellness

I was officially diagnosed with depression and generalised anxiety several years ago, following an accident, an injury, and then a job loss – all of which happened during a time of upheaval in my life anyway (Saturn return, staffing issues at work, my wedding, my brother moving in with us after the dissolution of his long term relationship, etc). I’ve always been (what I now refer to as) a sensitive soul: a combination of empathy & perfectionism meant that I always felt things very deeply, and while I found it easy to be compassionate towards others, the standards I set for myself were unrealistically demanding, causing me to be harshly judgmental of my own very human failings. At the time, I felt like my life had fallen apart, and I was so sad about it that I stopped being able to imagine a future where anything was different.

I was lucky, because when my family doctor acknowledged she knew nothing about mental health, she sent me to specialists who did. So, I treated my depression with medication (of various SSRI types and some anti-anxiety sleep help), Cognitive Behavioural Therapy techniques and sensory modulation, talk therapy with first an Acceptance & Commitment Therapy counsellor, then a psychotherapist, and now finally with a Narrative Therapy counsellor. I worked with a community support person to increase my exposure to the outside after my anxiety turned into agoraphobia. I began supplementing my diet with fish oil, magnesium, and high-dose Vitamin D. I had massages and Bowen Therapy. I joined groups to discuss breathing, mindfulness, CBT, and building up a “kind self” to balance out my inner critic.

And slowly, I remembered my ability to get out of bed, to cook and eat a meal, to sleep for more than an hour at a time.

Now I’m functioning at my new normal levels. The sadness is still there, and possibly it will take up space in my life forever. It’s like a scar that reminds me that I’ve walked hand-in-hand with Death. I expect that reminder to cause the sadness to rise periodically, but now I have the tools to deal with it.

One of those tools is my spiritual practice of Witchcraft. Mental health professionals will often talk about spirituality as one of the most effective ways to wellness – and I admit, I’m not sure whether it’s because they believe that spirituality will build resilience, or whether they’re just counting on community (i.e. one’s church) to help out. But one of the things I’ve always loved the most about pagan Witchcraft is that it’s not a passive path – we learn to use our Will to cause transformation! And I’ve come to see that that’s the only way through depression and anxiety – to put in the work, and make change happen.

Of course, that’s super hard to do when you’re feeling low. When you don’t have the energy to shower, just as an example, it’s hard to imagine finding the energy for magical work. So I have these reminders printed on a piece of paper stuck to the mirror in my bedroom:

  • Every little step counts, as long as you’re aiming in the right direction.
  • Practice makes perfect: the more work you put in, the sooner you will see the pay-off, which in turn makes it easier to do the work!
  • It’s a long way down into the valley of depression, even if you slide there pretty fast. Getting back up and out is a long way too, so don’t try to rush it. Make every step a stable one, and go easy on yourself.
  • How would you treat a loved one who was going through the same thing? Treat yourself with the kindness, patience and attention that you’d give them.
  • Anxiety tells us to pay attention to our environment. Depression tells us to pay attention to our selves. This is information that we need to survive. The goal is not to rid ourselves of worry or sadness, but to give them perspective and their own place amongst the rest of Life.

Quotes

“When you struggle with depression, it flavors your whole life, like iodine in your drinking water. You might get used to it, but you never really stop tasting it altogether. When I have strong feelings (or no feelings), I have to ask myself, “Is this me being reasonable or is this my anxiety/depression/PTSD talking?” I have to check all of my reactions before I have them. I am constantly second-guessing social cues that other people take for granted. I catch the tiniest details in inflection, posture, and phrasing because I have to supply myself with evidence that people really mean what they say, or explain their behaviors, however trivial, because I learned that people often don’t mean what they say and desire to hurt you (this was a survival mechanism developed after several years with an abusive partner). It takes me longer to decide how I feel in any given moment than it does for other people, because, for a variety of reasons, I can’t always articulate what’s going on inside of me very well. I don’t even always instinctively know when I’m hungry because hunger, sadness, anger, and fear often feel the same to me.”
Thorn Mooney

“. . . during the hardest points of depression just mustering the energy required to express emotion can be daunting. When just getting out of bed feels like it takes more energy than you’ve got in the tank, it’s hard to care enough to put on music (or fight laundry monsters).”
Alyxander Folmer

“When my depression was at its worst, I couldn’t acknowledge I had depression because that would mean I was ‘bad,’ ‘worthless,’ ‘hopeless.’ Admitting I had a problem — looking into that dark, shadowy mirror of my own fears — was the first big step. Getting help was more difficult as I have no health insurance, and I was alone without much income. I did manage to get some help via therapy at a cheap clinic, but even that cost too much. I was introduced to Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, though, and I realized that I had done personal work similar to that when I was doing leadership training at Diana’s Grove.”
Shauna Aura Knight

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