Is Dating Too Triggering for People with Depression?

How can we protect our mental health in such an emotionally risky endeavor?

The wind is blowing fiercely outside my window. It’s dark even though there are three more hours until sunset. It’s been dark all day. Every now and then, sprinkles of rain hit the windowpane.

It’s been like this for a week and even though it’s June and everyone is eager for hot summer weather, I’ll happily take this cold gloom. It mirrors my inner world so perfectly.

Because it’s Friday — and a rainy Friday, at that — I’ve allowed myself some small graces today. I’m wearing a shirt that I already wore this week because I didn’t want to make the effort of getting a clean one out of my drawer. It’s plaid and I paired it with some flannel pajama bottoms that are covered with tiny llamas. I look like I got dressed in the dark, but I don’t care. I’m warm and comfortable.

Speaking of that, another grace I gave myself was to work in bed today. All day. Don’t get me wrong — I actually made the bed, believe it or not. I’m just sitting on top of it surrounded by blankets and pillows and my heating pad. No matter how unsavory the weather is outside, I’m quite cozy right here.

After my shower, I didn’t brush or style my hair. I didn’t put on makeup or jewelry. It’s a low bar today.

And best of all, I allowed myself to complete as many personal writing projects as I wanted. That seems to be what I’m craving right now.

I have to confess, it’s not just that it’s a rainy day. It’s not just that I’m having a challenging Friday.

I’ve been struggling very badly with my depression lately. Again.

This, in itself, isn’t unusual. I’ve dealt with depression since I was 12. It’s always there somewhere in the background of my life, often reaching forth and making frequent visits that can slow me down and make everyday life a struggle.

It’s harder when life events throw gas on this flame. Family and financial issues tend to have that effect.

Perhaps the worst of it, though, is dating, sex, and romance. Those create such a high in any human being, whether or not they struggle with their mental health. And when things go wrong — that high turns into a plummet. The rapid and extreme high-to-low shift can be devastating for people with depression.

It often makes me wonder if it’s possible for someone like me to have a love life.

I’ve been very proud of myself up until recently. The last year was exceptionally hard — for all of us — and instead of plodding through the aftermath of the pandemic, I took action and got myself back into therapy. This wasn’t easy for me. I had no idea what my new insurance covered or didn’t cover, and I was just low enough to feel like I didn’t have enough energy to go through the process of interviewing candidates and building a relationship with a new therapist.

Somehow, though, step by very slow step, I did it. And I started tackling some very difficult issues from my past, including the sexual trauma I experienced in middle school that I’d never talked about with a therapist before.

The rest of my life was already starting what seemed like an upward swing. I was getting back into the groove with my work. Clients were reinstating pre-pandemic budgets and offering me new opportunities. I started to get a better feel for some new things I wanted to try.

And…I fell in love.

It wasn’t that I was no longer dealing with mental health issues or that every day was a good day or depression was a thing of the past. I still struggled. Often, daily. But I was so proud of myself for the efforts I was making to take care of myself and open myself to new possibilities. I was that perfect blend of excited and terrified of the ways that I thought my life was about to change.

I woke up with a feeling of purpose, looking forward to the summer season. I had so many plans; I couldn’t wait to set them all into motion.

Dating is hard. Even at its best. How much should you choose to trust someone? How much can you meet your potential partner halfway without giving up too much of yourself?

And what if you give it everything you’ve got, take it all the way to the end zone, and somehow, it disintegrates in your grasp, leaving nothing but a gray dust that resembles ash?

All of a sudden, in one moment, the hopes you had for the future are gone. Just gone. The dreams of that summer romance disappear so completely, you wonder if you imagined the whole thing.

One of the hardest aspects of that volatile cocktail of depression and breakups is that it challenges an already challenged sense of self-worth. A lot of people with depression wrestle with feelings of self-loathing, suicidal ideation, and might even engage in self-harm. A breakup can throw you right into that pit.

I feel very fortunate that I ended up seeking out therapy long before any of this happened — and that I did so primarily for myself, to make sure I was taking care of my needs. I can’t imagine where I would be without that, in a mental and emotional space in which I would have had no energy to seek that out.

Having my therapist has helped me control my predilection to lean into suicidal thoughts and self-harm. Even just knowing she is there and rooting for me is enough for me to restrain myself. Sure, I often feel worthless. But I keep telling myself what she told me to recite: This is just an intrusive thought.

But I also feel frustrated that I started out in therapy seemingly so much higher on this mountaintop than I am now. How is it possible that I climbed so high, worked so hard, and then took one calculated risk that feels like it sent me right back down to Basecamp One?

That is a hard realization to face day after day.

Every day is hard. It feels like there is so little meaning in those words. But I mean: every day is hard.

In normal circumstances, I wake with the sun in the summertime and rush outside to get in my workout and gardening before the heat of the day sets in.

Now, nothing can wake me but my alarm clock. I don’t want to get out of bed. I often barely have the energy to get out of bed. I’m so tired and hungry that I’ll have to eat before my walk. And by the time I get out and get going, it’s frustratingly hot.

Once my apathy wears off, it shifts into anger. I feel overcome with rage — rage at the whole world — for most of the first half of the day. I hate everything. There’s maybe 25 people I can tolerate and the rest can just bugger off, as far as I’m concerned.

I don’t want to go anywhere. I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to see or even talk to most of my friends. Getting myself out the door for physical therapy or visits with my dad is fucking torturous. I almost long for the days of the pandemic, when I could’ve stayed in bed all day and no one would have noticed or cared.

Evening brings with it the hardest part of the day. I find myself overwhelmed with sorrow. All that anger and hatred at the world crumbles, leaving behind a sticky pool of grief.

It makes me so lonely, I can hardly bear it. That’s a time of desperate prayers, writing in my journal, crying, and curling up underneath a blanket.

How is it possible that such overwhelming joy and welcome companionship could turn into this?

How do people with depression date? I can’t stop asking myself this question.

Is it possible to sustain going from that kind of high to this kind of low? Is it possible to find a relationship that won’t leave me this low in the first place?

Thankfully, time always helps. I know as the weeks go by, I’ll start to feel better. Therapy and my friends will keep me afloat in the meantime.

But I’m scared of the future. At this point in my life, having had no break in these dating patterns, I can’t imagine that it will be any different. I can’t imagine that it won’t build up so beautifully and crash into the ground so painfully every damn time.

I’m not sure I have the strength for that.

Will it get easier? Less emotionally risky? Will I find better opportunities someday? Or will I have to learn to harden even more?

The only thing I know right now is that I’m so grateful for this rainy day, which gives me the chance to put off, at least for a little while longer, having to come up with any answers.

© Yael Wolfe 2021

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