Malaria of the Mind

Malaria: An infectious tropical disease characterized by prostration, high fevers, shaking chills, sweating and anemia, and may follow a relapsing course after the initial illness. From an Italian phrase literally meaning "bad air"; in earlier times it was believed that the disease was contracted by breathing foul air from a swamp or marsh.

Malaria of the Mind is my term for the short bouts of depression I sometimes get. As analogies go it's decent enough. I relapse now and then - usually when I'm feeling anxious and somebody says or does just the wrong thing. A single sentence can set it off if the conditions are right, then I go spirally down into depression and paranoia.

I'm hyperactive, so my mind is constantly searching for data to gnaw on. I do the Herald crossword puzzle everyday and have trouble falling asleep every night. When I become isolated (either physically, or socially) my mind, lacking alternative data, starts examining itself. And I start going over every ongoing problem in my life and every little injustice I've ever suffered. Eventually it consumes me. The mind becomes infected by dwelling on thoughts consisting entirely of "bad air".

This is one of the reasons why I don't go camping (lack of toilets/showers/soft beds are the others). Willingly putting myself into a situation where I'm isolated is just asking for trouble. In a city their are always things to do, even something as simple as going to a convenience store and buying a magazine to read.

I've found that isolating myself during these attacks is usually the best course of action. Normally, I endeavor to keep all the negative aspects of my personality locked away. The attacks bring all these negative aspects boiling to the surface and I'm as likely to lash out at my friends as to accept their help. At this late date, most of my friends are the sort of people who will take it in stride rather than give up on the friendship. Even so, it's still a pretty crappy thing to do to the people who care about you.

"Wait a minute", you're no doubt asking, "if isolation causes the problem, how can it also be the solution?" Well, it's not a solution per se - it's just an attempt to keep a bad situation from getting worse. Being depressed is bad enough. Being depressed and having all my friends pissed off at me would be far worse.

The hyperactivity that is the root cause of all this eventually comes to the rescue. Like a Charlie horse where the muscle cannot relax until it's exhausted itself, my mind will get tired of self-examination and it just browns out. I then get to spend a few days sitting in front of the television eating take out. The paranoia subsides and the depression becomes mild and I once again crave company (mostly so I can bitch and complain). I'm at that stage right now - and it's a vast improvement over Wednesday, when I was ready to pitch my computer off the balcony. This post is part of the bitching and moaning.

Running helps, it has a rhythm that soothes my mind. Did 9 Km today, and it was an hour when I was blissfully free of negative thoughts. Afterwards, the simple fact that I ran 9 Km was enough of an accomplishment to lift my spirits. Had I known twenty years ago that this was a side benefit of running, I'd be a marathoner by now.

Does a permanent solution exist? I doubt it. Frankly the depression is just a symptom of real honest-to-god problems in my life that can't be resolved. At best I can cope with them and hope the malaria of the mind stays in remission for as long as possible.