Francisco’s Journal

“Be kind to yourself.” Cheryl Klein, my editor, said to me recently as we discussed my revisions to a manuscript. Her words made me think about what it means to be kind to oneself in the process of writing and re-writing a book. To be kind to myself meant that in evaluating the work, I needed to take into account the circumstances during which it was created. I struggled with depression as I wrote and re-wrote the work. This meant that there was no way I could have an objective view of the work’s quality. I worked through most of it as if wrapped in cellophane - unable to “feel” whether the work was any good. Then, when I was done, I was overcome with a sense that I had not gotten it right, that I had missed the mark. I submitted the work to Cheryl anyway and it was like any other writing. Parts of it were perfect and parts of it needed more work. How I “felt” about the work was not important. I needed to be kind to myself. St. Theresa of Avila said about prayer: “When the wind blows we put up our sail and when it doesn’t we row.” Here was a work where it felt as if I had rowed most of the way. And there were so many days when it felt as if the boat could not move or even went in the wrong direction. To be kind to myself meant that I needed to accept those days and even to be grateful for the little rowing that I did. It was good just to stay afloat. Now that the work is almost done, the process almost complete, now more than ever I need to be kind to myself. I am grateful for others who can help me determine whether a work is ready for publication. I am grateful for the energy, the words, the insights and images that came, no matter how slowly. For the daily faith that kept me going. To be grateful for our offering, no matter how small, is to be kind to oneself.

Is it okay if I call you friend? I’ve known you for so long and it is time for you to be a friend. You are with me always. Sometimes you sit in the living room of my house, powerful in your presence. At other times you are like a guest taking a nap in an upstairs bedroom. I used to fight you or plead with you to leave, but I don’t do that anymore. I let you be. I’ve discovered the gifts you bring with friendship. I am grateful for the clarity you allow, for whatever energy you permit, for writing, above all for that, for the daily work of living. Who would have ever thought that we would end up being friends, that even as I do all I can to keep you gentle, I could welcome you? I accept you and limit you all at once. Come on in, there’s a rocking chair for you by the fire, but it is still my house. Now that you’re a friend, I don’t know what to call you. Your medical name sounds too formal and distant. You are more than a condition. You’re not me and yet you are a part of me. The metaphors used to describe you seem too impersonal. Darkness, grayness, the words lack accuracy. You are painfully bright at times. To call you by your symptoms is to treat you like an enemy and I don’t want to do that anymore. I’ll simply call you my old friend. I call you my old friend because I know you, I’ve seen through you. I’ve even seen compassion and hope in you. These are the things that only friends can see. I know you now, so well, and so I call you my old friend.

I want to write about these mental illnesses here because I am aware that many young people suffer from these and I don’t want them to feel ashamed or embarrassed about them. I would also urge adults to respect the power of the illness in young people. By “respect the power of the illnesses”, I mean, take them seriously. Don’t try to joke them away or ignore them. With depression and bipolar disorder you need the right balance of compassion and encouragement. You need to accept the illness and you need to fight it. You need to learn to live with it and you need to do what you can to get out of it. I have bipolar disorder now and have had it or depression since I was fourteen. I write this now because more young people are reading this journal and some of them have depression or bipolar disorder and I want to tell them that with treatment you can survive these illnesses and be happy. And its okay to be happy. I don’t ever want a young person to think that being depressed or bipolar comes with the territory of being a writer. You must not romanticize these illnesses anymore than you would romanticize, say, diabetes. Having these illnesses will not make you a better writer or a more sensitive human being. The fact that many writers have depression or bipolar disorder and the fact that many kill themselves does not make them special in any way. It is harder to live with depression or bipolar disorder than it is to kill yourself. Trust me on that one. If you are depressed or manic, know that this is not a good state to be. Hold on. Seek help. If you know someone who is sick, be there in the way he or she wants you to be there at this particular time even if its not the way you would prefer to be there. But you may have to insert yourself into his or her life in unwanted ways if need be. There are many, many places where you can go to get advice about symptoms etcetera. This is not one of them. All I want to do is say, if you somehow ended up here because you like to write and you also suffer from depression or bipolar disorder, then please seek help and get help as I have done and am doing. You can still write and write well when your illness is controlled by proper treatment.