Art and music as depression therapy.
Pretty much all of my adult life I've struggled with depression. On those occasions when I was compelled by those who cared for me, I sought medical help. Against my intuition and generally skeptical, I would go to the quack, get the inevitable script, take the new "wonder drug" and let myself be chemically crippled and constrained. My imagination would evaporate. My perception would narrow and become hazy. I would be an artificial "normal person" for a time. Six months here, a year there and I would wean free of the medication and begin the cycle all over again.
This is probably an acceptable solution for many who suffer from depression. And I can only say more power to them. Trouble is, for me, chemical solutions inherently lead to a struggle within my core self. I really would prefer to exist and find balance without chemical adjunct medication. It really does matter a great deal to me.
I believe we are wonderfully made and the solution to problems often lies outside simple modern chemistry.
There is of course ample evidence in ancient treatments and cures from many cultures to adequately support a reasonably rational argument for alternative medicine in many shapes and forms. But that is not what this story is about. This is a simple story about how I am learning to live with the black dog by exercising my own creative impulses.
Black Dog Blues:
Black dog on the prowl, don't show no fear.
Coz he all hunt by smell, fear smells all sticky sweet..
He'll get on your trail.
Black dog on the prowl, keep your powder dry.
Coz if your powder get wet, he gunna know for sure.
You can't fight him off.
Black dog on the prowl, you know he there.
Look him right in the eye, He'll tuck tail and cower.
Mongrel fool black dog.
Black dog on the prowl, don't feed him man.
Stop kicking dust with your boot... You gotta lift your chin.
This is probably an acceptable solution for many who suffer from depression. And I can only say more power to them. Trouble is, for me, chemical solutions inherently lead to a struggle within my core self. I really would prefer to exist and find balance without chemical adjunct medication. It really does matter a great deal to me.
I believe we are wonderfully made and the solution to problems often lies outside simple modern chemistry.
There is of course ample evidence in ancient treatments and cures from many cultures to adequately support a reasonably rational argument for alternative medicine in many shapes and forms. But that is not what this story is about. This is a simple story about how I am learning to live with the black dog by exercising my own creative impulses.
I am increasingly becoming a firm believer in the power of realizing creative energy. I find that the time spent in the creative process almost always releases me from my day to day worries. I seem to be immune to the black dog in a creative flurry. Of course there are time constraints and sleep requirements. Work has to be done. Business has to be run. Friends deserve love and attention. Family needs me. Other than that and incidental requirements I spend every free moment I have now painting, writing stories, lyrics, music, poems, playing the guitar, imagining new art. Creating.
The old black dog he's not so bright.
This one is a song I wrote on Sunday about the Mongrel.
Play it as 12 bar in B and just ad-lib the lyrics in a bit of a kiwi accent, it works...Black Dog Blues:
Black dog on the prowl, don't show no fear.
Coz he all hunt by smell, fear smells all sticky sweet..
He'll get on your trail.
Black dog on the prowl, keep your powder dry.
Coz if your powder get wet, he gunna know for sure.
You can't fight him off.
Black dog on the prowl, you know he there.
Look him right in the eye, He'll tuck tail and cower.
Mongrel fool black dog.
Black dog on the prowl, don't feed him man.
Stop kicking dust with your boot... You gotta lift your chin.
Don't let Black dog in...
Chris Rea - Black Dog. Listen to the lyrics carefully, this really was a serendipitous discovery which came just in time for this story.
