I’m re-reading my friend Jessica Kantrowitz’s book The Long Night, Readings and Stories to Help You Through Depression. I loved it when it came out 4 years ago, but I read it back then as a non-depressed person. Reading it now from the center of the worst depression I’ve known, is an entirely different, even more meaningful than the first time kind of thing.
Jessica’s gift of putting words to what I’ve been going through is so powerful. If you’re familiar with her work, you know her catch phrase: You are not alone, and this will not last forever. I don’t always believe that, but I do feel less alone when I read this book. She writes simply but so poignantly about it. My brain takes a few minutes, sometimes lately, even several hours off from telling me I’m bad and broken, that I should be able to fix this by myself, that no one will stay if I show them who I am.
The Long Night makes me feel seen and known in this hard, hard place. As a person who spends almost all of her time alone, I can’t say enough about how helpful that’s been. The insights and love in this book are holy. It’s like Jessica is steadying the boat while I figure out how to stand back up.
There’s not one should or you must in this book. As her friend, I can honestly say I’ve never even heard those words come out of her mouth. She’s the least judgemental, most graceful human I know. It makes complete sense to me that she wrote the ultimate companion book for people with depression. It offers solace and hope without judgement. It’s given me an incredibly tender and loving space to acknowledge and begin to understand the fear and confusion I’ve been feeling. In the pages of this book have been my favorite place lately.
I didn’t set out this morning to write a Jessica Kantrowitz fan post, but here we are. Gratitude can be slippery when you’re depressed, and this morning as I read another chapter of The Long Night, I got ahold of some. Felt some deep appreciation for this book. Felt lucky to have it in my hand, and beyond lucky to be actual friends with the human who wrote it. The sweet being who took up residence in a painful part of her heart long enough to re-live one of the bleakest times of her life, and write it all down so others might not feel so lost and alone. I mean, really— what a gift. What an incredible demonstration of the infinite capacity of the human heart. Being friends with writers is literally the best.
The last 2-3 days I’ve felt some light get in. This book is part of it. Having shared what I’m going through is another part. I’ve been buoyed by the love that’s shown up. I’ve been so relieved by the love that stayed. (Thank you thank you to my soul friends and my incredible family.) I’m still working on letting it all in, but slowly slowly, I think maybe some of the new tools I’ve acquired are beginning to work. This morning feels less dark anyway, and I’m gonna take it. I’m gonna have this tiny celebration, goddammit. It’s Friday.
I haven’t shared much online. I’m writing, but everything comes out lopsided or upside down. Or I convince myself no one wants to hear it— everyone is already going through so much of their own shit. Or I’m fighting the messages I got growing up to stop feeling sorry for myself and catastophising. Depression sucks. It triggers fucking everything.
But here’s the deal right this minute— from this raw, unedited, real-but-not-necessarily true place I’m in:
I love my friend. I love the book she wrote. It feels good to celebrate who she is in my life, and in the world. I’m still in the woods, but there are clearings. She is one. The moon is full. I’m not alone. This won’t last forever.
I might be starting to believe it.
*NOTE: This isn’t intended as a sales post or a plug. It’s just what’s true for me, and I think it deserves a moment of celebration. That said, if you or someone you know is struggling, you can get Jessica’s book The Long Night here.
Follow her author page on Goodreads or Amazon to find the rest of her library.
Girl. I see you. Depression is the worst place I’ve been in my life and it still terrifies me that I could go back anytime. I’ve been out of the deep end for many years, but the threat sits in the backseat just so you know it’s always there. I hope you find little habits and hopes that help your day to day. And your writing is amazing and needed by so many. Like me. I promise. Also thanks for the recommendation of this book. Going to get it.
Kate-❤️♥️❤️♥️