Courage and maturity

kw: book reviews, nonfiction, memoirs, celebrities, depression

Major depression isn't just one thing. A collection of influences that quiet, or stifle, or crush the soul will manifest one way for some and another way for others. Ginger Zee writes of being suddenly transported into a small, strange, dark room, frequently with scolding voices shrieking her worthlessness. This is depression with just enough delusion that it almost managed to finish her off on a couple of occasions.

The overarching purpose of Ginger Zee's memoir Natural Disaster: I Cover Them; I am One is to chronicle her gradual triumph over that dark room and to offer hope for others similarly afflicted. She is a little young for memoir-writing (about 35 when she was writing the book), but she had already packed an amazing mass of life experience into this half-a-lifetime.

I have to mention while I think of it: The dark room with its scolding voices worked its way into reality with a "boyfriend" named John, a serious abuser, who actually became the expression of that inner domain, keeping her effectively locked up while accusing, scolding, shrieking her worthlessness, and forcing her to reveal passwords to all her accounts, until she managed to find the strength to flee and call 911 for help. In the book it isn't clear if she made this connection.

Ginger Zuidgeest grew up in a chaotic family and came to epitomize the need for chaos in her life to feel "normal". She wasn't abused as a child, nor neglected, but life had its way of providing a whole lot more twists and turns for her than is the usual fare. Her mother was capable of the most amazing conniption fits. I suppose that gave her just enough thick skin to answer brightly and even compassionately the trolls who complained to her via Twitter or email once she became a TV personality. Along the way the trickiness of her hyper-Dutch name was troubling enough to colleagues who had to say in on the air that they soon began calling her "Ginger Z.", and then a friend suggested she simply use the stage name Zee. It was a great idea.

She chronicles the story of her climb to becoming ABC's Chief Meteorologist, but there's little use in my re-hashing it for you. She was driven. So driven that my armchair psychologist hat practically forced itself onto my head, to declare from time to time, "Ms Zee, you aren't just the occasional depressive, you are bipolar ("manic depressive"), someone who is lucky enough that you spend a lot more time with that manic energy than in the dark room." She has, for years, endured a work schedule that would exhaust nearly anyone. She thrives on it. She even managed to wangle a series of assignments that included very high-flying paragliding, swimming in Jellyfish Lake in Palau (where she discovered she was pregnant), and a descent into the amazing Hang Son Doong cave in Vietnam (while pregnant).

Her "escape" from becoming overwhelmed by depression swings around two foci. The first is fleeing from John, the second is checking herself into a mental hospital for a week of special therapy, ten days prior to starting to work for ABC. Her description of that week shows the value of finding a truly competent therapist. In my experience there are many more who are at best marginally competent, and I wonder if my experience is ordinary or not, that more than half belong "in the bottom of the barrel." Actually, I had only one truly good psychiatrist since being diagnosed as bipolar, fortunately, at a less extreme level than most. Dr. Wilson proved to be a supremely good therapist for her, and helped her develop the tools she needed to become the person she needed to be.

Ginger Zee makes it clear that not all who experience depression will experience it "her way", but that no matter how it manifests itself, it can be overcome, and the first step is usually being willing to hold up a hand to say, "You know, I am really NOT OK." She states something we all need to keep in mind: we all have someone, usually several someones, who love us enough to be willing to help, even if it costs them time and energy.

She ends the book with a hint that the coming years may not be any less chaotic, but they will have a clearer focus, her husband Ben and their little son. She is experiencing a core of stability she feared she would never reach. Good on ya, girl!