Malinda Lo
Blog
Oct 20, 2010
Hope is a gay unicorn
Today is Spirit Day, a grassroots effort to honor the teenagers who have taken their own lives recently in reaction to anti-gay bullying. As GLAAD says, “it’s also a way to show the hundreds of thousands of LGBT youth who face the same pressures and bullying, that there is a vast community of people who support them.”
I’ve been thinking a lot about anti-gay bullying lately, as have many people in the wake of the tragic suicides that have taken place this fall. I made an It Gets Better video with Amy to share our coming-out stories (and it does get better!), but because I was never bullied in school, I’ve felt a little lost as to what more I could do.
I’ve also read some of the critical commentary about Dan Savage’s It Gets Better project, claiming that the videos are unhelpful because they don’t address diversity or actually make anything better right away. When I first watched some of the early It Gets Better videos, I admit I did think, “Wow, that’s a lot of white gay men. That doesn’t speak to me at all as a woman or an Asian American.”
You know what? That’s partly why I made my video. Because I wanted to put the faces of two women into that video stream, and because I’m a person of color. I could help in that way.
As for actually making things better, I agree with Dan Savage, who responded to his critics by saying that the videos can “give despairing kids in impossible situations a little thing called hope.”
And that’s what I want to blog about today. Hope.
I was never physically bullied in middle school or high school. But I did have some terrible, manipulative, mean-girl friendships — though they obviously weren’t really my “friends” — with girls who chastised and belittled me into doing what they wanted. Looking back on it, I guess this is as close to bullying as you can get. The thing is, I didn’t realize that’s what was happening. I thought, well, I just have trouble making friends.
And I did. I was pretty socially awkward for a long time. I spent my most enjoyable hours alone in my room, writing fiction. Writing saved me. Not once, but many, many times.
I’ve been clinically depressed at least twice in my life. Thinking back, I realize now that I was probably clinically depressed in eighth grade, too, when I was going through the worst of those mean-girl relationships. The reason I can tell? I can’t remember giant swaths of time in eighth grade. I also can’t remember months of my sophomore year in college, when I was clinically depressed over coming out. In my memory, it’s like the year began, and then suddenly the year was over, interspersed with memories of a couple of walks through campus to see my therapist.
In eighth grade, I did not have the benefit of therapy. I had my journal, and I wrote a novel. In that novel, a girl leaves home and eventually triumphs over an army of demons. Symbolic much? (Also, a total rip-off of Robin McKinley’s The Blue Sword, but hey, budding writers have to start somewhere!)
In college, I did have therapy, but honestly, I remember barely any of it. I wrote reams of bad poetry, though. Reams and reams of it. It was almost like automatic writing. I would sit alone and write and write and write. And eventually, I came out of the dark into the sun.
My next bout of depression occurred in my late 20s, when I was struggling with coming out yet again. (That’s right: I had to come out to myself twice. Once did not do the trick.) Again, I wrote a lot. It was during this time that I began working on Ash, which is about a girl who climbs out of very deep grief and comes to love herself. Funny, that.
Anyone who has been depressed both knows what it feels like and probably would like nothing more than to forget. It is like being trapped with no way out, and simultaneously, you don’t even care that there’s no way out. It just is. When you’re in that position, hope is like a unicorn: It’s a fantasy at best.
I’m sure that people told me, when I was depressed, that things would get better. But I can’t remember them doing that. If I saw an It Gets Better video at the time of my deepest depression, I actually don’t think it would have made an impression on me. But that’s me, and if those videos can make a positive difference for someone else, they are totally worth it.
What helped me was learning how to live with my depression — how to manage it. My therapist(s) helped me to do this by listening to me with kindness, and by giving me actual techniques for surviving the day. Things like: Shut off your phone after 10 p.m. so that your sleep won’t be interrupted. Things like: It’s OK to treat yourself to something nice on a bad day.
These are things that seriously would never have occurred to me, because depression erases your ability to be rational.
People who have been depressed once are also more likely to become depressed again. So, after my second bout of depression, I took a meditation class focused on mindfulness and depression to learn how I could possibly prevent further depression. That class included a number of practical tips that have made all the difference in my life, and if you’re interested in introducing mindfulness into your life as a way to manage depression, I highly recommend checking out The Mindful Way Through Depression: Freeing Yourself from Chronic Unhappiness.
The point is, it is hard to get yourself out of the hole of depression. It’s a lot easier to sink into that hole and even build a little nest out of negative thoughts, wallowing in the pain and guilt so much that it begins to feel like it’s meant to be that way.
But it’s not. You’re meant to be living a life full of beauty and love, not despair and hate.
If you’re in that dark place, you need to seek out professional help. I also seriously recommend finding a therapist. There are many who will work on sliding scales if you don’t have health insurance, or if your insurance doesn’t cover mental healthcare, or if you’re simply broke. (I have been in all three situations while in therapy.) You can start here.
I’m not going to lie to you: It’s a long, hard climb out. It’s brutal. It requires a lot of work on your part, and sometimes it can seem like you’ll never, ever make it out. But I will tell you this: You can do it. I know you can, because I’ve done it, too.
Once you begin to take care of yourself, at some point along the path you are trudging — even if you feel like your feet are sinking into the mud and your body weighs a thousand tons — at some point I guarantee you will see that unicorn of hope in the distance. It might seem like a mirage at first, but it’s not. You can believe me, because I write fantasy novels. Hope, like that unicorn, is a tricky beast. It can sneak up on you. But it won’t do that unless you start looking for it.
And I swear, you don’t have to be a virgin. Or straight. In fact, I think most unicorns are gay.
Hope is a gay unicorn!
You can do it. I believe in you with all my heart.
I was talking to one of my coworkers this morning and she said she likes the idea of Spirit Day (she wore purple as an ally… I, however, as the bisexual woman in the office forgot and had to resort to wearing a rainbow ribbon pinned to my orange sweater *sigh*), but even though awareness is a great first step, there has to be something more. It can’t just stop there. What she was talking about to me sounded like education about what to do if you find out someone is suicidal or depressed or just feels alone. I think your post does touch on that. Thanks for sharing your story as well as your point of view on the issues more generally.
You’re such a star.
xo
loved this post. thanks for sharing, malinda!
This is beautiful. I want a shirt that says “Hope is a gay unicorn” on it
This was a very uplifting post in a lot of ways.
Thanks for your beautiful thoughts. It’s inspiring and touching.
Thank you so much for sharing this. It means a lot to me.
It was during this time that I began working on Ash, which is about a girl who climbs out of very deep grief and comes to love herself.
This was a way in which Ash rang very true to me … I read it as being very much about someone who is clinically depressed and, as happens, only finds her way out after a fair amount of time.
Thanks for the lovely post, Malinda
Your comment about having vast gaps in your memory really rang true for me, Malinda. The same is true for long stretches of my own life. In my case, it’s really hard to isolate why depression strikes. There were times when it was a reaction to awful things that had happened or were happening to me. There were also times when, objectively, I had nothing to feel sad about, and should have been at my happiest. Sometimes I think depression lies in wait in my brain, just waiting for the smallest excuse to surge out and take me over. The wrong comment from someone at the wrong time, a piece of sad music on a grey day…these are enough to tip me into that hole. But equally, tiny things have helped me to climb back out again, like a kind smile, a line of beautiful writing – or a message of hope. The hardest thing is to remember that you weren’t always this way, and that you won’t always be this way. That’s why blogs like yours, and campaigns like It Gets Better really can make a significant difference.
I blogged about bullying (from a more general perspective) here:
http://thezoe-trope.blogspot.com/2010/10/teenage-superhero.html And I hope it will be useful to others who suffered the way I did. I wish I had had someone, back then, to tell me: It Gets Better. Or even Hope Is A Gay Unicorn.
I think that awareness is very critical. So many times we are not aware of what’s going on, and we can’t fix the problem unless we’re aware of it. Thanks for your comment!
Thanks for your comment, Zoe! Depression is so hard to deal with, and I think it *does* lie in wait for those who are prone to it. So it’s great that you’re able to focus on the positive things to bring you back from the edge.
Hi Malinda,
your entry hits home for me. i remember being in middle school and high school where I was most likely clinically depressed (I’m 18 now and a freshman at college) I was in the closet and the bullying and the namecalling and harrasment and abuse from both boys and girls got to me every single day. It hurt me so much but for me it was also writing. I wrote and I wrote and I wrote. I had notebooks and notebooks of poems and short stories and unfinished novels. Anyway, what I’m saying is thanks for writing this. You are an excellent writer (as I’m sure you already know) and your book Ash is definitely a favorite of mine. I can’t wait until the Huntress. Also thanks for making your IGB video.
a bit late to the party, but thanks for taking the time and emotional energy to put this down. we all need to be reminded that there *is* such thing as a gay unicorn every now and then
Thank you for such a wonderful post. After you made that video, I feel there are lots of things I could relate to. I believe others feel the same way too. You are not just reaching american viewers but also international viewers esp in asian country where accessing such help can be very very limited. Hope and optimism are crucial when clinical help is impossible. I really appreaciate your effort.