It was the Best of Robes, It was the Worst of Robes.

I'm currently in a pretty serious love-hate relationship with my robe, you guys. This is both metaphor and reality.  To understand my complicated feelings, you first have to get to know my robe. That's it in the picture. (Hi, Robie!  Yes, I love it so much that I call it Robie, or My Robie, which led to the ultimate nerd joke of asking my husband, "Kenya fetch Mairobi?" Look up Nairobi, Kenya if you don't get that stooopid joke.) It's an L.L. Bean full-length fleece robe in Elderberry that I got about 5 years ago, and it ROCKS. It's warm and fleecy, and because it's got a tie, you can make it tight or loose. And it's purple, which is the color of my college sorority (go Gammas!), so it's got that nostalgic element going for it. It's just the most comforting garment that you can imagine; it feels like a big purple hug, and when it's cold out, it's all I want to put on. So it's easy to see why I love it. (if you have one yourself, you KNOW why I love it!)  Seriously, if you're in the market for a full-length robe, this is THE ONE, and they have it in several colors. Put it on your Christmas list now!!

Having extolled the many merits of Robie, you might be wondering what on earth could make me hate such a fabulous, hygge garment.  This needs some context as well...

If you don't know my story, a quick google search of my name will probably catch you up. (I'll wait while you go look up Stephanie Jass Jeopardy)  Back now? Whew, that was a lot, right? Wait, too lazy to google? I'll give you the bullet list: PhD Jeopardy superchampion gets fired from job AND arrested for cybercrimes. After a long, trying year, said superchamp pleads guilty to one charge, and is granted probation for a year in lieu of a sentence. At the end of her probation, all charges will be dropped from her record and she will never have been pronounced guilty. (Now tell the internet all about forgetting it. Good luck with that.)

Got it? Great. Now we're in the present, with the weather getting colder and the natural inclination to reach for my robe, which I do. Man, that feels good!  But it's 10am in Michigan, it's a Monday, and I'm just getting up. This may be the first day that it is cool enough to warrant my robe, but the truth is, I've been mentally wearing my robe for months, maybe even a year. I lost my job in April of 2017, and this is the second school year that my former colleagues are going back to school without me. I haven't had gainful employment since that time, and let's face it; I have a weird resume. (Why yes, I do have a PhD. Why did I leave a tenure-track job? Well, that's a good question. Why don't you just google me right here and now and tell me "thanks but no thanks." Ok, then.)  I'm really not even sure how to honestly answer the questions on applications when I haven't been officially convicted, but I do have a probation officer. (Frankly, it's weird to me that I actually have a probation officer, but here we are.) So I have spent the better part of the last year struggling. Struggling with my identity, struggling with my finances, struggling with my desire to have this behind me, struggling with my innate desire to be a happy, carefree person when ALL I REALLY WANT TO DO IS WEAR MY ROBE, SIT ON THE COUCH AND PLAY CANDY CRUSH. (And believe you me, I've done a lot of just that. I may not have a job, but I am at level 3606 in Candy Crush, so don't you tell me I haven't accomplished anything this year!!)

It took me until about April of 2018 to realize that my robe was a symptom of something more: depression. Of the clinical variety. Somewhat ironically, I was previously diagnosed with anxiety, partly caused by my previous job. And if you have anxiety, you know the questionnaire they have you fill out at the doctor, and you know that there's a flip side that has questions about depression. I used to score high on the anxiety side, but after I lost my job, that part went away. But I realized that I was now experiencing all the symptoms on the flip side.

If you've ever experienced clinical depression, you know that there's some relief in knowing that there's a reason for what you're feeling and you're not just a sack of shit who should just try harder to get her life back together. But it doesn't change the fact that you're actually suffering and that it's not just going to blow over in a week or two.

So now we're at the robe dilemma. I love my robe, but it has also become a symbol of my depression. I want to wrap myself up in its comforting warmth, but when I do, then it seems like I'm doing nothing but indulging my depressed feelings that I don't want to have. It's not your fault, Robie; you've done nothing but your job to swaddle me in fleecy comfort. And today may just have to be a day where I give myself permission to accept your warm gift and not feel guilty about it. Tomorrow may be a day where I feel more like myself, and I'll be happy to hang you back on the wall. Either way, I shouldn't blame you OR myself. The reality is that right now I'm depressed, but my doctor knows about it and we're pursuing treatment options. And one of those treatment options may be an occasional day spent with my beloved robe AND all you represent, and learn how to let both of those things exist together in peace.

If you're suffering from depression, please know that you're not alone, and you should talk about it with other people who understand. It's a challenge for folks outside to understand what you're going through (I was one of them, once upon a time!), and it's a lot for you to have to explain it to them. (I've shared the website adaa.org with my family and friends; it's a great resource!) My robe and I are here for you if you need to vent.