Sisyphus, Depression, and Life as an Indie Author

by Sharon Kayne

I’ve heard this phrase several times: that the only difference between writers who “make it” and those who don’t isn’t talent; it’s persistence. The first time I heard it I thought, “Well, shit. I’m screwed.”

It’s not that I can’t be persistent. I don’t often procrastinate and I’m a hard worker (just ask my former bosses). But persistence at work is different than persistence as a novelist. The big difference is that, as a novelist, everything’s personal. The rejections. The ugly, ignorant comments. Being ignored. And, not shockingly, it’s harder to take when it’s personal. Harder to recover from. To pick up and try again.  

Being an indie author is, I’m convinced, the most difficult way to try and “make it” as a writer. As an indie author, you are Sisyphus—being punished by having to push that damned rock forever up the hill but never reaching the top where you can rest. Forever promoting your book. Forever trying to get enough reviews to catch the Amazon algorithm so your book will actually show up in search results. Forever adjusting your ads (and let me tell you—you need a freaking advanced degree to even understand Amazon’s ad dashboard).

All of the rejection and being ignored would be hard enough for anyone—even someone who has healthy brain chemistry. But for those of us whose brains have a problem dealing with serotonin, it’s all the more difficult. When you’re pulled into a deep well of hopelessness every few weeks—a dark well where all you can see is that it’s time to give up because there is no hope—it kinda takes the wind out of your sails, ya know?

I thought my new antidepressants were actually working. Then last week I fell into the deepest, longest depression I’ve had in months. Maybe even years. I tried writing a blog. I failed. I couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel, because in depression there is no fucking light. If you’ve also suffered from chronic depression, you know just what I mean. If you haven’t but would like to understand this illness a little better, this is the most important thing I can tell you about it: when depression sucks you under, your first thought is, “I wish I was dead,” not, “I wish I wasn’t depressed.”

That’s because depression isn’t just about feeling hopeless. It’s also about being unable to feel good. You can’t even hope to feel good because in the world of depression, there is no hope. Oh, sure, you ‘know’—on a strictly intellectual level—that the depression will eventually lift. It always does. But you also know that it always comes back. Again and again and again. It feels like the only way you’ll truly escape it is death. Although, who knows? If there is some kind of existence after death, there’s no telling you won’t end up depressed for fucking eternity. And that fear is, honestly, what’s kept me alive all these years. That and some antidepressants that worked well for a wonderful 25 years.

The best thing my antidepressants did for me was make me feel normal. I’ve suffered from chronic depression since I was a kid, so when I finally got on Zoloft in my mid-30s, it was the first time in my adult life I’d ever felt normal. The psychiatrist who diagnosed me told me I wasn’t a good candidate for ever going off my meds. I was fine with that—as long as my meds kept working. I knew at the time, though, if my meds ever stopped working, it would be hell to go back to living with chronic depression.

I was right. In the five years since my meds stopped working, I’ve seen a couple different psychiatrists and tried countless new meds. Nothing’s worked. It’s enough to make you wish that the stupid rock you’ve been pushing up the hill would just roll right over you and crush you to smithereens. Pieces so small they can’t feel pain.

But, instead, you pause. Take a deep breath. And go back to pushing that freaking rock.

I post my blog on Sundays. Follow me on Facebook, Instagram, or Substack, or sign up for my monthly newsletter (here). Also, please follow me on Amazon, Goodreads and BookBub.

Buy my historical romances, This Restless Sea, The Green Silk Gown, and Variations on a Romance, at Amazon.