Press Pause?
The hardest part of being depressed is that while you are stuck in it you can see yourself changing, you can see clearly that you are not what you were--but that is the only thing you can see clearly. The positives wash away and who knows where they go, but you know that it will be a while before they return. So you are left with this gaping hole inside your brain, none of the chemicals know where to go, the blood flowing to the brain becomes after a certain point in the cycle less able to oxigenate the organ. This manifests in your body as tension and/or lethargy, and seeps into your heart becoming anger, cynicism, apathy, distrust,despair, self pity,loathing,hate.
I've dealt with this long enough to know it won't last but snapping out of it is not something that is possible to do. You crawl to walk. And you scream to talk. If you've been there, you may have some idea what I mean by that. Slowly, as the pieces of yourself float back from wherever they went to rest, you begin to heal--you see that temporary is not such a hard term to digest after all. But at the same time, "not all at once" becomes a phrase you no longer have patience for.
I think I'm setting up to crawl right now. I'm still living too much in my own head--which I do even in the best of times. The difference is, most of the time I can temper that introspection with activity, with some kind of release, some way to bleed out the noise so I can keep moving and doing. It is always one step foward and two steps back.
The slighest thing can deepen certain wounds or rip away the scar tissue from others you thought long healed. And so it becomes that no matter how much evidence you have to the contrary, no matter how many people you have on your side to refute the false statements and throw out the misbegotten information--You begin to believe the awful things that people say about you, whether they are right or not. I've nicknamed it the negative loop because once you press "play" it goes on and on indefinitely, hissing at you. If you forget to push "pause" or "stop" once in a while--well then that's your two steps back.
It's true I have learned from all of these cycles--but partly because of them and partly because of my lack of belief in myself--I sit here at 25 years old stagnating, and by the world's standards I haven't accomplished muchand I am mediocre in far too many area's to be allowed to shine in my own The terrible thing is that is me that won't allow myself to take pride in my accomplishments. I am gagged and stopped by the knowledge that for every person who is worse then I am at what I do, there are two people who are better. I seem to be good at things that don't matter much in the world that we live in.
So, and here comes the existential nonsense...
Why does it have to be this way? I'm rubbing up against that old nature vs. nuture question I guess--I believe it is both. I also believe, as I've stated, that I've gotten in my own way quite a few times, and in doing so failed to nurture myself on some level.
I guess it will all be okay as evidenced by the fact that I can write again (reading novels again will take more time, I'm doing okay with short articles and blog entries right now)--it is not exactly creative, it may be a little dry,it may disjointed, this ground may have been covered numerous times before--but it's something. Maybe it will all look better in retrospect when I get back to a space where I am not too incredibly hard on myself.
With regard to the future, with the intention of pulling myself out of my head, I am trying to gather resources for when I get a little better, well enough to pick up where I left off, and that makes me feel good--like I'm preparing and accomplishing something.
Looking at the present moment(which is a hard thing for me)I can say that I have family who loves me, despite our slightly sour history, and despite their unnerving tendency to circle over my space like vultures at any given time--they care a great deal.
I have friends all over the world now who are always there if I call them out, friends here who despite my tendency to hold them about 10 feet away when I am upset,remain loyal and accepting.
This moment is made more beautiful by the fact that my sister Valeri wants to emulate me (god only knows why--she only ever see's the good side of me I guess.)
My brother Nigel seems to want to impress me at every turn and calls me his favorite sister, while poking Valeri in the ribs.
My brother Martin misses me when I don't come around to visit--and even though it isn't "cool" to hug your sister at age 12 he does every time he sees me--and of course to offset that he makes sure to throw in lots of little barbs, a visit just wouldn't feel complete with out them =).
Overall, I have formed strong bonds with many. By sharing I think I have helped some people. I've upset others. I've startled some. But at least I've had an effect. Maybe it is arrogant to think that, I don't know.
My modest body of mostly unpublished and roughly put together work has yeiled a few things worthy of saving, others that are just plain embarassing--but if nothing else they are a reminder of the moment in which they were written-- When I pick them up or scroll through them I can usually remember when I sat down to write them--I can bring back that moment and I can conjure up others to piece together. Sometimes I can even begin to create the energy that will bring about the moments I crave.
I hope that those are the things people will remember. I hope when people think of me they won't think of the delay's, the false starts and numerous stops, the egocentricity, the shyness, the ineptitude, the stumbling, the cursing. I hope that they will remember what ever it was about me that made them happy or at least one time where I made them laugh whether by a witty statement or a goofy face.
If I look at it that way I have accomplished something. And that really needs to be enough, it doesn't have to be everything, no matter how much I want it to be--and it doesn't have to perfect. I may never have much or acheive much by most people's standards, but I'll always have the small things.
Tommorow is Friday. I hope that I will remember to look at this as the day drags on, as the negative loop spins and scratches--I'll read this and I'll remember this moment where I put it all together--and maybe...
I'll hit the "pause" button.
I've dealt with this long enough to know it won't last but snapping out of it is not something that is possible to do. You crawl to walk. And you scream to talk. If you've been there, you may have some idea what I mean by that. Slowly, as the pieces of yourself float back from wherever they went to rest, you begin to heal--you see that temporary is not such a hard term to digest after all. But at the same time, "not all at once" becomes a phrase you no longer have patience for.
I think I'm setting up to crawl right now. I'm still living too much in my own head--which I do even in the best of times. The difference is, most of the time I can temper that introspection with activity, with some kind of release, some way to bleed out the noise so I can keep moving and doing. It is always one step foward and two steps back.
The slighest thing can deepen certain wounds or rip away the scar tissue from others you thought long healed. And so it becomes that no matter how much evidence you have to the contrary, no matter how many people you have on your side to refute the false statements and throw out the misbegotten information--You begin to believe the awful things that people say about you, whether they are right or not. I've nicknamed it the negative loop because once you press "play" it goes on and on indefinitely, hissing at you. If you forget to push "pause" or "stop" once in a while--well then that's your two steps back.
It's true I have learned from all of these cycles--but partly because of them and partly because of my lack of belief in myself--I sit here at 25 years old stagnating, and by the world's standards I haven't accomplished muchand I am mediocre in far too many area's to be allowed to shine in my own The terrible thing is that is me that won't allow myself to take pride in my accomplishments. I am gagged and stopped by the knowledge that for every person who is worse then I am at what I do, there are two people who are better. I seem to be good at things that don't matter much in the world that we live in.
So, and here comes the existential nonsense...
Why does it have to be this way? I'm rubbing up against that old nature vs. nuture question I guess--I believe it is both. I also believe, as I've stated, that I've gotten in my own way quite a few times, and in doing so failed to nurture myself on some level.
I guess it will all be okay as evidenced by the fact that I can write again (reading novels again will take more time, I'm doing okay with short articles and blog entries right now)--it is not exactly creative, it may be a little dry,it may disjointed, this ground may have been covered numerous times before--but it's something. Maybe it will all look better in retrospect when I get back to a space where I am not too incredibly hard on myself.
With regard to the future, with the intention of pulling myself out of my head, I am trying to gather resources for when I get a little better, well enough to pick up where I left off, and that makes me feel good--like I'm preparing and accomplishing something.
Looking at the present moment(which is a hard thing for me)I can say that I have family who loves me, despite our slightly sour history, and despite their unnerving tendency to circle over my space like vultures at any given time--they care a great deal.
I have friends all over the world now who are always there if I call them out, friends here who despite my tendency to hold them about 10 feet away when I am upset,remain loyal and accepting.
This moment is made more beautiful by the fact that my sister Valeri wants to emulate me (god only knows why--she only ever see's the good side of me I guess.)
My brother Nigel seems to want to impress me at every turn and calls me his favorite sister, while poking Valeri in the ribs.
My brother Martin misses me when I don't come around to visit--and even though it isn't "cool" to hug your sister at age 12 he does every time he sees me--and of course to offset that he makes sure to throw in lots of little barbs, a visit just wouldn't feel complete with out them =).
Overall, I have formed strong bonds with many. By sharing I think I have helped some people. I've upset others. I've startled some. But at least I've had an effect. Maybe it is arrogant to think that, I don't know.
My modest body of mostly unpublished and roughly put together work has yeiled a few things worthy of saving, others that are just plain embarassing--but if nothing else they are a reminder of the moment in which they were written-- When I pick them up or scroll through them I can usually remember when I sat down to write them--I can bring back that moment and I can conjure up others to piece together. Sometimes I can even begin to create the energy that will bring about the moments I crave.
I hope that those are the things people will remember. I hope when people think of me they won't think of the delay's, the false starts and numerous stops, the egocentricity, the shyness, the ineptitude, the stumbling, the cursing. I hope that they will remember what ever it was about me that made them happy or at least one time where I made them laugh whether by a witty statement or a goofy face.
If I look at it that way I have accomplished something. And that really needs to be enough, it doesn't have to be everything, no matter how much I want it to be--and it doesn't have to perfect. I may never have much or acheive much by most people's standards, but I'll always have the small things.
Tommorow is Friday. I hope that I will remember to look at this as the day drags on, as the negative loop spins and scratches--I'll read this and I'll remember this moment where I put it all together--and maybe...
I'll hit the "pause" button.