(Untitled)
I think the word which best describes the "opposite" of depression is "fulfillment". For myself, at least, depression is the inability to be fulfilled by those things by which I would otherwise be satisfied. This explains (in principle) the concurrence of depression and loss of/severe increase in appetite and sexual drive...Biologically speaking,
( Read more... )
I don’t know what the opposite of depression is. To be honest I don’t really fully understand my depression. I’ve gone through periods where I blamed it on external factors. I’ve had my chemical levels tested and they came back within “normal ranges” whatever that means. Given its recurrence and affect on my work, school, social and relationship life my former therapist and I diagnosed me as a chronic melancholic who suffers from depression. He told me that taking anti-depressants would help but it was likely that I would always be somewhat melancholic.
I certainly would not say that fulfillment is the opposite of depression for me. In fact, I am quite often very successful and active when I feel particularly unfulfilled. Picking specific things that aren’t up to my standards gives me goals and a passion to complete them. When Amanda asked me if happiness was the opposite of depression I sat there and thought “no… but I don’t know what is.”
Depression for me is not being able to get up in the morning and go and do things I know I love. I just lose all will to live and feel that I’m just another ant. Although Kiera loves ants I don’t like the concept. I am scared out of my mind by a totally purposeless existence where I am easily replaced.
I am an experience junky. I distinguish between pain, misery, happiness, and all these other emotions because it helps me feel balanced. I brush away from going through a week being too objective because I really enjoy feelings things. I brush away from feelings things too much because it destroys my objectivity and has a negative influence on my relationships. Most of my life is trying to balance those two.
I don’t wallow in misery because it is warm and comforting. I do intentionally let myself feel miserable just to have the feeling occasionally. If it was warm and comforting… it would take away from the experience.
That being said the depression and the occasional experience of misery (or pain, or anything else I subject myself to) are totally separate issues in my mind. Feelings are things I expose myself to intentionally. Depression is a beast which doesn’t let me have that control. It just happens. You could say I choose to be depressed by not taking the meds however I don’t think its that simple. If I choose to be depressed it is because I feel like it is something I should be able to beat. Not something that controls me. Using meds would be like using crutches to walk. Then it isn’t me walking… it’s me and the crutches walking. Asking me to give up my individuality is akin to sticking a knife in me. Oh well.
The fear that I have is of being like everyone else…. Being human. I’m not afraid to suffer. I’m not afraid to be happy. I’m afraid to be just another body that passed through life. Interestingly enough… I know that is just what I am.
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment