Depression is a chemical reaction in the brain. It’s brought on by a number of things, chronic pain, crisis, stress. I thought it was emotion based. I felt like a failure for not being “man enough” to cope. Really unfair to myself, and all men. No wonder depression is so under reported, there is a stigma attached. I should take a picture of the GIGANTIC billboard that I drive past every day. Says something about that…
I have a couple issues, I am resistant to taking drugs to float me out of this moderate depression, I have done some research, I don’t want the side effects. Maybe I’m just especially fond of doing things the hard way. I have absolutely NO judgement for people that do go that route, really I am astounded by the volume of people around me that take them. Sometimes the drugs just work, and again, if suicide is an idea that has sprinted across your mind please, please, talk to your Doctor. I am a negative self talker, and I dwell a bit, I over think, analyze, I “pit bull” things.
All this reading and research I have been enlightened, however the sheer volume of information is a little overwhelming, and you can’t believe everything you read on the internet…shocking… I know. I have also learned that the act of admitting “I am depressed” can lead to depression… to make it clearer, you are depressed, and you think about being depressed, which makes you more depressed, like marching slowly down a spooky spiral staircase into an abyss.
There are different kinds of depressive thinking, Some of the websites I’ve read;
The long and short of it, accept you are depressed and then look to move forward. Don’t stay in bed, don’t pace in it, don’t stress about it, only will makes it worse. Basically, “don’t pick at that”
My second appointment went better, my Therapist was prepared with rational type exercises for me. A chart to track activities, and moods, and a sheet to help refute the negative self talk. I like the pragmatic approach to things. I want them to make sense, and I want to do it in an orderly fashion. Just ever so slightly type A. I was complaining, no, venting, to Cherise. “I have acknowledged that I have been depressed for some time (basically the entire time I have lived here) and started taking action, it’s been a whole month. How much longer till I’m fixed???!” Unfortunately It is not just a flick of a switch, I found the switch, but it needs to be wired, before it will illuminate. Sigh… I hate waiting. The venting took place on sunday night, and monday morning I couldn’t find the wires. I was anxiously awake at 5 am, but physically couldn’t drag myself out of bed until 10 when I got a motivational text from my darling cousin (thanks again!). At 10 I relocated to the half-a-couch and spent an hour on the phone with Vanessa. I was mentally kicking the crap out of myself, “such a failure” “a mess” “why can’t I just make it to work!” I was truly being an asshole to myself. After an hour with my darling V (I am so proud of her) I showered and made it to work. I was especially productive, but to make up for going late I left early for my appt. I found it interesting that my therapist, someone I have only spent a couple hours with remarked at my strength, said that she was surprised I wasn’t more involved in the community because she sees my potential to thrive. I was complimented. I often wear my extrovert Type A on my sleeve. After my appointment I went for tea in the sun and spent a glorious 2 hours at the gym. My day was not a “failure”, and I was not a “mess” I just had a slow start. I need to find an outlet, and spend time doing something I love.
I need to figure out, or remember, what I love to do. Me, alone. Something that isn’t as easy as it sounds. Remember over a decade of leaving myself low, or off the priorities list. My boss asked again today if I needed time off, the therapist suggested no, unless it was to do something awesome, not taking time off to stay in bed. He said I physically look better this week…and again made sure I knew he was good with me having a life outside of work, encouraged it even. Work, can’t be on that list, I do enjoy working but I have to dig deeper. Find joy. Fill in the holes that are affecting my psyche. Plus, my job, isn’t super social right now, I’m stashed in the office, I don’t love it.
I went out for lunch today. One of my favourite sales reps has been calling and e-mailing for the last 2 weeks, dropping in a little more regularly, checking up on me. He asked if we could go for lunch, spend a little time outside the store. It was light conversation, he had some funny stories, I helped him with his new iphone, and then he pressed me a bit about what’s going on. I explained, a bit, giving him the coles notes. He laughed at me. Again, I’m fighting back tears, and he is chuckling to himself. I am so young, his life didn’t start until he was 35, he was a mess before that. I am not a failure, and certainly not alone, there is so much pressure on people in their 30’s. His evaluation was that I need to get out. Not to the bar, but out, doing things, that I love. Again, what do I love still needs to be established. He says I am not always the most approachable, and that when I feel more whole I will open up. His final advice? The one thing I should know from his years of experience, heartache, relationships, job changes and life; I am a shark. I was thinking majestic, misunderstood and an entire week is devoted to me on the discovery channel? No… I MUST keep moving forward or I will die. I am a shark.