Musings of a depressed mind (627 hits)
Category: GeneralRating: 2 on 4 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Morph (View user info) at 2004-03-19 04:26:48 EST
"Here I go again on my own...."
Was it Whitesnake who wrote that cheesy shit? It's always on your own. Not sure I could share it anyway, who'd want to pass this feeling on?
Ebb and flow, ebb and flow.
I'm teetering again, I've got that feeling again.
What's gonna happen this time?
Will it pass like last time?
I hope so.
Things aren't bad you know, in fact I should be happy but, what's "should"? Why "should" I feel happy? Yeah great, in the material world things are pretty good, the job situation is looking very positive, I'm seeing a great girl and I've got my health.
Physically anyway. Who defines when you "should" or "should not" feel happy?
Ebb and flow, ebb and flow.
What is it that keeps triggering this, inside, that keeps coming up to show me that it's still there? All I want is to just shut my eyes, my eyelids feel so heavy, I feel so heavy. I feel awkward, uncomfortable, but I'm not sure what with. Maybe I'm uncomfortable because I don't have the time to deal with this feeling - I can't be absent from work, and I can't be absent when I'm there. It's quite frustrating. It feels unfair. Why can't I have time to be me, just because I have to oil a machine I don't care about when I feel like this?
Am I mad? Why should I feel this feeling building up when nothing's really that bad? Where does it come from and why does it just turn up unannounced?
I just closed my eyes for a few seconds, because, although it didn't give me respite, it felt more natural - like that's the best thing to do right now. I can feel myself perpetuating this feeling, like some morose game, trying to push myself to the limits, but I don't think deep down it's me doing the pushing. If it was, I'd be able to push myself back again and stop this introspective crap. I can't just shake my coat and rid myself of it, as a dog would do after swimming in a lake, no, it's in the grain. It's like a tea stain on a wooden plank, it goes deeper.
In a weird sense I can feel the level of this feeling as though it is on a barometer. If I scaled the barometer from 1 (height of orgasmic climax) to 100 (Agonising Mental Pain with no other option but suicide) there would be a section running from 40-50 which would be yellow - mild warning: but don't worry.
50-60 would be amber fading into red at 60-70. Danger I guess.
I run at around 25 normally. I'm quite optimistic, I like life, I like myself most of the time and I wouldn't want to be anyone else. Sometimes when things go bad, and they hurt or they upset me, although it feels bad and it's all around me it's really only about a 45 - because it's superficial. It doesn't feel like that at the time, but it's easier to get over and doesn't have any lasting effect. 45 is finding out your friend is in pain. 45 is thinking you're going to lose your job.
Occasionally I hit 65. 65 is finding out your girl is sleeping with someone else. 65 is the six hours you endure when the drugs don't work like they should and they tear you up inside your head and make you irrational and scared you'll not come around. 65 is the base level - you know it's terrible and you can't cope but you know deep down inside you will eventually. It's what's past 65 that scares the shit out of me.
Past 65 is the unknown. It's feeling like there is no way back, that it's never going to end and you can't remember what it felt like to be at 25 because there is another force at work and it's bigger than you. I guess that for me 99 would be borderline suicide and 100 you'd never remember because then your pain would be all encompassing and absolute and the only way out would be absolute too. I reckon thoughts of suicide could start as early as 67-68.
I reckon I have hit about a 90-92 before.
Whenever I've read about depression in the past, I've always imagined a useless, self pitying fool, of no use to man nor beast. Someone who just sits around waiting for others to pick up the pieces while they feel sorry for themselves and laze about. Basically I've' always looked at depressives as selfish and weak. Nothing like me.
I had no idea of the difference between someone who suffers depression, and someone who suffers bipolar(or 'manic') depression. I always imagined a manic depressive to be someone who is out of control and lives out their day looking for new and more damaging ways of killing themselves. I always pictured manic depressives as dressing in black, gothic style clothing, with black painted fingernails and feeding obsessions with death. But it's not like that for bipolars. They just go from extremes of happiness, over-confidence and elation, to feelings of utter worthlessness and hopelessness in a very acute swing.
I'm depressive. Just your bog standard depressive. If there is anything 'standard' about depression.
Nobody knows about my depression because it was difficult enough admitting it to myself, let alone broadcasting it to all and sundry. Especially as they'd probably view me as different, or needy or some other bullshit which I'm not. Truth is, I guess I'm quite popular - I have loads of friends, many more acquaintances and a mobile phone with over 100 names in it. So I can't be a loner or socially deficient. Also, although it's fairly hard to judge yourself, I reckon I must be fairly good looking, because I've been attached to some pretty good looking, intelligent women and with the odd exception, good looking women don't 'do' ugly guys. I wear fairly stylish clothes, but I'm not anal and I'm certainly not a poseur. I have fairly well respected job, so I can't be a bum.
I just get depressed, and when I do, the only solution is to ride it out. Sympathy doesn't help, neither does someone saying to you "come on mate, snap out of it, think about the positives" because it doesn't work like that. In fact, it can make you worse because you realise that your friends 'think' they understand but they actually have no idea of where you are mentally. Problem is, neither does the sufferer. That kind of realisation creates a gulf between you and the people you love. And it hurts like hell.
When I started writing this, I was teetering around 60, fearing 70.
When I put it down and wrote the second section, I can't remember what I was because I just felt so tired from the depression.
When I finished I was around 40.
In summary, someone with depression doesn't get a kick out of it - they don't WANT 60+. They want anything under that, or anything except what they're at.
Trust me, I'm not a doctor.
User Reviews
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2004-03-31 06:06:40 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Quality.
Submitted by UberWeiss (user info) at 2004-03-19 08:20:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I don't think there's such a thing as 'dealing' with depression as much as living with it.
The best is someone trying to be helpful like - "It's your diet." or "You should go exercise more!". How bout it's a chemical deficiency or abnormal function of serotonin?
Nope, it's just me, now fuck off.
UW
Submitted by Hove_Ho (user info) at 2004-03-19 06:44:57 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Chill out - have a solero.
Submitted by Random Joe at 2004-03-19 05:08:09 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
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