Friday, September 7, 2012

Depression Theatre: Popping the Bubble

I understand why people kill themselves, and I shouldn't, and I don't want to. I believe in Hell, even when I'm so pissed off and disillusioned that it doesn't feel like anything could exist but the pain. There's not even a reason for it! I cried when a nurse practitioner told me it was low thyroid, because that can cause depression. That's a reason. And I cried again when my regular doctor took me off the thyroid medicine because it was making my heart race, making it impossible to sleep or think, and because that meant it was just depression again.

If you believe the whole brain chemicals thing, it shouldn't make a difference. If you don't believe it, just knowing me is enough to prove it's got to be more than dramatics. I can't control it, God, I wish I could. My eleven year old has better emotional control than I do. She'll freak out at little things, because kids do that, but in half an hour, she's back to herself. Half an hour later, I'm still reminding myself not to do anything stupid. Same an hour later. Same for days, sometimes.

I even have reasons to be depressed, real reasons to be ever-so-slightly discouraged about life. I worked my ass off in school, worked my ass off to go to college, and it seems like life keeps shitting on me. It shits on everyone, I know. It's my own fault for making bad decisions, I know. I should be able to just get over it, just work through it like everyone else does, but the littlest things can set me back so far.

Someone reminds me of my faults, and I'm useless for days, just hating myself. I know logically that I'm smart, I'm a good writer, good designer, good artist, good parent, but none of that means anything because smart doesn't get me a job. Good writer, designer, artist, doesn't get me a job, doesn't get me I don't know, love or something. I don't even know what I want.

Do I want a house of my own? Yes. I would like to get my life out of storage after almost three years. I would like my daughter to have a space all of her own, and all of her toys. I'd like to be able to stop telling her I'm sorry, that's in storage, and tell my family, I can't get that for you, or I can't find out, because that's in storage, too.

I'm not a big guy, so I let someone else pack the storage unit. He and his friend piled stuff up in such a cluster that I can't get it apart without either injuring myself or going into a rage and just breaking it all. My paintings are supporting box corners and there are beer bottles scattered around. My belongings don't remain in storage because I'm lazy.

This is where I'd complain again about being unemployed if I hadn't done so a hundred times before. A note on that subject, though. Pizza Hut sent me an e-mail after I applied saying they don't have any jobs I'm qualified for.

My friends get sick of the drama. I don't blame them.

I feel like a complete waste of life having to hide the scissors when I get like this. I've never hurt myself like that, and I don't like even the urge to do it. I can't control that, either. I don't sit down and say, I'm miserable. I want to cut to punish myself/to show people how much I hurt/to remind myself that I really am alive, and I can still feel.

I've been over that before, too.

Why do you even bother?

Because I don't have a choice.

There's always a choice. Your choices got you here.

I tried! I tried to do the best I could. I listened to my parents even when I didn't want to, I never did drugs, I never sneaked out, I didn't even teach myself to cuss until college. I was nice to people who were mean to me. I've tried to be everything anyone ever wanted me to be, so why can't something go right?

Because you don't get anywhere being nice. People are attracted to confidence. They want someone who knows their own mind. What the hell do you know?

I don't know.


And I'd continue trying to convince my inner critic that I'm worth something, but the mind blank just got me. Sometimes it's annoying. Sometimes I'm in the middle of telling someone something, maybe explaining to my sister why I'm acting even more pseudo-emo than usual. Then poof I've got no clue what I was saying.

It's trying to get me again. I'm having trouble stringing together sentences, but right now, I'm fine with that. I was feeling really bad a few minutes ago.

So, to paraphrase: I was having suicidal thoughts and self-harm thoughts, and chose to blog while listening to Don't Jump, by Tokio Hotel. The depression bubble popped. I'm still miserable, but no longer leaking from my face (highly unpleasant, that) and no longer thinking, self-harm or otherwise. If I wasn't out of cereal, I'd go have myself a bowl of comfort food.

Moment passed, nothing to see here. Move along.

*insert amusing cheese factory anecdote here*


  1. I don't know your circumstances, I don't know who you are deep down and what you've been through. You're just some random person I seen follow me on twitter at 1 o'clock in the morning and for whatever reason I felt compelled to follow your site link and boom - here I am.

    I'm not here to direct you to a suicide hotline because you already have all the answers they could possibly provide. I do want to let you know some good news: you are not stuck with you. If you don't like where you are right now, emotionally and literally in life, you're not stuck with it. You can change, you can grow. Not by being a raving lunatic of an optimistic and prancing around yelling "Everything's alright, Everything really is alright!" as bombs drop around you, but by realizing that we are the grand total sum of what goes inside our mind. If you want to change what you've been getting, you've got to change what you've been doing, and what we do is a direct reflection of what we believe about ourselves and the world around us. It dictates how we react to situations, and whether or not we're able to respond to others. Want to change what you are? Change what goes inside your mind. Turn off the TV, get rid of those daily conversations about the shitty things in life, get rid of the people who constantly bicker and try to convince you you're not worth it. You've got to control your inputs and you'll control the output. Seek out positive inputs, be it books, audiotapes, people, movies, and use them. Thrive on them.

    I understand you're unemployed and I'm also here to tell you that's 100% under your ability to control. No matter what industry anyone's in, they're really in the people business. As a manager myself, I know first hand that employers do not hire resumes they hire people. Confidence is huge, so obviously a state of self-loathing and depression will kill your ability to clearly communicate your competency as a human being. Once again, change the inputs and you'll begin changing the outputs in all aspects of your life.

    I wish I had more time to express these things more clearly, but hopefully if you take away one thing it's at least this:

    You can change what you've been getting in your life and who you've been by changing what goes into your mind.

    Best of luck to you, stranger!

    1. Thank you for following, Garrett. I saw your bio on Twitter and was impressed by the "Published Author by age 15," among other things. Thought I'd follow along and see what you had to say.

      I'm working proactively on my self-image and building confidence. When I slip into self-insults, I compliment myself to combat it. There's some emotional abuse in my past, so it's been a work of progress ever since I realized it wasn't normal. I'M a work in progress, and backsliding aside, I'm on my way.

    2. Great to hear! You got this. Everyone's a work in progress, anyway.

  2. Is there anyway you can go back to your doctor and demand some help? Sounds like some Cognitive Behaviour therapy may help as well as counselling. If your doctor is rubbish, find another one - get second opinions. Make a chart for each day that you can list the positives on. Write down at least one positive thing for each day, even if it's small like "the milk hadn't turned this morning".
    These are just some things that we were told to start doing for my OH. He's back to work after being for over a year, so something is helping somewhere..

    Love you sweet, remember you have more friends then you realise. We may not always be around, but we are hovering in the wings xx

  3. Thank you, Hells. <3 My doctor is on the ball and my medications are working. Unfortunately, "real stress" is stronger than medicine. I was recommended a book on CBT, but I think it's in storage. Feeling much better today.