depression, emotions

Gratitude

I grew up without a lot of stuff. My family was poor, but we did eat every day. Most days we had 3 meals even. I rarely had the latest and greatest toy, which is why I started working before I even went to high school. I wanted my own money for my own things. I think it is because of this that I learned to be grateful for what I have.

Over the years, though, that gratitude has dropped quite a bit. I appreciate what I have, but I want more. I need more. As my income increased, my need for “stuff” increased, and while I can recognize this, I do not know how to change it. I have enough stuff. I have too much stuff. How do I get back to not needing more?

I think part of my brain sees what others have and I do not want to miss out. I want to enjoy nights out. I want to buy frilly things. I want shiny objects. I want and I want, but I don’t need.

I tell myself that these things will help control my depression and lift my mood. In reality, though, I think it does the opposite. I have crowded my life with so much “stuff” that I do not have any time or room for the things that I need. I need interactions with people, but not too many. I need time to meditate and a clear space to do it. I need fun times with friends that are not expensive, but still enjoyable or even silly. These are the things that I need. But how do I make my gratitude recognize this?

What brings out the most gratitude in you?

depression, emotions, Song Lyrics

Story

I have a lot of stories. I have a lot of adventures in my head. When I was at my lowest, you were there for me. Alcohol, drugs, death…. you were there. You had no judgement. Decades later, I am who I am because of you.

You see the smile that’s on my mouth
It’s hiding the words that don’t come out
And all of my friends who think that I’m blessed
They don’t know my head is a mess
No, they don’t know who I really am
And they don’t know what I’ve been through like you do
And I was made for you

All of these lines across my face
Tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I’ve been
And how I got to where I am
Oh, but these stories don’t mean anything
When you’ve got no one to tell them to
It’s true, I was made for you

Thank you for believing in me.

depression

Baffled

Some people are good at pairing wine with food. Others are good at pairing whiskies with cigars. Some people are amazing at pairing random things to make an outfit with a statement.

Nobody, however, can be good at pairing depression and anxiety with a skin condition that baffles the doctors so much that they cut your skin off and send it to Star Labs.

I have had many skins I’ve the years from eczema to cellulitis. This? What I have now? I’m stumped. Google says I have heart disease. WebMD thinks I have viral fungus that attacks hair follicles. Don’t even ask me what Bing thinks.

So I sit here with stitches in my leg and a piece of my skin missing wondering which of them is right. I guess I just have to wait for Star Labs techs to so their tests.

emotions, Song Lyrics

Generational

There is the age old joke about the current generation’s music being just noise compared to the previous version. The oldies are the best, right? But what are the oldies? Your parents might have a different idea than you. Your children definitely have different idea than you. So where is this coming from?

I had a deep connection to the music in the 80s and 90s. That doesn’t mean I do not like the music after that, but it wasn’t the same. I could hear a song and I would stop everything to close my eyes, focus on the song, and just let go. While I like and even love some songs from the last couple of decades, it is rare for me to feel that. Is this because the music is not as good or because I am not as connected to music as I used to be?

Well, that happens to be a great question. I recently said “Yo, my bitch, Google. Play some Roxette and keep the shit coming” (okay, I said “Okay Google. Shuffle Roxette’) There were a couple of songs that made me stop, drop my eyes, and roll my mind. It was like I was thrown back in time. So no, I do not think it is my lost connection. I just think I do not connect with the newer artists.

Lyrics from Roxette

In that big big house, there are fifty doors
And one of them leads to your heart
In the time of spring I passed your gate
And tried to make a startAll I knew was the scent of sea and dew
But I’ve been in love before, how about you?

depression, emotions, Song Lyrics

Brave

I am not really a people-person. I am more of a people watcher. I like observing people to see what they do or what they say. If I could have a superpower, I think it would be invisibility of some sort.

I have my moments when I need to be the center of attention, but that’s usually a one-on-one situation or a very brief lack of judgement on my part.

I was taught to follow polite society growing up. People, especially children, should be seen and not hear. Bonus points if you know where that is from. People don’t want the truth. People want happy. People want acceptance. People want to be right. I can’t give them that. I try, but I usually avoid saying anything in order to avoid saying my truth.

Now, keep in mind that I am saying “my truth”, not “the truth”. I do not claim to be right, but I am me. And I wish I could speak my truth more often. Sometimes I feel burdened by all of the thoughts and people in my head, but other times I feel more enlightened.

Innocence, your history of silence
Won’t do you any good
Did you think it would?
Let your words be anything but empty
Why don’t you tell them the truth?

Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave

Sara Bareilles

depression, emotions

Suicide

Trigger warning: this post will cover suicide and my experience with that. If this is a trigger for you, please do not continue.

Recently, someone I knew took their own life. He wasn’t a close friend by any means. He wasn’t even really a friend. He was someone that I knew in passing. Someone I have had conversations and laughs with. So if we weren’t friends, why I am talking about this? Why is it affecting me so much?

Those questions are not easy to explain to people that do not have MDD. The answer, though, is the same as why Robin Williams death affected me so much. This person seemed to have everything. He was young, very attractive, accomplished in his education, well traveled in the world, and more. And yet, he still felt hopeless enough and low enough to take his own life. If someone with so much fell to lies that Depression tells, what hope do I have in the long-term?

This is one of my very few triggers. Between 16 and 26, I tried to take my life several times. I am glad that I am completely incompetent at that. I damaged my liver and was sick for days, but I survived and I thrived. Eventually. I have a great life. I love my husband. I love my job and career path. I love my friends and those close to me. And yet, in the dark recesses of my brain, the thoughts of suicide are always lurking. Always waiting for me to let my guard down. Fighting Depression is a lifelong war. Losing to Depression is a single moment in time. It only takes a moment.

We don’t talk about suicide in polite societies. Only druggies, drunks, and weak people take their own lives. Right? Right?

anxiety, depression

Burnt

The past week was awful. MaDD (My name for MDD) just about did me in. MaDD attacked my brain like it was double overtime and the plates were loaded. Or some sports metaphor.

I knew instinctively that I would make it through the week, but there were days that my heart gave up and days that my mind gave up. I was tired but I couldn’t sleep. I was stressed. But mostly, MaDD was yelling louder than usual.

That can only mean one thing. I need to consider changing my medications again. That is never a fun process. I never know who I will be once the meds kick in. Each time I get set on a course of meds, my personality changes with it. Why, this one time, let’s just say that I lost a few friends.

And now I’m wondering if MaDD is good name for my MDD. That’s what my brain does when scary thoughts come up, line changing my meds. I get distracted by details.

This last week was darker than I have been through in quite a while. I almost think the old, pre-pandemic me is fighting with the new me and I’m stuck here in the middle.

emotions, Motivation

Voice

I often have odd questions. Sometimes those questions are “stupid questions”. Sometimes that questions answer the questions of the universe. And sometimes those questions baffle the minds of everyone that knows me and wonders how in the gods’ name I could ask that. This is the latter.

I find voices to be interesting. They can be sexy or they can be rough. They can be high pitched or screechy. They can be annoying or just not noticeable. Have you ever thought… “I would listen to them read a dictionary.”? I thought so.

That leads me to my question. You get to decide which category it falls under. With all of the cosmetic surgery available, are there surgeries to adjust your voice? Can I get a deep, soul searching voice for a few thousand dollars? Can I get the Nanny’s voice for a few hundred? What is in a voice?

These are questions that need answers, but questions that cannot be asked.

anxiety, depression, Song Lyrics

Sides

When I am walking down the street and I hear people starting to laugh, I know that they are laughing at me. Is my hair wrong? Is my zipper undone? Do I look weird? Or was I singing to myself again.

When I meet people, I’m awkward. I want to be liked, but I’m a strange kind of different. I often feel that I need to be “that person” in order to fit in or be liked. Sometimes I feel like I’m too normal or whatnot. Let me tell you. It is stressful.

My name is currently Aleczander Lourd Maverick and I suffer with MDD. (That is not Mother Against Drunk Drivers for the record).

I’m talkin’ to myself in public, dodging glances on the train
And I know, I know they’ve all been talkin’ about me
I can hear them whisper, and it makes me think
There must be somethin’ wrong with me
Out of all the hours thinkin’, somehow I’ve lost my mind
But I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell
I know, right now you can’t tell
But stay a while and maybe then you’ll see
A different side of me