depression, emotions, Motivation

Inaugural

I have a confession to make. I was 16 years old when I tried to commit suicide for the first time. It wasn’t about being gay, it was about belonging. Most of you won’t get this since you haven’t worked with old school phones, but sometimes when you hang those up, they don’t fully hang up. And you can still hear what the people on the other side are talking about. The old school landlines were like a portal. You had to actively and definitively cut the connection or it would stay open.

I have never repeated this story. I don’t think anyone knows about this. My best friend in high school went to visit another close friend of his. We talked on the phone at some point, but when he hung up the phone, the connection wasn’t severed. As I held the receiver to my phone, I heard them talking about how annoying it was to be friends with me. How clingy I am. And it kept going.

An hour later I took 200 Tylenol pills. I was done. I was ready to try something different. I didn’t want to be a burden or an embarrassment.

That was the first time that I tried to end my life, but it wasn’t the last. Depression is sneaky and angry and constant. No one likes me. Everyone is laughing at me. Those people over there are talking about me. I’m too poor to have pants that fit correctly. My hair is stupid. I’m awkward. Am I one of those homosexuals?

Depression lies.

Depression lies.

Depression lies.

I never recovered from that phone call. It just got worse. And worse. I fumbled with recovery. I forced myself into people’s lives to show them that I was fun, I was a good guy. I wasn’t a bad person. I pushed to be accepted with people that just didn’t want to take me on.

That was the beginning of my suicide attempts, but it wasn’t the end. It was also the beginning of my struggle to figure out who I was and what I wanted to be. It took several attempts and an act of love to break me out of that cycle.

I have a confession to make. I have never told anyone this story. My heart breaks for the 16 year old me laying in the grass, throwing up as the Tylenol made it’s way through my system. I have never told anyone that my best friend came home and kicked me out of his life because of my failure and struggle. I learned early on that people are incapable of understanding the effects of depression.

I have a confession to make. I suffer from major depressive disorder. I am not normal. I am not fine. But I am okay. And I am thriving.

depression, emotions, Motivation, Song Lyrics

Frighteners

I have a confession to make. I have major depressive disorder. Just kidding. I mean, I do, but you should know that by now. My last post was a bit frightening. I try to keep my posts PG-13, but sometimes I need people to understand the R rated version of my illness. Last night was one of those times.

When I see a celebrity or famous person having major struggles with depression, it makes me lose hope. These people literally have thousands or millions of people that would drop everything to help them and yet, they aren’t necessarily in a better place than me. When this happens, I typically get triggered. But it also makes me think, will honest conversations about depression and suicidal thoughts alienate us?

Celebrity suicides and mental health struggles are a frightener for me. It always makes me question myself and my hope.

With that said, I’m going to leave you with a chuckle. I always thought Chris Isaak was singing “No I, don’t want to fall in love, with you”. I could not have been more wrong.

depression

Depressionist

Depression is a dark and scary place. If you read my posts, you know that. Or you should. I often hear the phrase “if you need help, reach out”. I don’t want to laugh, but, well, here we are.

People that don’t have major depressive disorder just don’t understand it. They don’t understand the daily grind of my mind. Just like I don’t fully understand being diabetic or having fibromyalgia. It really is hard to understand things that are so far outside of “normal”.

Suicide is not a stranger for me. My first bout was in high school. People didn’t like me. I overhead my two best friends talking about how annoying I was and exhausting.

Later in life, it was drunken mistakes that left me humiliated. Did I really do that? Why would I do that/ I lost a close friend to that before I was even legally able to drink.

How do you tell someone that you are having suicidal thoughts? Like, yo, dude, my brain says we shouldn’t be here anymore. What are your thoughts on that? Or, yo, dudette, can you believe that I did that? My brain is ready to check out..

If I call you and say, I am struggling with suicidal thoughts… that permanently changes everything. Whether you want it to or not. So are you really there for anything?

When your depression is strong, you burn through friends quickly. They want to be there for you, but it is not easy. It’s not easy at all.

anxiety, depression, emotions, Sleep

Dreams

Dreams are very strange things. Most nights I do not remember anything. Sometimes I will have a vague recollection that fades over the first couple of morning hours. Lately, though, I have been having very vivid dreams two to three times a week that feel like memories. In some, I vividly remember sensations like flying or running or screaming. Almost like my body is remembering it. In others, the dream is a full on memory lodged in my head.

There are days that I think I would willing go into the Matrix if it meant I could control the dream and the reality. Like having sex with Jensen Ackles or Chris Evans on the monthly. Being able to travel the world and experience new things without my anxiety tripping me up. Having normal mental energy and extra spoons (see the spoon theory).

Outside of the Matrix scenario, I do feel like sleeping more. It’s harder to make myself get out of bed in the morning. I have started sleeping past 10am again. I have slept through my alarm a couple of times. I don’t know if it’s my depression creeping up on my rearview or if my mind just likes the dream world better. Because let me tell you, some of those vivid dreams that are locked in like memories are spicier than Chris Evans doing a screen record live on Instagram.

And with that, let’s get some music going.

“Sweet dreams are made of these…”

anxiety, depression, emotions

Rose

A rose by any other name would smell as sweat. Would clinical depression or major depressive disorder by any other name smell as sour? I have never been a huge fan of the term “major depressive disorder”. Is there a “minor depressive disorder”? Is there a “depressive order”? And what about anxiety? What the hell does “social anxiety” mean? When I am in bed, alone, lights off and my anxiety kicks in, does that mean there are ghosts and spirits that are trying to socialize with me? What does the social part have to do with anything?

I want new names. Depression should have degrees or stages. For example, instead of major depressive disorder, we could have Messy Brain stage 5. Chaos in the Mind to the 5th degree. What about mind melt phase 5? Dark and Cloudy in the Head for 500.

Depression means different things at different times. Being sad is the most common symptom that I have from day to day. Being anxious isn’t the major cause of my anxiety. We need to move away from literal names for mental disorders/diseases. I’m not sure if we need broader terms or more specific terms. How can we ever expect people to take mental health seriously when we use common terms that apply to people without mental health issues?

depression

Disabled

I don’t like the words “disabled” or “disability” when it applies to depression. My brain rejects the descriptors as if I am giving in. If I am disabled, does that mean that the depression has won? If I am not, does that mean my depression isn’t real?

We have a new group at work that is designed to support people with disabilities. There are people with moderate to severe physical disabilities that clearly need accommodations at work. The obvious options are ramps, elevators, adjustable desks, and such.

There is a new push, however, to include mental disabilities in the same category and this rubs me the wrong way. I almost feel like I am that person with the “emotional support” dog that barks and pees everywhere. Or the people that pretend they have a service dog, since businesses can’t really ask too many questions.

Should mental disabilities like depression and anxiety be given accommodations at work like physical ones? What would those be? Can they put me in a cubicle outside, so I have the sunlight? Can I request an enclosed cubicle so that the annoying person singing doesn’t distract me? What exactly is the benefit of including depression and anxiety in workplace accommodations for people with disabilities?

And most importantly, does adding mental disabilities take away from the benefits that people with physical disabilities get?

depression, emotions

Anger

The thing about anger that a lot of people do not understand is that anger is not inherently bad. What you do with your anger is either good or bad. Or maybe even indifferent or evil.

We have to remember that our emotions are inate within us. They are natural. People can be happy while murdering people. I mean look at the leading serial killers. Sadness can lead to strenght and change. Look at the parents and children that survived school shootings.

I get angry sometimes and typically cannot hide it. My face is a beacon for strong emotions, whether good or bad. But that anger is just a natural process that my mind needs to process something.

Sadness is the same. Sometimes I need to just embrace my sadness for a little.

Emotions are tricky. They are important for our growth, as long as we use them for good.

anxiety, depression

AvP

I really enjoyed the Alien vs Predator movies. I really enjoyed the new Predator movie “Prey” even more. But that is not what this is about. This is about me, obviously. Just in case you forgot.

Anxiety attacks and panic attacks are almost the same thing but they are very different. They have similar symptoms, but you shouldn’t confuse the two afflictions. I could describe the differences between the two, but then I would have to kill you.

(Do I need to add a sarcasm note here?)

I have been suffering from anxiety attacks all week. I don’t know why, so don’t ask what’s wrong. Nothing is wrong other than these stupid anxiety attacks. I used to think the difference between the two was external stimuli versus internal stimuli. Then I thought the difference was the intensity of the symptoms. Now… I have no idea.

So, here is where this non-doctor is going. For me, Panic attacks are short and bitter sweet, typically caused by an incident and soon forgotten. Anxiety attacks are my brain fucking with me from all angles on a slight and subtle level over hours.

I keep trying to figure out what is causing the anxiety attacks because everyone keeps asking me. Like, dude, what happened? (Don’t get me started on the people that confuse being anxious about something and having anxiety).

I don’t know what’s causing my anxiety. Maybe I need new meds. Maybe I need talk therapy again. Maybe I need another shot. Maybe I need to leave this apartment. Maybe I need to have sex with Paul Rudd. Who knows? Do you?

anxiety, depression, Song Lyrics

Off

How about getting off of these anti-depressants

How about stopping eating when I am full up

How about not blaming you for everything?

How about me enjoying the moment for once?

How about grieving it all at one time?

How about no longer being masochistic?

How about unabashedly bawling your eyes out?

How about not equating death with stopping?

How about remembering your divinity?

Thank you divinity.

Thank you divinity.

>Alanis Morissette (sort of)

anxiety, depression, emotions, Song Lyrics

Hero

People talk about their internal struggles in regards to animals or angels and devils. They have two dragons battling inside or two tigers. They have a good angel and a bad angel. But not me. I have two women from the 1980’s battling in my head.

I need a hero
I’m holding out for a hero ’til the end of the night
He’s gotta be strong, and he’s gotta be fast
And he’s gotta be fresh from the fight

and

We don’t need another hero
We don’t need to know the way home
All we want is life beyond the Thunderdome

and

Somewhere after midnight
In my wildest fantasy
Somewhere, just beyond my reach
There’s someone reaching back for me
Racing on the thunder
And rising with the heat
It’s gonna take a Superman to sweep me off my feet, yeah

and

Looking for something
We can rely on
There’s gotta be something better out there
Love and compassion
Their day is coming (coming)
All else are castles built in the air
And I wonder when we
Are ever gonna change, change
Living under the fear
‘Til nothing else remains

and

I need a hero
I’m holding out for a hero ’til the morning light
He’s gotta be sure, and it’s gotta be soon
And he’s gotta be larger than life

and

So, what do we do with our lives?
We leave only a mark
Will our story shine like a light
Or end in the dark
Is it all or nothing?
We don’t need another hero