anxiety, depression, emotions, Motivation

Dumb

I hate feeling dumb or stupid. I work hard to keep my brain sharp and to look for ways to increase my knowledge on subjects.

I didn’t go to college when I finished high school. My anxiety could not handle the move to a place where no one would know me. My depression could not deal with going into a classroom consistently from week to week while also working full time.

Not going to college has always left me with a tiny feeling of dumbness in the back of my head. In the darkest corners.

With my new job that I started in 2020, I have the opportunity to go to school. It’s completely online. The costs are covered with my union dues. It was a simple thing to say yes.

There have been a few courses, though, that have been really tough. And struggling in school is not something I did growing up. It was easy. School was simple. Now the struggle makes me feel stupid. Dumb even. It is hard.

Now, I know that I am not stupid or dumb. I do not need anyone to tell me that. My depression needs to hear it though and I grow tired of talking to my depression and explaining things. I am not asking you to say I’m smart or beautiful. I just want you to know why I am sometimes hard on myself and others for not knowing something.

depression, emotions, Motivation

Older

I am older today than I was yesterday. It seems like such an amazing thing to say you are alive and another day older. Yet, there are those, especially in the gay community, that view that age as a disability. I am not just another day older. I am a figment of an ancient past. An artifact to be tossed in a museum.

The fight to be relevant in the gay community ended decades ago for me. I just do not care. I am not going to be a certain way or dress a certain way. I am not going to like something just because the community has embraced.

I like my gay bars. Community bars just aren’t the same. The protection and safety are not there. The younger generations may not understand the need for protection and safety when it comes to going out since the country has evolved quite a bit, especially in major cities.

I may be old and I may be an artifact, but Zeus was never a spring chicken either, baby.

depression, emotions

Amends

I feel like I am stuck in a nightmare and cannot wake up. I left for my trip to Indiana on Thursday, but I never made it there. I made it to the Dallas Fort Worth airport and then became stuck in a mess of cancellations and bad luck. My flight kept getting delayed over and over until, finally, it was just cancelled. American Airlines sent me a text to book a room, but they only paid for one night. They did not pay for the ride to the hotel. Or the ride back. The rebooked my flight for three days later. On my four day trip.

I made it to the hotel that night to find the handrail in the elevator was not attached to the wall. Simply leaning on the rail caused it to drop off. That was fun. The next morning I realized the sheets had dried blood spots on them. More fun.

I spent the night and half of Friday trying to rebook my trip to get to Indiana on Friday, or even early on Saturday. I finally gave up and asked them to send me home.

After $1,200 and more than 48 hours, I finally made it home. But I can’t get out of this funk that I am in. This darkness keeps wrapping itself around me. What did I do to anger the gods so much? I just do not know.

How do I make amends?

depression, emotions, Uncategorized

Me

Sometimes Google memories will show me a picture of myself and I’m happy and I’m laughing and I wonder, who is that person? How did that happen? But then I think back and my memory reminds me, there have been happy times. I have to remember that.

But when I get into my darkness and my little corner where there’s no light it’s sometimes hard for me to see that person. But luckily for me, Google memories keeps those thoughts close.

Sometimes it’s important to look back to see happier times and happier me. There is a fine line, though, between looking back fondly and getting stuck in the past.

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.

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 start

All 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?

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.