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.

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, 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.

emotions, Motivation

Fantastical

One of the most amazing things about my husband is that he gets caught up and rides the wave of my fantastical thoughts and dreams. I don’t think he believes them any more than I do, but he doesn’t question them. I talk about my newest fantastical dream and he goes along. Like, it could happen.

I talk about moving to a small town to be in the Gilmore Girls world. I talk about moving to Spain to be among the beautiful men. I talk about buying property in Oakland. I talk about so many things. And the love of my life… he just goes along with it. We both know these won’t happen, but he never bursts my bubble. He encourages this.

My newest and most fabulous one? I am going to buy a house in Guerneville while finding a fully 100% telecommuting position. I can be there five to six days a week. We can swap between our apartment and there. I can walk down main street holding his hand without fear. I can be. I can live. So much life with so little outside interference.

I love me more and more as the days go on. My dreams get bigger and better. But one day, these won’t be dreams anymore. They will be. We will be.

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

depression, emotions, Song Lyrics

Bullets

I heard a song recently and it got stuck in my head. I was excited because I thought I was on to a 70’s or 80’s song. I don’t usually get those in my head. I thought it even might be David Bowie (please don’t hate me)

But it wasn’t any of that. The song was from 2017. And I hate myself. It’s almost as bad as that time that I found out I loved a song by Justin Bieber. This time, though, it wasn’t quite as bad. It was Harry Styles.

Here we go with Sign of the Times from some Brit dude that is way too young for me to be looking at.

If we never learn, we been here before
Why are we always stuck and running from
The bullets?
The bullets
We never learn, we been here before
Why are we always stuck and running from
The bullets?
The bullets

Just stop your crying
It’s a sign of the times
We gotta get away from here
We gotta get away from here
Just stop your crying
It’ll be alright
They told me that the end is near
We gotta get away from here

I really don’t want to live in a world where so many fucking value guns over life… the life of children. My head hurts, my soul cries, my brain cannot handle…

depression, emotions

Pride2022

June is Pride month. I am doing my best this year, but I don’t have a lot of pride this year. Let’s be honest here. The last two years I have gotten older. I have gained weight. I have been spending most of my time at a desk for work or for school. Apparently I have outdated ideas for how to celebrate Pride.

I have not seen the extent of the ageism in the LGBTQIA+ community until recently. I was not a pioneer of the Pride movement, and there was an entire generation before me. I have, however, pushed and screamed to get equality. I dreamed of having a wedding where I walked down the aisle in an outfit with the top half being a tuxedo and the bottom half being a sprawling wedding gown. Black of course.

The time was not right, though. I did not have a lot of openly gay idols. I typically stuck with my divas like Madonna, Tina Turner, and, of course, my idol, Cyndi Lauper. I remember in high school when I waited until after first period, which was wood shop, to run to the bathroom and use temporary dye to put orange and yellow streaks in my hair. I remember having the checkerboard shaved into the side of my head. But, and here is where my origin story music would start, I was bullied. I was knocked down. I was tossed against the locker. I was fucking weird.

I left home at 17 to get out and find the world. I spent the summer with my oldest brother to visit and get advice on school. I enrolled at a university but at the last minute, I dropped out. What if life at that university was the same as my high school? I would be all alone in a city of millions of people and no one to turn to. No one to go home to.

I made some friends in the town that I was in. Obviously I moved out of my brother’s place. But I stayed there. My friends loved me and we had fun, but I wasn’t honest with them yet. That was to come. That is another story for October.

I finally came out by accident. That’s a story for an afternoon at the bar. So many mimosas needed for those stories.

I joined the Navy. I was going to be a Nuclear Submarine Engineer, but Clinton signed the Don’t Ask Don’t Tell law. That is yet another story for another time, but I got booted.

As I look over my life and my experiences, the bullying, the gay bashing, the beatings, the drive-by beer bottle tosses, I can’t help but think that I deserve my place in the community. As I look for ways to celebrate and show our Pride, I keep getting the “that’s for old people” or “we don’t really do that anymore” or “how old are you?”.

And now, as we are approaching SF Pride, and as we are wrapping up the Pride month, I am tired again. This time, though, it’s not the same people pushing me down. This time, it’s different and I just don’t have the energy to fight today.

So, Happy Pride. Celebrate. Be yourself. Love yourself. Call me if you are feeling low or down or bad. You don’t have to be alone, but I am not going out to be there in the moments of Pride.

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.