I have a depression complex that I’m not as depressed as I could be therefore I am not doing it right. I can’t even do that to its full potential. It’s my quavering depression. A depressed depression. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not depressed all the time, that would be exhausting. It comes and goes like the ebb and flow of human emotion- or chemical balance.
Let me start close to the beginning… of my day. I woke up around 11:30 am to my alarm pissing me off. I went to sleep at an indecent hour because I was feeling a feeling of frustration that could not be identified. I sat down to blog about- or in spite of- said feeling and to (not really) my surprise what came out were bitter, unkind words. I deleted the first, second and third drafts until I decided to just sleep without publishing a blog. That frustration and then disappointment of not completing anything yesterday was there waiting for me when I awoke today.
I had an appointment for a job interview. In my opinion, a very bad job that I have no interest in taking. Regardless, after cancelling on him the day before and him insisting I come in for an interview, I did. I regretted that decision as soon as I walked in to the establishment and focused my eyes on the Christmas decorations that were puked up in there. We sat, we talked, I gave him thoughtful answers and I walked out and smiled. I’m glad I did something I didn’t want to, I felt more accomplished and in control, knowing for sure that was not the right option for me. No matter how unemployed I am at the moment.
On the bus ride home- generally my favorite part of any outing- I saw something that struck me, mightily. I saw a Salvation Army volunteer standing in front of the Water Tower Mall ringing the bell. My heart stopped, my brain scrambled and all hell broke lose inside of me wondering: “Is this woman excessively ringing that damn bell throwing off the bell-angel-wings curve?” Which, honestly, isn’t a bad thing if you believe in Angels. Perhaps they (angels) wait for the holidays to get their wings because of all the natural bell ringing activity around. I mean, when you think about it – who rings a bell in May?
Thinking seriously about my perplexer and how her normal activity, her job, could possibly drastically alter something we don’t even know about I started to think a little deeper. When I finally arrived home I was frustrated and wanted to cancel the cool plans I had for this evening (which I did *depression*). A friend called and we chatted out the frustration. I told him I couldn’t identify the source of the feeling – which was kind of a lie. I knew, or felt, that I wasn’t getting anything done. You know my challenges – weight loss, finding myself, finding a job and writing.
NONE of those things can happen (or be completed) overnight. NONE. OF. THEM. Sometimes, I forget that. Even on a plane ride you don’t go from point A to point B without: packing, transporting, security, boarding, the actual flying, landing and getting out of the airport on the other side. Although, once you’re in Sunny, Wherever you’re there and the expedition that led there has no relevance. Which is translatable on a bigger picture. Once you reach a goal, you don’t relive the moments of strife, worry and unassuredness, you wipe your brow and continue onward and upward.
I kept telling my friend this is “growing pains.” I am in the process of changing, growing and becoming something I wasn’t and the result is not tangible or visible, to me, right now. I am not getting a haircut, I’m proliferating my soul. (wow, proliferating my soul. that sounds awesome. and important.) That can not be done overnight, or with a DIY home kit. It takes experiences, courage and a lot of pain and rejection to stem from.
I wonder what 80 year old me will be like? What will matter to me when I’m old and on my way out? I’m pretty sure it won’t be that one time this or that one time that… Moments do matter, but I think it later forms into a collection of moments. Those times I felt happy, in love, or crazy because I broke a law. (I have never broken a law.) (;)) Moments matter – are you ready for this – in the moment, but it’s like a story of moments that you keep as memories. Living in the moment is a big movement these days and to do so is a feat in itself. However, living in a string of moments that are webbing a net of safety, security and a foundation on which to rest on when times are bleak or at the opposite end of the spectrum (be it time or emotion) is what will make this life endurable.
I’ve mentioned twice in this episode the need to complete something. Famous words insist it’s not the destination that matters, it’s the journey. It sounds so meaningful yet extremely impractical as I believe we are a results focused society. I could be “writing” a book for the rest of my life and that’s great, but even to me it doesn’t count until I can say I’ve “written” a book. I enjoy the act of writing, constructing sentences, manipulating words to form a point, but I won’t have a finished anything if I just continuously write every day with no “The End” in sight.
This could be a problem. The focus and obsession of the ending point takes away the love and joy of the journey to get there. Having experiences under my belt has always been a thrill of mine. Being able to say I’ve lived in 3 of the largest U.S. cities, traveled abroad, triumphed over greater evil or even worked a job for this amount of time is a ranking, a notch on which someone can measure against- or up to. I’m tired of comparing myself to others. I was afraid this stint of unemployment would wreck my self worth. Throw me to the bottom of a pit of despair (say it in The Albino’s voice) and then throw a bunch of cats down there too as the lemon juice to my paper cut. Instead, I’ve become more self loving and nurturing, genuinely happy and positive as well as extremely hopeful.
My parents were/are great examples of people who can experience a plethora of adventures during one lifetime. Combined, their job history is enough to make up a job search website. Not to mention all the little things, people, places, prison sentences and marriages in between. To top it off they had two WONDERFUL children who are successful adults with no known enemies (known). I don’t think my father, who passed last year, would consider himself a failure in any regard. At the age of 67 he wasn’t out climbing mountains, cultivating millions of dollars for his kids to get spoiled on or regretting the things he didn’t get around to accomplishing. Instead, he was sharing his big heart, charitable spirit, never ending support, unconditional love and all the stories of the glory days with anyone and everyone he encountered.
He is inspiring. Getting caught up in a result which doesn’t feel reachable or having a low moment where nothing seems manageable is a moment… that will soon pass. The ability to make those moments few and far between or less sour thinking about the future would be a gift. It’s hard to bring yourself out of that hole, that depression. Absolutely, though, you will make it out. Sometimes it’s the decision just to make it out that ends up saving your life. It’s never too late, you’re never too old and being a decent human being is what fills the heart with meaning.
7 thoughts on “My Tremulous Depression.”
That is wonderful. Love ya sis!
I understand that anxiety that comes from being in the midst of a shift. All that pent up energy ready to do some sort of task, some sort of tangible thing from beginning to end. This I absolutely identify with.
Depression. That sick, dark lonely sluggish empty place. Scary to think about. Such a helpless feeling in that pit. I was just there, I know.
Today I am a little more tired. Today I’m a little less ambitious. I’ll admit it. Life and my unattained expectations of others has made a dent in my Wednesday’s resolve.
To motivate myself (too many pararaphs…..anyway), to motivate myself I like to think about everyone out there encapsulated by their fear and self-doubt. Then I envision myself breaking…just fucking tearing through that shit on my own. Taking those things people say “can’t be done” or “can’t be changed” and visualizing myself fucking doing and fucking changing those things. Living and breathing the change and the energy and excitement that comes from conquering something you know is right and not impossible.
The only difference between me and someone great, is that they stopped saying no sooner and just got out there and made it happen. Not blindly pursuing some fruitless end, but finding something value to them and never saying it can’t be done.
People are so afraid to fail and hurt and shame themselves. I won’t be paralyzed by this any longer. My repeated failures will teach me the necessary lessons to ensure my ultimate success. Let’s do this shit. And by shit I mean life….
I know, right. I really feel like I’m in a “stall” but believe it’s the calm before the storm. Storm of ludicrous speed type explosion into a bigger change and the better things ahead.
I want people to start grasping for bigger and better ways of life. Depression is unavoidable, but it shouldn’t come from disappointment in one’s self or them feeling like they could be doing more.
You writing your blog, Simon???
to busy replying to yours…
I don’t have time this week, but its good to read yours and respond to it. Next best thing. Sometimes better actually.
Pure gold! U r so relateable in ur writing. Although, I do love me some garish Xmas decorations. Love the part about the salvation army woman, love the part about ur dad, love it all! Can’t believe this is the first time I read ur blog. Keep writing!
Very nice. I have never really been a goal maker. Although it’s probably because I’m lazy and fear failure, I have convinced myself it’s because I’ve let life unfurl itself. I guess there are two types of people. Those that need to conquer life and accomplish things and those that (no, not let life conquer them) sit back and see where this ride is going to take them.
Depression is like a dark ghost that latches onto your soul and follows you around to see what life it can suck out of you, but without it would we truly ever know what happiness is? Maybe. Through my long ass battle with depression I have learned a few tricks. One that always seems to pull my head out of the hole is telling myself I am depressed because I am stuck in one of the stages of grief. Which is it? Why am I there? What’s my lesson? Take the time you need to learn that lesson and get the fuck out! Moments, Journeys, deep breaths…thats the good stuff!