Anger and trees

For me, depression brings a certain amount of anger. Not the kind of anger that could result in me acting inappropriately in public, but the kind of anger that's frustrating, annoying, and ends up becoming a part of my psyche. It's deep seated. It comes from deep down, and it's been with me for longer than I can remember.  It affects my life in more ways than I can count.

(Stay with me here... this one's got an OK ending.  I promise.)

What makes me mad? It's 'cause depression has stolen so much of my life from me. That's what.

If I am an average human being, I am about halfway through my time on this earth. Depression has stolen a large portion of that life so far. It has taken my social life. My romantic life. It's pretty much nixed the chances of starting a family. Best I can hope for at this point is joining someone else's. Depression has stolen friends from me. Experiences. Things I wanted to do but could not. Places I wanted to go but was unable. So much wasted time, so much wasted....me.

I try to look forward, and not backward. I know there's nothing I can do about the first half of my life. It's close to a write off at this point. Fixating on the past and what could have been is a sure path to making a bad situation even worse. I know deep in my heart that I cannot change the past.

That doesn't help. 

Truly, I wish it did help. But, I am still mad at mental illness. I am mad at the stigma which makes it near impossible to live with (and makes me post anonymously). I am mad that it's so difficult to access professional care for this condition. I am mad that very few people understand what happens to people with this condition.

Most of all, I am mad at....myself.

Mad at myself for being vulnerable to this condition. (Yes, I know that one isn't reasonable but I feel it anyway.) I am mad at myself for not being stronger.  I am mad at myself for waiting so very long to get help, as my life wasted away.

“The best time to plant a tree is twenty years ago. The second best time is now.”

- Chinese Proverb

I know that I should have taken steps to fix my broken mind twenty years ago.  But I didn't.  The second best time to start down the road to recovery is.... right now.  Consider the tree...planted.

Thanks for coming along on the ride with me, and I hope you plant your tree too.

Chicken? Egg?

The oft-asked question.  Which came first, the chicken?  The egg?


Which came first... the depression, or the loneliness.  Do they feed off each other?  Do they cause each other in a spirally festival of self-fulfilling?  Being lonely is most assuredly a contributing factor to how I feel.  Bouts of loneliness can definitely kick off a trip on the spiral-down highway.  And, being depressed can certainly limit social interaction, contributing to loneliness.  It's a vicious cycle.


I have been single for more years than I care to count.  Suffice it to say I do not have enough fingers to count that high.  I "chose" years ago to stay that way as I found dating and relationships far more stressful than most people.  Side effect of the Condition, naturally.


Recently, as part of my recovery efforts, I lifted the moratorium.  So, what we have now is an occasionally severely depressed person who is super lonely, "on the market" but still dateless, and who is wondering vaguely if the ban on interpersonal relationships contributes to my trouble, or keeps it from being worse.  I truly can't decide.


Let's be honest here too.  "On the market" means if someone I thought I might be interested in proposed a coffee at some point, I'd probably say yes.  I certainly haven't progressed to asking anyone out, seeking out like-minded people, or anything else.

I am open to new experiences but not quite strong enough, it seems, to seek them out.  


Like all things with this whole scene, it seems this is to be a process.

Uh-Oh...2

I've discussed a technique to try and side-step an episode brought on by a Really Bad Day(tm).  Something that would make anyone moderately upset, but something that would be very likely to drive us into the pits of despair.


But.

What happens when something really tragic happens.  A loss of a job.  A serious illness in the family.  A death of someone close.  Thankfully, none of these things are happening to me at the moment, however, I do expend time worrying about just that.  My parents aren't getting any younger, and situations like this are inevitable.  I am concerned that my mental state won't hold up under the strain that will occur.


And this time, I don't have an answer.


Distraction is a fine technique for me to dodge triggers.  I just don't know how I would get through a real traumatic event without becoming literally catatonic.  On the floor, unable to function.  In the list of things that I worry about in my life, some of which are figments of my feeble brain's imagination brought on by this condition and some of them aren't, this concern rates highly on the "it matters" scale.


Maybe...just maybe....all I can do right now is work on recovery.  That way, when something like this happens in the future, I'll be better equipped to handle it.  Because let's face it:  "What If" is a sure path to darkness.