Tag Archives: writing

Depression Expression

What do you call your depression?  How do you describe it?  How do you combat it?

This is something I wrote a few days ago:

I am so sad.  So deeply, deeply sad.  It’s almost that it is so strong of an emotion, so overpowering and overwhelming that simple words do not come close, not nearly close enough, to describe even an ounce of it.

I wish I were able to depict it artistically in some way.  I understand and appreciate those who do.  Sometimes I will google “sadness” or “depression” and click on the images tab to find the one that speaks to me the most.

All the synonyms, again, are unable to express it nor define it correctly nor accurately.  It is so immense and heavy and weighing.  Sorrow, gloom, despair – these all seem like cardboard cut-outs of the same word, and it does not express the true nature of it.

Sometimes in pictures, it’s shown as a heavy burden, like a ball and chain.  Or a weight on someone’s back or shoulders.  Sometimes it’s depicted like a ghost shrouded in black, or a scream, or a soul being tortured in some way.  Agony, defeat, these are getting closer when you look at others’ visual depictions of it.

It is a hopelessness

And that is where my writing ended that day.  It is strange for me to be unable to put things into words, as writing has always come so natural to me.  I can see poetry possibly being an effective strategy for helping me to express my depression, though I haven’t dove into poetry for 20 years.

Let me know what tools you use to describe your own depression, or to express whatever turmoil you’re struggling with inside.

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Thank U

I can’t really do stream-of-consciousness writing.  I can’t cause I can’t really post anything without editing it first.  I can’t really write anything without editing it first.  Even when I was in high school my friends would tease me because they’d read my letters and know it was my final draft after several first drafts with errors I’d edited and paragraphs I’d revised.  And these were letters we simply passed back and forth in class, so…

It wasn’t like I was being (or am being) unauthentic, it’s just that I’m really into writing and grammar and it’s really the only way I know how to express myself and I’m also a perfectionist so I can’t just pass a note or even send a text without rereading it first.  Or second.  Or third times.

notes

I saved a bunch of those high school letters in a big box at my parents house and every time I always sit down to go through the whole batch hoping with my Adult Self looking back on my Younger Self with all my new Wisdom and Maturity I’ve acquired over the years that I’d discover some eye-opening revelations about my inner self but this isn’t the case EVER cause it’s always just about whatever boy I was “crushing” on at the time and that gets really boring, really fast.

Do you ever watch youtube videos or read other people’s blogs or books and think about what a horrible writer or performer or whatever the thing is that you like to do or want to do or strive to do is just something that you really suck at?

LikeStickersSparkle

Perfect segway into any one of you who has ever “liked” my blog post.  Cause I wrote for a good solid TWO days of posts in a row this past week, and I got alot of likes.  And by “alot” I mean like ten.  (And that is alot.)  And my email will beep-beep and tell me that I have an email and it will say, “soandso liked your blog post” and I will think, “wow!  Really?  Someone actually read it?!  And not only did they read it but they liked it?”

Now, I recognize that it’s very easy to simply “like” something by just clicking on that little button but I spend alot of time deliberating on the choices of “likes” that I make clicking on that little button.  So if I have ever given you a “like,” it’s because I really did like it.

Now, I also realize that not all readers use the same discrepancy with their likes and so sometimes I forget that and so sometimes I give myself too much credit for getting a like from someone, when I go and look at their work and I realize they maaaaaay just be liking haphazardly and not using the full potential of the like button like I do (as I said, I use strong discretion and it carries alot of weight.)

But then I just like to pretend that they weighed it with as much emphasis as I do and then I get happy again.

Alot of the successful bloggers whose only commonality I have with them is that I started blogging and reading their blogs around the same time that they started blogging and reading blogs have now published books.  And that makes me sad (for me, but happy for them) because then I start to fall into this wistful dream-state of oh-what-might-have-been.

But then that’s just silly because immediately after I start to think, “well, what if that moment is now?” as in, if I start really caring and really trying and really pursuing something then couldn’t I accomplish it five or ten years from now?

Image result for negativity vs positivity

Do you ever think that,too?

Or maybe I would just rather use this blog to track my ups and downs (and mostly primarily all the downs cause that’s the only times I post) and not put all that much effort into it as if it were, like, a career path.  Cause I know that those who become successful blogging or vlogging or what-have-you have only been able to do so through rigorous hard work, that it takes years of dedication and commitment.

And then also there’s the instant “equal and opposite” negative BLAST from inside my inner self that says awful things to me about how I could never be as good as them and you’d never be able to write a book and who do you think you are.  And that force is a pretty strong one that typically takes away whatever sort of wispy winds had entered my sails for a brief second.

Charlie-brown-1-sad

So I don’t know what conclusion this leads me to, but I do know one thing:  I whole-heartedly want to send a big thank you to anybody who has liked my writing.  Cause it means alot to me.  And although I cannot measure the sincerity of your like, I still will receive it as such:  “They like me! They like me!

sally-field-oscar-acceptance.w536.h357.2x

Alwrite so I’m gonna right.

I’m not in the mood to write, but I know it helps me.  So I’m going to choose to do the healthy thing even though it is the thing I least want to do.

In fact, the thing I would most like to do is completely give up.  Only I can’t.  Because of alot of things.  Because other people depend on me.  Because I have kids.  Because it would be the easy way out.  Because it wouldn’t fix anything.  Because I have to keep keeping on.

I’m not in the best place right now.  I know those of you who know depression understand.  So I know that I have to focus on the positive right now.  I have to force myself to get through each minute of each day and just focus on what is right in front of me.

I need to take a walk.
I need to focus on breathing.
I need to write to make it alright.

I remember when I was in the psychiatric hospital, we used to get together every morning and state our goal for the day.  Over and over my goal was simply “breathe.”  Maybe people thought I wasn’t being serious (or maybe that was my paranoid thoughts about what others were thinking of me) but it was literally all I could do to just focus on breathing and being alive.  Like, accepting that I’m here and this is it and this is what I had to deal with.  Cause I fought it so hard, fought the fact that I was in the hospital, fought the fact that I had to take care of myself before I could take care of anything else.  Accept that I was sick.

We had art class in the hospital, and it was life-changing for me.  It still is so hard for me to draw or create something art-ful.  Because I feel like I don’t do it well enough or that it won’t look good and so why should I even try?  I need to get back to that therapeutic aspect cause once I started doing it, I realized that it was helpful.  Like helpful-alot.

Right now, today, I have to go to work.  I have to put on a stupid red apron with all this Christmas crap on it and I have to smile and I have to make stupid jokes with the customers.  And I’m doing it for my kids.  To support us because I’m the only one that can.  I have to miss out on them getting off the bus.  I have to work until night and then I get to see them for a while before they go to bed.

Vent/rant:  I’m so sick of everything.  I’m so sick of trying so hard for just simple things.  Like getting dressed, getting ready, driving to work.  Working.  Coming home and trying to be there for my family.  All I really want to do is be alone.  I imagine myself going to a soft cabin in the woods somewhere, being completely alone with myself and no one else.  Just feeding myself and sleeping and maybe writing a little and maybe, if I get the confidence to do it, drawing.  Or creating something.  Anything.

This summer I spent time with my sister and her niece and my kids and my sister’s husband.  And we were at a beach and we had just ate pizza at the beach and we had to leave so we decided, let’s take one more jump in the water, and then we’ll pack everything up and go.

So I dove out into the water and I forgot about my kids and my sister and I left my life on the shore and I swam out and out and out and just kept crashing my body into the water over and over, diving farther and farther out, away from everything.  I would jump up, throw myself into the water, crash through the surface, immerse my whole body deep under the water, then rise back up and do it again.  It was the single best experience of my entire year.

Peace.

 

 

On Writing

I kind of don’t know where to start.

I put off writing because so much time has passed, so many moments missed, so many details I wanted to share but didn’t have time to.  Or maybe I had the time but didn’t trust myself to use the right words.  To keep things positive, to express all the good times.

See, I write for me.  I write to alleviate the stresses and difficulties so that I can keep on keeping on.  So most of my journals are filled with disasterous moments, horrible thoughts, deep down dark secrets that I never want to reveal.

But it’s only because it helps me cope.  And then I can excuse myself from those negative thoughts and get on to take care of things, to keep moving and breathing and living.

So I sometimes feel conflicted about writing on this blog.  I sometimes worry that essentially all I’m doing is COMPLAINING.  But it’s how I process things.  I am not much concerned with the number of hits I get or the number of views or the comments I receive.  What I love, though, is that very thing.  Just the fact that someone took the time to read what I’ve written, and to sometimes have a real person, someone out there who is feeling the same feelings I am, reach out, sometimes from millinos of miles away, just to say, “I understand.”

Now that I’m writing, I want to post and post and post as I do.  I’m sure I’ll again go on hiatus.  But I’ll always come back.  And I’ll always appreciate the friendships I’ve made through blogging.  I know you’ll accept me back.  Because you always do.

Getting Ahead

Walking the Line

Walking
Volunteering
Taking classes

These are some of the things we talked about last night.  A pseudo-list of get-well-soon advice.   Things I will do to help myself get better in that tiny, take-the-edge-0ff way.

Walking – I love taking walks.  I dread taking walks.  Those seem like mutually exclusive statements.  But really, it’s the depression that keeps me from wanting to take the walks.  Motto:  Just do it.

Volunteering – I’ve been wanting to volunteer for a while now, I just wasn’t sure where to start.  Volunteering makes me happy.

Taking classes – in the past I’ve taken writing courses and parenting courses, both of which I loved.  I joined a creative writing group once.

I think I’ll partake in these adventures again soon.