Saturday, June 8, 2013

Ramblings about depression and anxiety

They say that being depressed is like having a really boring person in your head. Others say it can best be described as being profoundly sad. I say it’s unpleasant, fucking unpleasant.

Being depressed is being robbed of feeling anything that makes you feel even the slightest bit better. If you’re a guy and you get the best blowjob ever when you’re depressed it’s still not going to make you happy. I’m not quite sure what the equivalent of getting a really good blowjob is for a woman; women don’t seem to be quite as obsessed with getting the equivalent of the blowjob as men are with getting blowjobs. You may think I love saying the word “blowjob” just to shock but I don’t. I find the word rather confusing for rather obvious reasons.

Blowjob. See, now I’m confused.

I don’t know why men are obsessed with blowjobs and it really bothers me. Part of me suspects it’s some sort of perverse pleasure they get from something that has to do with getting women to do what they want, preferably down on their knees in a submissive position looking up at them adoringly, something that can be rather hard (no pun intended) and unpleasant should there be a hygiene problem or if you suffer from a rather severe gag reflect like I do. Hard for the woman I mean. Men don’t generally gag when they get blowjobs.

Too much information, I know, but why should I hold back when I talk to you? I don’t even know you!

I don’t know myself and I think that’s part of the reason for why I got depressed. It’s hard to do the right thing by yourself if you don’t know what you actually require. It seems a little self-obsessed running around asking yourself what you want, need and require all the time (Is it possible to make yourself feel like you’re nagging yourself too much?) but I think that’s what’s required if you’re going to live with mental wealth, a state much preferred to bad mental health by most people.

I don’t quite buy the story that poor mental health is a result of your genes or a chemistry experiment gone wrong in your brain. It seems too simple. I suspect we slip into really bad thinking habits and the chemistry going wrong in your brain is a result of that bad thinking becoming habitual. It’s a really simplistic thought, I know, and I have whittled it down to the bare minimums for fear of losing your interest. This shit isn’t all that interesting unless you’re in the throes of wrestling with a giant depression octopus yourself because if you are, then you’re more than likely looking for a way to get out of its firm grasp. If you’re firmly in the giant depression octopus’ grasp then what you really need, sooner rather than later, is to catch a wicked case of good vibrations.

Unfortunately no one has invented a good vibration ray gun so we’re stuck with antidepressants and talk therapy. This is where most of us are lost; it’s not feeling like it’s all that effective because it takes time finding your way back to a chemistry mix that works better for your brain. Depression is possibly the most poorly understood human condition there is.

We think too much and what makes us think too much is ubiquitous assimilation, or the avalanche of information and marketing, that we’re exposed to all the time. There’s no time left to ask oneself how one feels. There’s too much other stuff to do and to pay attention to. Lest not forget the self-help industry that in itself side-tracks us with all that good advice about how to succeed and how to find Nirvana prematurely. “Why can’t I be happy?” is probably the most asked question in the Western world. In the rest of the world it’s probably “Where’s food?”

I suppose if you manage to separate yourself from your depression even while it’s stalking you, you can start feeling better about yourself because you’re so much more interesting than the boring person your depression represents. This seldom happens, in fact, I don’t know of anyone who’s managed to do that.

I tend to stalk an anxiety forum because apart from having been depressed I’m also moonlighting as the superhero Anxiety Girl – able to jump to the worst conclusion possible in a split second. People on the forum regularly welcome new people and I can’t help feeling bad about that. We should grieve for them, have great whaling and whining sessions, because another person has been struck down with what is a bloody terrible condition. If you have a boil you squeeze it and it’s unpleasant. If you have anxiety you think you’re dying while being painfully aware that it’s all in your mind. Maybe. Maybe this time you’re actually really dying.

But, if you’ve thought yourself into these conditions, this depression and this anxiety, then how come you can’t easily think yourself out of them. I mean, eventually most of us come to the realization that life isn’t that bad after all or that there’s no imminent danger to our life but why does it have to take so long? Why do so many of us circle back into that condition after having bloody well freed ourselves from it? It seems rather insane! What we eat and how hydrated we are play a huge role in how prone we are to these conditions but it’s not that simple. If only it was that simple!

I also wonder about the sanity of having anxious people supporting other anxious people, and having depressed people supporting other depressed people. Sure, sometimes you can get some really good tips from each other but I’ve noticed that sometimes you also pick up new ways to be anxious and depressed. There’s also that envy when someone bravely declares that they’ve gone off the meds and feel great. “Nice. Good on you! Now go away! You feeling good isn’t doing anything for me.” Is part of being human being envious but I suppose envy vibrates at a higher vibration than bloody apathy or fear. Oh, well.

I’d still like to find the answer, the real answer, the truth if you like, to why I got depressed in the first place and why I ended up with anxiety. My mind isn’t satisfied with the answer that I had a nervous breakdown it wants to know why. Always with the bloody “why?”

Is it going to make me feel better knowing why? I doubt it, but there is that nagging conclusion that if I know why I can prevent it from ever happen again. That’s bullshit and that’s not depression talking either. If you suffer from depression you’ve missed something very important about yourself and it’s time to pay attention. You mustn’t do what I do, find distraction in everything else and feed the information hunger that inevitably comes with conditions like depression. That’s not how you console a sad child and that’s not how you console a depressed you!

I’m just saying.

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