Saturday, January 24, 2015

Sometimes my emotions betray me

I look at the last thing I posted on this blog, a sentence of the day, and it says 'Do not engage". It's a reminder to myself not to allow the part of me that is depression to take up any more time than I need to tell it to quit it.

Do not engage with it. I have to remind myself not to give it the time of day, and I have to remind myself that it's the one playing games, that it's not me. It's out to harm and it brings me nothing of value, at least not in the present moment. Its the one leaving dog turds in flaming bags on my front porch as it knocks on the door and runs away laughing.


Sometimes my emotions betray me.

I find it hard to put structure around that sentence because how can my own emotions betray me? How can something that is of me, a part of my own psyche, be so malicious towards me?

 According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary the word betray means:
  • to give information about (a person, group, country, etc.) to an enemy
  • to hurt (someone who trusts you, such as a friend or relative) by not giving help or by doing something morally wrong
  • to show (something, such as a feeling or desire) without wanting or trying to
I have come to see depression as a nasty character in my life embodying every single negative thing that has ever been said to me. It's collected it and how it felt with it happened, its skillfully remastered it into a tape that plays in my mind constantly.

It is out to harm and it is out to hurt. Sometimes it appears in the guise of being helpful and protective but it's always out to kill joy, destroy confidence and erode self-esteem.

It sneaks in and tramples anything good I manage to grow and there are days when it does a grand job of killing off everything basically worth living for.

It's the saboteur that stifles creativity, puts seemingly insurmountable obstacles in the way of reaching even the most modest goal and that kills of any pride I feel in whatever I do.

It kills by arrival and its poison permeates everything until apathy, depression's pale little BFF, grips my heart and soul and fills it with a darkness that just refuses light of any kind.

Depression is shit.

Depression isn't me.

Sometimes my emotions betray me.

A lot of what I emote and feel is born out of the depression that's been with me for about four years now. On days like this I wonder how it became so strong again and I can see that it's done its thing again. When it can't get me with words and phrases it resorts to a much sneakier method to find foothold.

Food. It sounds so pathetic but for someone like me processed food, sugary treats and simple things like bread cause havoc. Add to that simple dehydration and we have a sure fire recipe for disaster.

It's progressively almost tricks me to compromise eating habits. One cupcake can't be bad, right? It's only one, it's a special occasion and I've trained so much lately. One little cupcake....and we're on the slippery slope to where depression is winning the election and fascism is the order of the day. Let's face it, depression is a dictator and it doesn't like sharing the power with silly peeps like hope, faith, joy, growth, success and contentment.

For the past month and a half I've been in training for the race in August. I've done well. I'm running (at slow pace) 5km now despite my dumb knee and my resistance training is firming up parts of my body that really need it. I have allowed myself to feel a little proud of myself, and considering that a year ago depression had such a hold of me that it had begun manifesting as joint aches and painful muscle tension in my body I think I earned the right. I sit here today after a night of virtually no sleep and a body that feels quite a lot like it did a year ago.

I got here by bad food choices and not a lot of them. Choosing the right foods, fresh foods and lean protein, preferably plant protein, is the only thing that triumphs over depression and keeps it at bay. I'm kicking myself today because I allowed myself to slip up, I allowed myself to be tricked again. I'm sore at myself. I'm sad to the core. I'm cooking an omelet made with lite cottage cheese and I'm serving it with mixed greens for breakfast. I'm contemplating if there's such a thing as a healthy version of a red velvet cake that I can on my birthday next week. I'm fighting back. Depression may have won ground for now but there ain't no way I'm letting the f***er win. There ain't no way.

Sometimes my emotions betray me.

Sometimes I become a warrior woman who fights for my own right to be well and I don't take prisoners.

Most of the time I think it's not good enough to exist in a space where I have to live with the depression. It's not good enough for me!

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