Experiencing Depression

One of my favorite Vloggers, Laci Green, did a pretty personal vlog on her channel, Sex+, about her own experience with depression. It’s worth a watch:

She’s right when she says depression is isolating, just like TheBloggess is right when she says that depression is a lying bastard.

It’s hard to remember, in the thick of it.

For me, this most recent experience of depression has existed as a series of dips along a continuum. I can’t remember when I first felt myself falling into the hole…it’s been a really long time. I’ve been here for a really long time. Sometimes, the hole is deeper and darker than other times, and I feel like it’s so dark I can’t see the way out. I have suicidal ideation. I feel like no matter how hard a light shines, it cannot pierce the darkness. And then…somehow…because I make myself talk to Eren or Zyn, because I make myself move away from my brain long enough and focus into movies for six hours instead of staring into the heartache of racism and sexism/misogyny and transphobia and heteronormativity and monosexism, of staring into all the ways I’ve failed to be perfect….

Somehow, I come out of the deeper pits.

I’m still in the gray, though. I get a little higher some days, and some days I remember what it was like when I felt like I could touch the sky, what it felt like when the wind brushed my skin and sunlight poured in.

I think part of this is that so many days, I have trouble even moving. I would like to get out more. Heat exhausts me, and we’re being slammed with heat waves. Sometimes reaching down hurts. Sometimes walking hurts.

And I am riddled insecurities–that I read so much and post so many readings that my friends are annoyed, that I ‘love’ or ‘like’ too many things on various social networking sites, that I clog my friends’ feeds.

It makes it difficult to do what I’d like to do with this blog–more in-depth posting, less personal posting. I need to dig into things, and keep up with my academic things for that. Instead, I’m listless, and reading so much to run away from my brain, and then feeling empathic pain from much of my chosen reading, and then doing neither the digging in nor the posting.

I’m trying to remember to be compassionate with myself. My wife is certainly compassionate with me. I’m trying to remember that not everyone is completely irritated with my lack of ability to do anything, or disappointed in me.

I’m trying to figure out if there are triggers for some of these deeper pits. I think there are, for some of them. Some of them seem (for now) unavoidable. Others mystify me for now.

My experience with depression is much like what I think (without re-reading) this blog post probably reads like: a lot jumbled, as my mind tries to skitter away from things I need to examine in order to repair myself. I have at least e-mailed a therapist.

I am hopeful for more and better posting as I find my way out of the depth and gloom.

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Writing, Depression, and Expectations

Every week, I set myself writing goals. I don’t set them only with myself–I set them with my Dom, too (though the ones I set with myself are loftier than the ones I set with him, usually). Up to this week, I’ve set a goal of one post per week with him, and hoped for more from myself. This week, I’ve set myself a goal of two posts.

It’s Thursday, and I’m writing my first post for the week.

I’ve spent most of this week on my couch. Part of this has been due to heat–our a/c has been on the fritz, we’ve had a heat wave, and even on my best days I haven’t handled heat well. I actually am allergic to heat after a certain point–I get itchy, break out in hives. Having high blood pressure and being on medication for that puts me at a little bit of an elevated risk for heat-related issues, too. And the heat has made me *exhausted*. I’ve still had insomnia, but I’ve been falling asleep in the early evening (when it’s hottest in here) and waking up in the early morning (when it’s coolest), which has wonked my days completely around.

But a larger part has been depression. I’ve just been too out of anything other than deep sadness to *do* anything.

I had Eren home a bit extra this week due to some scheduling mix-ups, and so we got to watch some movies we’d been planning on watching together (Boy Meets Girl, which *gaspshockawe* stars a transgender woman playing a transgender woman in a romantic comedy and The Extraordinary Adventures of Adele Blanc-Sec, a tale of a French novelist’s adventures to save her sister) as well as a couple I’d planned on watching but not necessarily with Eren (An Honest Liar, at the advice of TheBloggess, and which is focused on James Randi and his fight against dishonest deception using honest deception; and In A World…, focusing on one woman’s attempts to make it big in the voice-over industry). It helped to spend that time away from reading and deluging people’s feeds with the things I read every day.

I’m trying to tell myself that it’s okay that I got a late start to this week’s two posts–that writing one today isn’t ‘too late,’ and that I will do better next week and get the first one out earlier. Depression makes that hard. It tells me I can’t do it, that it doesn’t matter even if I do.

I’m trying to hold onto the bits of light I see, though, in these movies and in the inspiration I see my friends posting. My voice is small, but it can matter. It doesn’t feel like it’s doing anything, but it is.

Here’s to tomorrow’s post being better, and to next week being even better!