I am depressed.
Yes. That is clinical. I have extreme lows that threaten my life or its stability. Perhaps it is linked to my OCD and Tourettes, perhaps not. I am not a psychologist so I couldn’t be sure but I’ve talked to enough of them to know what I struggle with and how it affects my life. The results aren’t pretty. I spent most of last week in bed not really caring if I ever walked outside again. My sheets were my only friends and they could care less. And I was glad they could care less. I didn’t care. I wanted to not exist.
I feel extremely fortunate that I have people in my life strong enough to disagree with me regarding my worth. Even more fortunate was I that they made sure to tell me. I don’t give a damn how many self help books I read, connection with other people is key to a balanced and happy existence. It’s when I feel disconnected that I am most sick. I know that. I wish everybody did. Because then maybe the world over, 100% of the human race would acknowledge something that is just plain fact:
How we treat each other makes all the difference.
It can make or break lives.
I’d rather take a person’s left hook to my face then a someones indifference to my person. That is the cruelest sort of treatment. I find it difficult to breath when I’m in the presence of indifference. This has to do with my low self esteem.
I’m sure we’ve all experienced it at one time or another. And at first it’s confusing. They don’t care? Like, at all??? And the truth is that some people don’t but they’ll use us anyway. That sort of treatment is what works on destroying another’s soul. To treat another human being as an object and not a living creature is the most irrational and empty sort of behavior on this planet. It would be safe to believe that only psycho/sociopaths were capable of it. I’m sorry to say that’s not true. Many people allow themselves to engage in indifference at one time in our lives or another. I would venture to say its a good/bad scale tipper. Objectification of living creatures is disassociation with one’s own humanity. It’s what makes the world shit. But because of greed or cowardice it happens and when it happens to you it changes the way you look at yourself. They way you feel inside. Now imagine if this was the environment you grew up in. Would you ever be capable of valuing yourself? That’s what I struggle with everyday.
So the past few weeks have been hard for me. And hard on my son. His “tween” attitude of “bugger off mom” and “I don’t want to be around you” certainly hasn’t helped the way I feel for myself. No, my happiness it is not my son’s responsibility but I’m sure that growing up with a parent who suffers from depression is the corner stone of what has become the extreme and beyond-his-years intuition he has developed. My disease is not his responsibility but it is his lesson. And all lessons put before us our our responsibility- to learn from. I just hope that he will grow stronger from what he’s learning. I’m afraid he’s inherited my depressed nature.
For now I’m doing better. This year, as you know, has been rough for us to say the least. And I found the weight of all these months finally breaking last week. I didn’t want to scare anybody but I understand why I did. Still, I’m glad for this blog as sometimes it is the only thing I feel comfortable talking to. The week looks good ahead. It’s been chilly, then warm, then chilly again. Perhaps the weather knows what’s going on inside me. Looking ahead I don’t go beyond a couple of hours from now. I’m finding little steps are helpful now so as to limit any possible disappointment. I’m not really set up for a big disappointment right now so I’m treading lightly. As long as I keep moving forward I should be fine. Douglas will be fine as long as I am. Shelby has been a pillar of strength. One day at a time. And one hour at a time. That’s what I can do right now and I’m content with that.