Category Archives: Shame

A Channel for the Pain.

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Despite what people may think if they’ve read a few of my entries, I don’t actually like writing about depression. I would really like to have happier topics to write about, and sometimes I’ll sneak an upbeat blog entry in. But, the majority of what I write on here does deal with depression and anxiety. As I’ve said a few times, I’ve been programmed to doubt myself. I’ve been programmed to not like myself. Some people have said I shouldn’t think about it so much, but I’ve realized that the only way I can uncover more layers of my issues is to think about and to discuss it.

This entry though, while it will touch upon some of my issues isn’t really about me. It’s about anyone else that has some form of mental illness and needs an outlet. I feel that as much as I need to vent sometimes, others probably need it a lot more. So, bare with me in this entry as I attempt to discuss a pretty serious topic that, unfortunately I’ve touched on before.

I don’t claim to have the answers. Sometimes, I don’t even know what the questions are. That’s part of my daily struggle. I have no doubt that part of my anxiety is caused by wanting answers to my problems. I may not have answers, and I may have a lot of uncertainty, but there is one thing I am certain of, and that’s simply that I have to keep going.

Very recently, someone that I didn’t know, but some of my friends did know, decided he couldn’t keep going. He made a choice to end his life. I am very sad over this. I’m not just sad for my friends, but I’m also sad because (it seems) that depression claimed another one.

I don’t know the details of what was wrong with him or what lead to his decision. From what I’ve learned about the situation, nobody had any real indication of anything being so severe that this could have happened. I don’t know if it knowing anything in advance would make it any less painful for his friends and family.

The story I’m telling here is one of the reasons I write these entries. It’s my therapy. It’s my outlet. It’s my venting. It’s my way of helping myself. It’s my way of letting people know me. It’s my way of letting people know there’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s my way of letting people know that it’s okay to not be okay.

I know that very often I repeat themes in my blog entries, but that’s because sometimes themes in my life repeat. I try to learn from them, and sometimes that means I have to revisit them. Sometimes, it’s not even by choice that I revisit them, but I do it. Regardless of that, I deal with it. I do what I need to do to get from one day to the next. No matter how sad, melancholy, downtrodden, lonely, or flat out depressed I get, I keep going. I have to. I know that.

Too many people feel they can’t keep going. I feel for them. I grieve for them. I wish I could have helped them. I wish someone could have helped them. I wish they could have helped themselves.

About this time last year, a friend of mine told me about a time she wanted to hurt herself. She said she may have wanted to take it to an unfortunate and ultimate end. She assured me she was okay by the time she had told me about it, but was still a bit down. I told her that she and I would go out for coffee and she would talk, I would listen. And that’s what we did. She’s in a much better place in life now, so she tells me. She also recently told me that she had passed a full year without any self harm. I congratulated her on that and she thanked me for being supportive and for playing a role in her recovery. I know I’m not THE reason she’s better off now, but I know I played a small part in it and I’m proud of that and I’m proud of her.

People need to be able to speak about their problems. Keeping them inside leads to more pain. That growing pain may manifest itself in life altering decisions. Those decisions may have irreversible consequences.

THAT is why I write these. THAT is why I reach out to people. And THAT is why I will continue to write about this topic when I feel I need to. I want to know that I’m okay. I want to know it’s okay if I’m not okay. I want you to know it’s okay to not be okay. And we all need to know that one day things might be okay.

Tonight I’m Trying and I See All Dread in Me.

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A few weeks ago, I almost had a bad day. Actually, I just thought I was going to have a bad day. Because of those thoughts, I ended up having a bad day. Absolutely nothing really went wrong during that day. In fact, I had resolved a few issues early in the day and things were looking good. But, one thought planted in my head caused me to have an overwhelming feeling of dread.

That type of thing is not abnormal for me. The reality is, I expect bad things to happen. And I definitely expect them to happen if I’ve been having a string of good things happen for a while. Unfortunately, when I start thinking bad things are going to happen, my depression kicks in. Yes, the thought of bad things happening to me makes me depressed and that causes my anxiety to act up, which makes me more depressed. Sometimes I’m depressed because I think I’m going to be depressed.

I’ve spoken of my programming and my default settings. I’ve been programmed to think I don’t deserve good things. I’ve been programmed to believe bad things are going to happen to me. I’ve been programmed to think I’m beneath other people. I’ve been programmed to feel inadequate. I’ve been programmed to believe my interests, thoughts, and aspirations are childish, silly, or stupid. Any time I start to think things contrary to my programming, it confuses me and I often revert back to the default setting.

As I said at the beginning of this entry, sometimes I know there’s a depression episode coming and once the knowledge of it comes to me, it’s basically the trigger for me to shut down emotionally, feel sick to my stomach, or whatever my body does at that time during the episode. There are times when I can fight it off, but I almost feel that’s putting off the inevitable or even living in denial. There’s times when I welcome the emotional shut down. It’s almost an “okay, bring it on, let’s get this over with” type of feeling. Although, I don’t know how long it’s going to last. One day? Two days? One week? One month? I never know.

When I started typing this, I wasn’t feeling too bad. But, as I get more and more into it, I started to feel some anxiety. I think it’s a good thing, in this case. It means emotions are bubbling up to the surface. That’s why I write these. That’s why I’ll talk to anyone willing to listen. That’s why I will continue to do whatever I know will be helpful to me. Keeping this to myself just makes it worse. There’s no “light at the end of the tunnel” if I keep it to myself. In fact, keeping to myself makes me feel like the tunnel is never ending and possibly caving in on me.

These entries may sometimes seem repetitious. I know that I touch on the same topics that I’ve touched on before. But, that’s because I have to. It’s because the issues still exist. The symptoms still exist. I don’t talk about it just to talk about it. I don’t talk about it for attention. I certainly don’t talk about it for pity. I’m not a martyr. I’m someone that lives WITH depression and anxiety. I’m not someone that lives FOR depression and anxiety.

I’ve said a few times that I think I’m just scratching the surface with some of my issues. Over the last few months, I’ve read a book and listened to a podcast from a particular person. So many things he’s said about his own depression and anxiety, his family, his relationships, and his worries in general hit home hard with me. The issues are so similar. And that’s reminds me of something I’ve said multiple times in these entries, I’m NOT alone. There are others going through similar issues. I’ve reached out to a few friends recently about some of these problems. Some of us even had a good laugh over the concept of being depressed due to anxiety caused by the fear of an oncoming depression. We laugh about it because we have to. We would probably completely lose our minds if we didn’t.

This entry right here, this is just another chapter in a story that’s ongoing. It’s another day in the life, although sometimes it’s multiple days. As I’ve said before, I’m not giving up. I’ll continue to deal with this, even if the thought of that fight makes me anxious, which causes me to get depressed, which causes more anxiety, which causes more depression…

Yes, the struggle is real. The dread I see and feel is real. But, my determination to keep going is as well.

How Long Will it Take Until There Will Be Room Again For Hope?

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At the end of every year I ask myself if I’m better off than I was one year ago. Looking back at older blog entries I’ve seen that the answer has varied. But, if my biggest regrets of 2015 are failing to read one book per month and still not being able to successfully do the Black Crow pose in DDP Yoga, I think it’s safe to say that yes, I’m better off at the end of 2015 than I was one year ago.

It’s no secret that one of the biggest sources of constant frustration for me has been my financial situation. I have been living paycheck to paycheck for so long. It’s more like surviving paycheck to paycheck. There’s been little to no money left before the next paycheck would arrive. I kept trying to get a second or a better paying job. I would fill out application after application and I would rarely ever hear back from anyone. Then, I started getting replies. I went on some interviews. The first time I had only one interview. The second time I had more than one. I didn’t get hired those times, but simply because I kept going further in the process I had a little bit more confidence. Then something happened, I got hired.

The hiring at this job wasn’t necessarily the good thing I had hoped though. After going through an interview with two assistant managers at the location and seeing them impressed with my resume and what they thought I could accomplish, they set up an interview with the big manager. He also said he was impressed with my resume, but figured I needed a new challenge and assigned me to work in a department that had nothing to do with anything I had applied for. It was an area I didn’t know much about and the pay was commission based. I reluctantly accepted the position, but after just over one month of it, I knew it wasn’t for me at all. Working the two jobs was draining me of all of my energy. Due to the hours I was working and the little amount of time I had between jobs, I was not sleeping much. I had no time to do anything I needed to do at my house. And instead of being depressed that I had no money or food, I was depressed because I had no time to get any good food or to do anything besides work. To make a somewhat longer story than it needed to be shorter, I left that job. But, this story doesn’t end there. I ended up getting another second job that was much better for my schedule. I still have time to do what I need to do and I actually enjoy it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not living comfortably now. I’m just living a lot less uncomfortably.

If you didn’t know the whole story, you would say my social life isn’t any better than it was one year ago. But, I think it is. I reconnected with some old friends, I strengthened many friendships, and I made a few new friends as well. Sure, I’ve remained single throughout the year and I still have feelings of loneliness, but I also have a feeling of hope that I haven’t had in a very long time. Much like the job situation, I think I’m getting closer with each effort to change that. Each bit of discouragement here is discouraging me less, if that makes sense.

Last month I wrote about the races I ran in 2015 and how proud of my accomplishments I am. I ended 2014 not being able to complete a 5k in under 29 minutes. I ran 9 races in 2015 and only one was above 29, with a few of them being under 28 minutes, and my fastest being only 7.8 seconds away from 27 minutes. I have a pretty clear goal for 5k races in 2016.

In last year’s entry, I spoke about how I couldn’t get my weight under 200 pounds. I had been so close, but I was never able to make it there. I spent much of 2015 in the 195 range. In 2016 I want to stay (or get back) there and possibly get a little bit lower as well. I spent much of my life believing I couldn’t be in better shape, now I know I can. I also know I can be even better than I am. The mental “programming” I’ve spoken of in other entries is being changed little by little. Although, I’ve also learned (and quickly) that my metabolism is not great anymore and as soon as I slow down the workouts, my weight can go up quickly. I’ll be getting back to basics and working towards what I want to achieve.

While speaking of my programming. I did have my share of struggles with depression and anxiety during the year, but it wasn’t as bad as previous years had been. If nothing else, as I get older, I do get a little wiser and I am able to handle and manage my issues slightly better. I know I’ll continue to deal with this, and I’m sure I’ll have emotional setbacks. But, I’ll get through them.

One thing that was definitely a highlight for me in 2015 was the bond I developed with my nephew. It took a little while, but I’ve become one of his favorite people. I have trouble putting into words the feeling I get when I see him smile because he’s happy to see me. And of course, he has a little sister now as well, so yes, I have a niece now too. The overwhelming joy those two bring me is amazing. It’s things like this that motivate me.

As of today, December 31, 2015, there are only 186 days until my 40th birthday. That milestone looms over me almost like a really large black cloud. I felt I hadn’t done enough by the time I hit 30 years old. Now it’s almost 10 years later and I still feel that way. The difference now is that I feel I’m on the right track. I still don’t really know what the destination is, but I’m pretty sure that I’m heading there. Along the way,  I’m going to make mistakes. I’m going to have setback. I’m going to be disappointed. I’m going battle my depression. I also know that I can get stronger from all of that. I NEED to get stronger from all of that. I may not accomplish everything I want to, or need to, get done in 2016, but if I can look back in one year and again say I’m better off than I was, then I’m doing something right and I need to keep doing it

Bleach the Imperfections, Plating Them in Gold.

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About a week or so ago, a coworker asked me “How do you do it? How is it you say you’re depressed, yet you’re smiling so much and you seem happy?” I told him that I usually try to follow the lyrics to an Allman Brothers Band song and “leave my blues at home.” I also told him that sometimes the lyrics to an Arch Enemy song, “behind the smile, I feel nothing” is where I am. But, overall, I’m not in a bad place right now. Well, let me re-word that. I’ve been much worse. Where I am now certainly isn’t great.

I committed myself to writing at least one blog entry per month in 2015. If you’ll notice, many of my entries are later in the month, as I’ve never been too good with deadlines. The majority of what I write about deals with my ongoing struggle with depression, anxiety, and probably some other forms of mental illness that I haven’t even fully identified yet. Part of the reason this particular entry is so late in the month is really due to an issue of writer’s block that I’m dealing with. And it’s not that I don’t have something to say, it’s mostly due to me not feeling too bad lately.

I’ve documented my struggles with money. I’ve taken some steps to make that a little bit better, and so far it’s working. Part-time jobs on top of my full-time job are helping me out. Actually, I’ve recently accepted and left a job that I felt wasn’t working out for me. It’s nice to have a few options there for myself and so far, as I’ve said, it’s working.

I’ve also even seen an upswing in my social life lately. There’s actually hope where there didn’t seem to be. Of course, it’s not my nature to have too much hope in any circumstance. Naturally, I have my doubts, worries, and fears about all of this. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t.

This entry is absolutely not what I imagined writing. It’s so far from the way I started it too. It had a different title and a different name. The original draft had a much darker tone to it. There’s things that I was going to write about that didn’t fit with my current mood. And I probably will write about them at some point soon, but I’ll want to put significant thought into them before I do that.

It’s probably not a good thing that I fully expect my good mood to change at any time. I expect whatever good things I’m doing to crumble. I expect everything around me to fall back into the full despair I’m used to. There’s significant precedent for that. And you know what, it very well may happen that way, but for the time being, I’m going to do my best to enjoy the ride.

This Thought is All I Have to Trust Upon When Light is Gone.

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In an entry I wrote a while back I discussed having feelings of shame and fear that I’ve had for much of my life. I mentioned how I was “programmed” to have those feelings. But, where did that programming come from? There’s definitely been different sources of that programming, but in reality, a lot of it came directly from my parents. And, as I said a few times, this is not a “woe is me” post, this is me understanding things.

It basically goes back to the very beginning. Almost one year to the day after I was born, my parents and I moved to where I live now. And all I ever heard from my mother about where we lived was how much she disliked being here. She never wanted to be here and always talked about how much she wanted to leave. The part about her wanting to leave is actually more complicated than just her dislike of where she lived, but that’s for another time. The point I’m trying to make here is that I never once heard her say anything good about the town or state we lived in. I was programmed to dislike it and that lead to me being ashamed of it.

The upkeep of my house was neglected for years. My mom did various cleaning jobs during the week, but overall maintenance wasn’t done. Walls were dirty, paint is chipped, there’s cracks, not to mention dust and dirt. I kept hearing about how disgusting the house is and nobody should be allowed to be here. The result of that, I didn’t have many guests in my house. I was programmed to not like my house and programmed to be ashamed to have guests.

I know what you’re thinking about that last paragraph. Why didn’t I do more around the house to help keep up appearances? Well, there’s a story for that too. I can clearly remember many times as I child wanting to help with things. Even if it was helping to bring groceries into the house. Often I was told “you can help by getting out of the way” or something like “you can help by leaving.” That did a lot for my esteem. It programmed me to not get involved and to not know how to help, or even really offer any help.

As a child, I developed interests in Professional Wrestling, Star Wars, GI Joe, and a few other things that people start liking at a young age. And many of these interests stayed with me. Occasionally, my parents would take my sister and I to a wrestling event, but like most things my parents did with us,we did them a few times, and then we just didn’t do them again. Of course, I was also told my interest in these things was silly because those things were stupid or childish. Those comments didn’t stop. I was programmed to believe things I liked were not good, therefore I became ashamed of what I liked.

I never knew my parents to get along too well. Seeing them do things together was rare and it actually confused me. Let me make it very clear that them not getting along was mostly them doing all they could to avoid each other while living under the same roof. When they were in the same room, it would usually be an argument, or at least snide remarks back and forth. Holidays were always fun, especially with the two of them having different beliefs. Of course, neither of them practiced any beliefs or anything religious. The only times I ever heard anything religious discussed in the house was when they were arguing about it, mostly how the other one was wrong. What I’ve described in this paragraph programmed various negative traits in me. And believe me, their relationship is something that I could write multiple entries on. I’m sure it will come up again.

My dad does not express emotions. If I went to him with an issue I had with him, I would usually get a blank stare, a response that didn’t really suit the problem, or some of the most shrink worthy avoidance anyone has ever seen. If I went to my mom with an issue I had with her, I would usually be told that I was wrong, or that whatever my issue was simply didn’t matter. If I tell my dad that things he says bother me or offend me somehow, he’ll just keep doing it. I know there’s not a malicious thing there, it’s just that there’s no point to discussing things like that with him, even if the concept is to improve (or at least create) the relationship. If I went to my mom and told her that things she said or did bothered or offended me, she would either tell me I was wrong, or that she’s been holding back her true feelings on it and was “tired of walking on egg shells” around me. So how was I programmed here? I was programmed that it’s probably better to not discuss my feelings because if I do, I’m probably wrong anyway.

My bedroom was my sanctuary, but like it is for many children, it’s also the place you’re sent to when you’re being punished. You know, the old “go to your room” thing. Think of the dichotomy there. My safe place is my punishment place. How did this program me? Did it make me have contradictory feelings about same thing? Or did it just program me to be confused about this as I am as I’m writing it?

I feel that writing all of this is important for me. I’ve often felt that I’m just starting to scratch the surface of what my issues are and where they came from. What’s been said here is me talking about what’s bubbled up a little bit. But here’s the thing about this entry that I believe is the most important part about any of this. For all the people out there that may read this story or something similar from someone else and just brush it off with a “you’re 39 years old, get over it” attitude, let me tell you that I think this IS me getting over it, or at least me getting through it. I don’t know if I’ll ever be “over it.” But, I believe in order to achieve healing, I must first achieve understanding of what caused the issues to begin with. That way I can attempt to figure out how to deal with them in a positive way, especially since I still have to confront many of the causes on a daily basis.

All of these entries are about me getting better, they’re about me healing, and they’re about me moving forward. But, I believe I need to know not just where I’ve been, but I how I got there. Once I figure all of that out, I could be free to change the programming and go someplace better than where I’ve been stuck for so long, and finally be without so much fear and shame.