After divulging all the feelings trapped inside of me in my last post, I felt like I took a mental dump the size of Mars. For some inexplicit reason, more than ever, I HAD to shove all my stuff out to the universe and get It the fuck out of me or I was going to continue being paralyzed by my yuck.
I received some emails that brought tears to my eyes knowing that in some small way I made someone feel comfort and a sense of acceptance with my words. I know the power depressions’ grip can have and It takes a fuck ton of strength to reach out and be open with another person. Those actions poked an ember in my soul that I could not ignore.
While writing, I felt as though I was being articulate as to what goes through my mind during an unusually dark time for me and how I live with depression that visits me from time to time. I did so with the intent to shed light on the topic, to bring a voice to it, and ideally provide a smidge of solace during a lonely time in someone else’s life. I was opening my soul up in such an uncomfortable and raw way because I knew that I would begin restoring my spirit in some form. I felt like a ton of bricks had been lifted from my psyche when I completed that entry and I KNEW it was what I needed to do for myself and to possibly help someone else.
That blogs objective was to “pull back the curtain” on the twisted and topical vantage points we are viewed from or at. To possibly point out that none of us really know what is going on behind closed doors or minds of anyone dealing with any sort of challenges or depression. People don’t always look depressed when they are dealing with it, they don’t always act sad when they are crumbling inside, and they sure as shit don’t always feel depressed.Just look at social media. Of course, everyone is indeed different. Personally, my depression can come on as fast as a light switch, but usually stems from feeling detached from a support system or facing complete uncertainty. When all that negative energy clumps together inside a usually social, funny and positive person, all hell breaks loose on my spirit, and it is near impossible to see the light when I cannot seem to get my head out of the yuck.
“Do something about it” or “toughen up” would perhaps be many folk’s response to someone in a “funk” and both of those responses were given to me after my last post. Apparently, they read the entry as though I was venting about the trials and tribulations of growing pains in a new city. That it was “hard” to be strong during my situation, and some responses threw me for a loop, I gotta say. I felt like I was being concise and clear by opening up my fucking gut in such an uncomfortable way for me by admitting the fact that I have suffered from depression and anxiety for decades. Sure, this move to NV has morphed into the complete unknown for me and is tough to navigate, don’t get me wrong, but that’s par for the course I’d think with moves that never had a definitive objective in the first place. My goal was to explain how paralyzing depression or anxiety can be and at times uncontrollable to some. In my case it slapped me the face and the fear of simply asking for help and feeling misunderstood once again was enough to hold me firmly down.
Sharing that I was tired of always being strong was to let people know that even though I seem to do things with vigor and share it at a high volume, does not mean that I have it together inside, or any which where. I am generally freaking out mentally with insecurity and anxiety 80% of my day. When I say that I can barely leave the house at times, I fucking mean it. This seasonal shift of daylight doesn’t really put a kick in my step either, but fuck, what am I gonna do besides turn on my Happy Light from Costco and hope for the best, right?
Look, I have shit, you have shit, we have shit, and each of us processes our shit a LOT differently than the other. You may cope with your yuck by consuming alcohol, smoking weed, eating enough for an army, or perhaps you choose to not feel the yuck. Some of you may meditate, push through that shit and simply persevere. Since we only know what we know and may not have the same coping mechanisms or biology as other’s, it is difficult to understand why one can’t just see the light at the end of the tunnel. Our unique chemistry steers us in all sorts of kooky ways and our feelings may seem out of our control. Fortunately, writing has been a savior to me, and when I do share it with other humans it is just SO fucking fabulous to hear that I made someone feel understood, you really have no idea what that means to me. THAT is what I need in my belly and in my soul. To know that I have made a positive impact somehow, if even for a tiny moment. That feeds the fire and light in my chest and is what I live my life for. That fire and drive has eluded me, and I must figure out how to get it back to where it is meant to be, and I will. It’s always found its way back to me in the past, this time around it just happens to be a real stubborn son of a bitch and taking its sweet ass time.
I really want to make it clear that if you are struggling to ignore or perhaps demolish your own yuck, you are not even remotely close to being alone in that fight. I wish, with every bone in my body, for you to move forward in any direction you need to in order to find your truth and happiness again. I will be doing the work too. Seeking beauty and love above all else in hope that it will be truly felt inside, not just spoken about. Let’s try to manifest the positivity to outshine any darkness that tries to creep its ugly ass our way, because WE deserve all the goodness, and the darkness needs a good ol' fashion beat down.