I like to say “you all” as though I have this giant following, when really I’m shocked when I get the odd random comment from people I don’t actually know. Take this also as an apology to the people I’ve ignored or just stopped responding to.
You might remember me from such vaunted tales as “Stink Toe” and “Cat Coat” (OK, technically Cat Coat was more of a plan than a tale.) I mean, you probably don’t… but you might, right? Anything’s possible. Especially when you’re crazy.
Well, enough avoiding the subject.
I have severe depression. Well, actually I’m bi-polar, but for the last 2 years, it’s been almost straight depression phase. This basically means that for the past 2 years I’ve had no desire to do anything, saw no point in anything and gave few shits about anything all while feeling paralyzingly guilty about everything. And technically speaking I’m bi-polar II. This means that I get all of the depression but I thankfully escape the manic episodes for the most part.
Instead I get what is called “hypomania” and for the most part it’s a great thing. It makes me happy, confident and energetic. I do things, I make things, I’m awesome in my own eyes. Of course it does have it’s downsides; Manic Me makes promises; promises that Depressed Me cannot fulfill. Without taking that fact into consideration. And it ramps my insomnia into over-drive. CAN’T SLEEP GOTTA MAKE SHIT! WHY ARE WE IN BED…. WE COULD BE MAKING THIS AND THIS AND THAT! Unfortunately until recently I haven’t had many of these episodes and the ones I have gotten have been barely discernable. It also likes to spend money on stupid things and have ideas run through my head at about a 1000 words a second.
To make things even more fun, I also suffer from severe anxiety. Over the simplest of things. Email… phone calls… stupidly simple things. You know that extreme sinking sensation in the pit of your stomach when you KNOW you’re about to get bad news? When you realize things are just about to go terribly terribly wrong and you KNOW you can’t stop it despite wanting nothing more than to do so? And so you freeze because your brain is stuck in an “Every choice is futile, so every choice is equal, so how do I choose what to do?” loop… That is how I feel when the phone rings.
It is something I’ve fought with my entire life. I finally got treatment in my early twenties, and while it certainly didn’t alleviate it entirely, it did help immensely. It’s like putting on glasses after unknowingly living with poor eyesight your whole life. And then I stopped being able to afford treatment and by the time I could again, I was deeper in it’s thrall than I’d ever been in the past.
It is so hard to escape that “What if it’s all in my head?” trap when you’re not medicated. You fight against an imbalance that you cannot control. One that takes away your ability to be rational and then weakens your ability to even detect that loss. it’s like trying to take down a concrete wall with just your hands, and telling yourself that using a sledgehammer is cheating.
I am trying to be around more, to write more, to do more. I feel silly doing it in public like this. I feel bad for not keeping up with my blog, for not writing more posts, as if I owe it to some outside agency. Then I feel like a douchebag for thinking my writing is important enough to consider it a “duty” of sorts. Then I start to laugh at myself, because… well look at this shit.
I can’t say I’ll be back and right up to par. Whatever par is. I suppose it’s what I consider my optimal operation status. For so long I never bothered because even optimal for me is shitty for others… but how silly is that? Don’t be better because you can’t be best? Irrationality at its finest. And of course, what is optimal for some others would be shitty for me.