Tuesday, February 1, 2005

gravedigger.

I've come to the conclusion that my "depression" can be chalked up to laziness. After reading comment after comment on my last entry, it felt both equally inspiring as well as redundant, with the common thread of relatability. I'm beginning to see my theories on depression more clearly now; that we all have some degree of "mental illness," some more than others, in the sense of how we deal with it.

I've done the therapy thing, even in combo with different medicines. I've done the white padded walls of a psych ward. I've tried ending it all. I've done the cutting. But all to no avail. And sometimes I think there's a reason for that.

The reason is that I stand behind my own black pit of despair, shovel in hand, dirt underneath my fingertips.

All the advice I have ever recieved has been good. The personal stories beautiful. They're like that proverbial ray of sunshine through the storm. It's nice to know I'm not alone. (And I'm beginning to think those who do not go through this are the ones who are alone.) But I'm understanding now that no amount of advice can help me, until I put down that shovel. And let's face it, I've gotten pretty comfortable with it.

It's hard for me to see myself any other way. I've grown so accustomed in my cynical skins that it may be hard to give them up on the account of health. And what if I can't shed them? Will there always be a ghost to haunt me?

To all of you who commented, thank you. For once I didn't feel so unnoticed and insignificant.

And it's also good to know that there are good feelings out there too. And good people.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Sweetie...you aren't alone.  Not by a long shot.
I understand what you mean about that shovel.
We sometimes get so caught up in our own
depression, and shit, that we can't see the beauty
that surrounds us.  I'm guilty of that myself.
Big hugs to you!
Connie

Anonymous said...

You know that's what I've really come to love about this little "community."  We're able to pick and choose our neighbors, and there's always someone at home who knows exactly what we're saying and exactly what to say.  And when we need questions answered, like "what's the meaning of life" or "how in the freaking hell do I make freaking gingerbread men?" someone always has the answer.  Or they can fake it pretty well.

And I think you're right -- the ones who say they've lived a life without issues are the ones who are truly alone.  Or lying.

~~ jennifer

Anonymous said...

great entry... self-examination is a powerful tool. Thinking of you!! judi

Anonymous said...

In my life I have found that the people who said they had it all together were the ones who didn't. The ones always searching or sometimes hurting at the hands of others were the people in touch with reality. The answers that work for someone else don't work for me and vice versa. We just have to do the best we can and know that we are not alone. In J-Land people DO care. Nelle