5. I gave up on happiness. Or, I found something different and started calling it happiness.
I remember, while going through therapy, that one of my biggest concerns was that now that my childhood days were over, that I would never be happy, in the carefree, completely lost in the moment, without any self-consciousness sort of way. It was like the magic in the world had vanished. Or that every single magic trick had now been explained to me.
Here’s the crappy thing: It has never returned. I really think that it is gone forever. But there are still pleasant emotions. I like laughing, even if it is when I am having a bad day. It seems like every good emotion has some bitterness mixed into it now. I guess that’s kind of sad, but sometimes there is still more sweet than bitter. And then sometimes bitter things can be sweet, like a sad movie that can make me cry but still be beautiful. Or when I know I am seeing a friend for the last time because he or she is moving, and it hurts, but I know that it hurts because of all of the good memories with that person.
I used to like eating spoonfuls of pure white sugar when I was kid, but now I think that is gross. There needs to be something else mixed in. Some of my favorite drinks are Ginger Beer, which is sweet but burns my throat as it goes down. Bitter Lemon, which I have to drink slowly because of its bitterness, but which I keep on drinking, and unsweetened herbal tea, which is completely bland unless I concentrate on all of the different weak flavors in it. I didn’t used to like any of these drinks. Sadly, I no longer like pure white sugar.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Sunday, August 30, 2009
A Journey (Part 4)
4. Other people.
This is a more recent development. Although I have always liked performing for or competing with others, I think it was on my mission that I started to realize how interesting other people can be. Since returning home I have been more talkative, but initially only with superficial topics.
While my sister and I were both experiencing the different emotions associated with dating, we started talking more deeply with each other. My brother was all but left out of these discussions because he married his high school girlfriend. Then, through spending time with some close friends and some new friends, I started talking to them about serious things. When I was twenty two I finally had what one might call an exclusive relationship for the first time ever. I realized how difficult it could be to communicate with someone that I was dating.
And it continued to be difficult. I felt like the only serious conversation I could have with a girl was the breakup one, with an occasional serious moment in more casual conversations. Eventually I dated this one very unique girl who just told me absolutely every thought that she was having. It was disarming and the only thing I could do in return was spill some of my secret thoughts back at her. I realized that you can say some really personal things and people are generally supportive. The only disadvantage is it tends to move things along faster than they might have otherwise, and you end up breaking up sooner. At least I think so, because she and I didn’t last too long.
Anyway, while I still have trouble sharing my grief with other people sometimes, I do it much more often than I used to, and rather than see it as being “needy” (which I guess it kind of is), I see it as necessary and I try to be available for others when they need someone to spend the time and energy needed to listen to them.
I cannot express how important I think it is to talk to and be with and understand other people. When my parents split up, I remember feeling like I was going to throw up if I didn’t talk about it.
I found help in unlikely places. One friend who I had always seen as obtuse and difficult to talk to at times, when he heard what had happened, in a matter of seconds, transformed into someone who listened and understood. It was the first serious conversation I had had with him, and I never expected him to suddenly be so open.
Then another friend, who I had known much longer and talked with much more, was the opposite. I was on a trip with him in a foreign country and couldn’t talk to anyone else. But when I brought it up he seemed to shut off and got very uncomfortable. He became silent, didn’t look at me, and didn’t ask any clarification or follow-up questions. It was disappointing and a little embarrassing. The difference between these two friends was that the first one had experienced his own parents’ divorce and the other one could not even imagine such an event. So I think it is important to seek out those who have been through similar challenges. They will understand.
Part 5
This is a more recent development. Although I have always liked performing for or competing with others, I think it was on my mission that I started to realize how interesting other people can be. Since returning home I have been more talkative, but initially only with superficial topics.
While my sister and I were both experiencing the different emotions associated with dating, we started talking more deeply with each other. My brother was all but left out of these discussions because he married his high school girlfriend. Then, through spending time with some close friends and some new friends, I started talking to them about serious things. When I was twenty two I finally had what one might call an exclusive relationship for the first time ever. I realized how difficult it could be to communicate with someone that I was dating.
And it continued to be difficult. I felt like the only serious conversation I could have with a girl was the breakup one, with an occasional serious moment in more casual conversations. Eventually I dated this one very unique girl who just told me absolutely every thought that she was having. It was disarming and the only thing I could do in return was spill some of my secret thoughts back at her. I realized that you can say some really personal things and people are generally supportive. The only disadvantage is it tends to move things along faster than they might have otherwise, and you end up breaking up sooner. At least I think so, because she and I didn’t last too long.
Anyway, while I still have trouble sharing my grief with other people sometimes, I do it much more often than I used to, and rather than see it as being “needy” (which I guess it kind of is), I see it as necessary and I try to be available for others when they need someone to spend the time and energy needed to listen to them.
I cannot express how important I think it is to talk to and be with and understand other people. When my parents split up, I remember feeling like I was going to throw up if I didn’t talk about it.
I found help in unlikely places. One friend who I had always seen as obtuse and difficult to talk to at times, when he heard what had happened, in a matter of seconds, transformed into someone who listened and understood. It was the first serious conversation I had had with him, and I never expected him to suddenly be so open.
Then another friend, who I had known much longer and talked with much more, was the opposite. I was on a trip with him in a foreign country and couldn’t talk to anyone else. But when I brought it up he seemed to shut off and got very uncomfortable. He became silent, didn’t look at me, and didn’t ask any clarification or follow-up questions. It was disappointing and a little embarrassing. The difference between these two friends was that the first one had experienced his own parents’ divorce and the other one could not even imagine such an event. So I think it is important to seek out those who have been through similar challenges. They will understand.
Part 5
Saturday, August 29, 2009
A Journey (Part 3)
3. “Life is hard”.
Everyone knows that life is hard, but I think it was important for me to recognize the difference between “Life is hard” and “My life is hard”. The first statement links our difficulty and hardships with those of others as part of the human condition. It gives meaning to the suffering and creates compassion in us. The second alienates, sets us apart, and reinforces the incorrect thought that since our suffering is unique or worse than other people’s, that we don’t fit in with them.
Part 4
Everyone knows that life is hard, but I think it was important for me to recognize the difference between “Life is hard” and “My life is hard”. The first statement links our difficulty and hardships with those of others as part of the human condition. It gives meaning to the suffering and creates compassion in us. The second alienates, sets us apart, and reinforces the incorrect thought that since our suffering is unique or worse than other people’s, that we don’t fit in with them.
Part 4
Friday, August 28, 2009
A Journey (Part 2)
2. I started noticing progress.
When I compare today to my lowest points of being depressed, the difference is stark. Back then I felt like the world was empty and that while I had every opportunity I could want, pursuing any of those opportunities would inevitably lead to boredom and more depression.
When I am sad nowadays there is a sting of depression in it, because it reminds me of all of the large amount of my life that I have spent sad or depressed. Since that is all I can remember, it becomes overrepresented in my mind, and it seems like I am sad much more of the time than I really am. This still happens whenever I get down for longer than a few hours, and I think, “why is life so hard?”
Even in those ruts, though, I can recognize the difference between now and years ago. I have tried, but cannot pinpoint when I was first able to recognize this, which makes me believe even more that not only was it a gradual process rather than an event, but also that recognizing it as such is an important part of the process itself.
Part 3
When I compare today to my lowest points of being depressed, the difference is stark. Back then I felt like the world was empty and that while I had every opportunity I could want, pursuing any of those opportunities would inevitably lead to boredom and more depression.
When I am sad nowadays there is a sting of depression in it, because it reminds me of all of the large amount of my life that I have spent sad or depressed. Since that is all I can remember, it becomes overrepresented in my mind, and it seems like I am sad much more of the time than I really am. This still happens whenever I get down for longer than a few hours, and I think, “why is life so hard?”
Even in those ruts, though, I can recognize the difference between now and years ago. I have tried, but cannot pinpoint when I was first able to recognize this, which makes me believe even more that not only was it a gradual process rather than an event, but also that recognizing it as such is an important part of the process itself.
Part 3
Thursday, August 27, 2009
A Journey (Part 1)
Recently I told a friend that I had been treated for depression and she asked, "How did you overcome it?"
I gave her a rather inaccurate answer. I said that I had gotten tired of worrying about everything, so I stopped. Over the next few days I realized the answer I had given was wrong, or at the very least grossly incomplete. I told her about my mistake and realized that I couldn't really give an easy answer to her question.
Over the last two days, I have been thinking about the answer and doing my best to write it down. What resulted is the next eight (at least) posts that you will read on this blog, and they are more of a reflection on the question than an answer. As you will see, I don't really know the answer; all I have are suspicions. So here we go.
"How did you overcome your depression?"
1. I got tired of thinking about it.
What I meant when I said this originally was that I slowly got more and more sick of asking myself if I was happy or not. It consumed so much of my time and energy that I sort of started to do it less and less. I think that a great source of my depression was the fact that I would worry and feel guilty about the fact that I could be depressed when I had everything in life going for me. Eventually when I was depressed I would just let myself sit there and be depressed, and I think that helped the guilt go away.
When I gave this as a reason, my friend replied: “So it just lifted.”
I guess, but it happened over a period of months and, I suppose, years. I wouldn’t say that it just lifted, but rather that it very slowly and imperceptibly dissipated. Mostly anyway.
Part 2
I gave her a rather inaccurate answer. I said that I had gotten tired of worrying about everything, so I stopped. Over the next few days I realized the answer I had given was wrong, or at the very least grossly incomplete. I told her about my mistake and realized that I couldn't really give an easy answer to her question.
Over the last two days, I have been thinking about the answer and doing my best to write it down. What resulted is the next eight (at least) posts that you will read on this blog, and they are more of a reflection on the question than an answer. As you will see, I don't really know the answer; all I have are suspicions. So here we go.
"How did you overcome your depression?"
1. I got tired of thinking about it.
What I meant when I said this originally was that I slowly got more and more sick of asking myself if I was happy or not. It consumed so much of my time and energy that I sort of started to do it less and less. I think that a great source of my depression was the fact that I would worry and feel guilty about the fact that I could be depressed when I had everything in life going for me. Eventually when I was depressed I would just let myself sit there and be depressed, and I think that helped the guilt go away.
When I gave this as a reason, my friend replied: “So it just lifted.”
I guess, but it happened over a period of months and, I suppose, years. I wouldn’t say that it just lifted, but rather that it very slowly and imperceptibly dissipated. Mostly anyway.
Part 2
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