Fuck It.
"Self," I thought to myself this morning, "you ought to not bother posting today. Take a little break. You're depressed, and who wants to keep hear about how you have your fits of depression, really?"
And then I thought: I do. I want to hear about it. I want to write about it. I want to better understand it, even if understanding it doesn't mean that I can change it much, or keep it from happening, or...whatever.
So here's the story: Late Friday night, it hit me, and it hasn't really gone away. I had some hours of relief hanging out with Jessie, Kareem and chasing my nephew around as he did one of the things that makes him happier than anything in the world--pushing around a little four-wheeled thingie. Pushing it down the sidewalk. Up driveways. And back again. And then back again and again. For. Ever. My jealousy for the little guy's ability to find joy is riding at an all-time high.
And then, the blue mood just...stuck. All weekend. And it's with me still. And, right along with the normal script, I've got a sore throat and a bit of a cold, I think. But mostly I just put my head down, try to ride it out, try not to start crying at the drop of a hat, and wait for it to go away. Because it always does.
And that's the weird thing--I'm no longer worried that it won't go away. Much. It will go away, if history proves anything. But I still have a very hard time letting go of the 'why' question. Why does it come at all? What can I do differently so that I won't hit these blue patches? If I don't start doing something differently, will they come more often and stronger? (And then...what if one day it doesn't go away?) It's weird, to know, from history, that this will pass, and, again from history, that there's not much more I can do about it--at least it seems to be that way, when I'm in it and when I'm out of it. The weird part is knowing, but not being able to do anything about it.
Which isn't true, either. I can do something about it. I can put my head down and ride it out. I can cultivate habits (like exercising) which will help me whether I'm blue or not. But, it seems, I can't stop wondering what else I might do, and if I maybe could make this stop, full stop, someday.
Probably light blogging the next few days...
Filed under:Therapy
"Self," I thought to myself this morning, "you ought to not bother posting today. Take a little break. You're depressed, and who wants to keep hear about how you have your fits of depression, really?"
And then I thought: I do. I want to hear about it. I want to write about it. I want to better understand it, even if understanding it doesn't mean that I can change it much, or keep it from happening, or...whatever.
So here's the story: Late Friday night, it hit me, and it hasn't really gone away. I had some hours of relief hanging out with Jessie, Kareem and chasing my nephew around as he did one of the things that makes him happier than anything in the world--pushing around a little four-wheeled thingie. Pushing it down the sidewalk. Up driveways. And back again. And then back again and again. For. Ever. My jealousy for the little guy's ability to find joy is riding at an all-time high.
And then, the blue mood just...stuck. All weekend. And it's with me still. And, right along with the normal script, I've got a sore throat and a bit of a cold, I think. But mostly I just put my head down, try to ride it out, try not to start crying at the drop of a hat, and wait for it to go away. Because it always does.
And that's the weird thing--I'm no longer worried that it won't go away. Much. It will go away, if history proves anything. But I still have a very hard time letting go of the 'why' question. Why does it come at all? What can I do differently so that I won't hit these blue patches? If I don't start doing something differently, will they come more often and stronger? (And then...what if one day it doesn't go away?) It's weird, to know, from history, that this will pass, and, again from history, that there's not much more I can do about it--at least it seems to be that way, when I'm in it and when I'm out of it. The weird part is knowing, but not being able to do anything about it.
Which isn't true, either. I can do something about it. I can put my head down and ride it out. I can cultivate habits (like exercising) which will help me whether I'm blue or not. But, it seems, I can't stop wondering what else I might do, and if I maybe could make this stop, full stop, someday.
Probably light blogging the next few days...
Filed under:Therapy
posted by Jeff Pollet at 7:49 AM
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