There is no cure

But there might be cures.

Like I said in a Facebook comment today, I have been doing my best to concentrate on all the little physical things that can lead to my feeling depressed.

This is recent. I woke up from a nap at 4:30 in the afternoon (yup, another sleepy type day, though not nearly as unpleasant) and I felt awful. I felt like I had this heavy weight pushing on me from all sides and weighing me down. I felt constantly on the verge of tears and I was confused, disoriented, and of course, very depressed.

And I thought about just collapsing and letting depression have its way with me, but then another voice, the new strong voice, said “No! We do not have to simply accept being depressed! We can fight it!”.

Or something like that. I wasn’t taking dictation at the time.

So I crawled out of bed and got myself a nice big glass of water and sat down in front of the computer and slowly hydrated myself while I did my usual online type stuff. I also made a point of doing some deep breathing exercises in case it was the aftereffects of sleep apnea that were getting me down.

In addition, I checked nose and ears for blockages, in case it was a sinus thing. I have learned from bitter experience that clogged ears means my sinuses are all filled up and the fluid had no place to go but my ears, and then even THAT clogged up. And that can lead to all kinds of nastiness. Sinus headache is only one of them.

And as a result of these actions, I managed to pull myself out of the depths. I didn’t exactly inflate myself with the light of joy, but I went from feeling horrible to being on the lower end of okay.

This is a big change for me. I have always treated my mood like the weather. Something I can adapt to or protect myself from as best I can, but not something I can change through my actions.

But today proved that it is possible for me to boost my own mood via self-care, and that is a sea change for me. It’s still not going to be easy, but at least I have some kind of chance of winning the war against the darkness. I can beat it into submission by fighting as many of the physical contributing factors as I can.

I can give myself hope.

And a big part of me doesn’t like that. To this part of my diseased mind, hope equals disappointment. It also potentially leads to action, and that part of me doesn’t ever want to do anything except the high reward activities to which it has become accustomed. It tries to veto absolutely everything that seems like work.

What a retarded, sick, useless way to look at the world. Time to kill it.

As always, anger is my pilot light. The anger I feel from all the unexpressed rage and pain of my life and the anger I feel towards my depression for everything it has taken from me makes an excellent spark to keep the flame of hope lit. Whenever I feel myself wavering and on the edge of slipping back into the old, bad ways, I can reach deep down inside myself for that primal identity rage and use it to get shit going again.

It will not be an instant or an easy transition. The enemy still occupies far more mental land than the good guys. And it has been there more than long enough to fortify its position.

But the forces of the Light have righteous fire on their side and a burning desire for victory at any cost. Like I have said many times before, there is nothing within me that I would not sacrifice if it was between me and the clean fresh air of sanity.

I have been buried within myself for far too long. I want to break free.

No, I’m not going to insert a link to the video.

The image that keeps popping into my head is of me violently pushing depression away. Like it’s a statue that fell on me, and I have to stand up and push it over in order to free myself of its crushing weight.

I mean, FUCK YOU, depression. You are not my friend and you never were. You are a base, foul, unworthy entity infecting my brain with your icy touch and dread weights and poisonous advice. It’s you who whispers “why bother?” in my ear, and you even have the gall to make me feel clever when I avoid all action. Like I have cleverly out-thought the world.

BullSHIT I have. There was no thought involved, just instinct. If you’re so damned clever, why does your life suck? You haven’t avoided work. You’ve avoided LIFE, and all the things out there that might make you happy, god dammit.

I swear, I am developing an Inner Drill Sargent. Someone of will and strength and determination, who says things to me like “Nobody asked how you FEEL about it” and “Yeah it sucks. Do it anyway!” and “You can do better than that!.

Sounds horrible, but I know that voice is on my side and sincerely wants to see me stronger, better, and above all happier because I don’t fear the world any more and I know I can tackle anything.

To me, the best part of the whole basic training experience would be the self-confidence you get from both having done it and survived, and from the way such an extreme experience would just burn away all the useless crap in your mind and leave you more whole, pure, and strong both inside and out.

Were I a younger man, I could actually imagine joining the military for purely selfish reasons.

As is, it would take me a while to build myself up to the point where I could even go to one of those “boot camps”.

Anyhow, that’s my words for today.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.