I hate this. This has to be the worst part about depression. I am constantly making things worse for myself, life harder for myself, and sometimes it feels like I can’t stop. And people who don’t have depression don’t understand you’re struggling since they think you have total control over it. Well, according to this post from that resilient blog I linked earlier, it is.
She wrote down every way she was self-sabotaging herself and made an effort to keep those thoughts out.
I suppose I don’t keep those thoughts out as much as I try to stop thinking. Or I start arguing with it. Depression wins more than I’d like to admit, but perhaps if I wrote all the thoughts down ahead of time, I could stop looking at them as actual thoughts and more phrases or beliefs I’ve heard others say. I mean, it really does feel like I’m arguing with someone else half the time when these things come up. If it’s not me thinking them, if it’s not what I believe, then what do I care? They can think I’m shit for all I care; they aren’t me. They’re choices don’t affect my life on possible mind-blowing ways.
It’s a bit ironic. I’m afraid of failing but not at the same time. I’ve failed so much by my own hand it’s not so scary. Not much happens. Only if I’m failing me though. If I fail me then I don’t care but if I fail someone else it’s gut-wrenching. How do you start caring about failing yourself when not much has ever happened when you do?
…. I feel like there’s something there… something has happened and I just glance over it… maybe I should write a list about that.
This article showed up on my Pinterest and it got me thinking a bit. It was about how we view our depression and perhaps changing the words we use concerning it. Like saying we’re “fighting depression.” Fighting is exhausting… and it’s not like we’re going to win. Sure, the drugs help a lot but there can be bad days. That would make this a war with a battle everyday. That sounds accurate enough but what if we took a different approach? What if we dealt with it as we would any other illness, or perhaps, how we should deal with other illnesses. I know parents don’t get sick days, and even those who aren’t parents continue to go to work. I believe, correct me if I’m wrong, you’re supposed to listen to your body and do what it’s telling you. If it’s exhausted, take a nap. If you feel like you’re going to throw up, stop eating that thing (or drinking)!
When I was fifteen I cut myself. Well, I called it “clawing” because I never bled and sometimes used my nails. I typically used a hair-clip like the one in the photo. Anyway, once the red marks started sticking around longer and I realized someone might find out I started trying to understand what was triggering this compulsion. I started paying more attention to what I was thinking and feeling and when these were occurring, which is kind of what she says in the post.
Although I agree ‘fight’ might not be the right word, I don’t think ‘making peace’ is either. My new medication is finally working and I have no problems going outside or doing what I need to do anymore. Have I made peace with my depression? No… I still hate it. I wouldn’t say I’ve accepted it either. I just deal with it when it arises and otherwise forget about it. Is there a better way to put that?