Monthly Archives: December 2014

On Depression as a Matter of Belief

On Depression as a Matter of Belief

Depression is a matter of belief.  Belief that all your worst fears will come true and that you are powerless to do anything to stop the ship from sinking.  Your future is played in your mind-screen as a projection where all the negatives from your current situation are amplified.  No thought is given that things won’t get that bad.  It is a survival mechanism gone faulty.  True we need to know what seedlings will grow into something poisonous, but not everything is bad.  Depression lays with superstition in that it needs no evidence, not display of physical law to prove that the future is unpredictable.   It is evil in the sense that it relies on the great unknown as proof of one’s powerlessness.

“How could I, a single human, fight the great unknown?” I ask myself in despair.  My first response is to shine light on the unknown and then know it.  But the unknowns are infinite in number and strength.  The process of getting to know an unknown leads to the discovery of more and more unknowns.  The never ending chase leads to exhaustion and then more reliance on depression’s comfortable embrace for sustenance to one’s self feeling good enough again before plunging back down into its depths.

Only once depression subsides (or it lets me take a break) do I get to a point where I can reflect on it as if it were one single packet of time.  Seeing depression for what it is helps me to combat it every time, but each new spring leads eventually to a new winter.  Feeling better just makes me wonder what darkness I will have to combat with in the future.  So I scan my environment, on edge waiting for my next trigger.  Picking up signals and using my imagination, as I walk along the streets I project what an evil seed would look like if it were to grow into a full sized monster.  Then suddenly, I am there again, forecasting my future using my everyday routine as a mechanism to prove that my worst fears will one day come true.  Not only do I waste all my time worrying about all the things that will never happen to me, I feel my hopes and dream ly in that same category as fantasies that I can never achieve.

Depression inverts fears and dreams.  It makes me believe my fears will come true and my desires won’t, even though there is simply no way of knowing what will happen.

On Depression

On Depression

Depression, the emotional memory aggregator, seeps in slowly through every tiny crack in my life.  At first its just a bad decision, like taking a cab when the bus was 1/4 of the price.  From there it builds.   Though I’m still maintaining happiness most of the time, I begin to notice that things just don’t go right here and there.  There is still enough going well that I don’t realize I’ve been captured and well on the dissent.

I start second guessing myself out of a vague feeling that I’ve been wrong a bit too much lately.  Then Indecision creeps in under my nose followed by his best pals: Confusion and Doubt.   The Depression Gang’s whispers and mockery between my ears get louder and louder as they dig through my memory files.  One by one they pull out all the photos they’ve taken of themselves during my life time.  Like parasites, they high-jack my eyes and ears to match their horrid memories to my outer world.  I see strangers with characteristics of all the people I’ve ever disliked in any way, actors on screen resemble friends who pushed me away, song lyrics stab at my heart with remembrance of precious people I’ve lost, and any misstep a reminder of anything I’ve ever set out for and failed to achieve.

In defense, my boundaries and walls strengthen with hot showers, funny movies, and positive meditations.  To draw me out, they tease me like I’m a hungry puppy and they have beef jerky.  They allow me to walk just up to the gates of my goals, so I can see what’s on the other side then slam the gates in my face. Licking my wounds, I try another gate, only to be once again denied and made to feel a failure.  After a while, I don’t see the gate keepers as real people, instead I see the evil possessing them; like puppet masters, pulling strings to make my life as teasingly miserable by using as many people around me as they can.

The process repeats all while their memory attacks increase.  I begin to see a pattern and the problem, I begin to believe, is me.  The world doesn’t like me and as proof, the memory movie of all the negative events of my life is now playing on repeat.  It won’t stop playing.  I can press pause and get relief through positive interactions that have nothing to do with my main goal

I can buy happiness, through hobbies and nice meals with friends, but the world won’t pay me happiness.  Not with depression around my neck.  He has convinced me of my unworthiness and I begin to simply believe it.  I give in and angrily take the meager scraps he has to offer.  But he will still make me wait, make me jump through hoops and hurdles all because I need something and am working hard to obtain it.

As my walls and boundaries erode, I fall back into the indebted world.  The light at the end of the tunnel above me gets smaller and smaller as Depression makes me wait until he says its time for me to climb myself back up to the normal world.