I truly applaud anyone who can maintain even just a fraction of themselves when battling depression. Just watched this video of a lady on her YouTube channel talking about how it’s been tough on her recently and she’s been feeling like she’s uncertain of who she is anymore. I gotta give it to her though, she looks so put together & preppy, at least from my frontal view of her… But even on a general note, it’s mad impressive how anyone who’s self aware of their depression could have the ability to maintain themselves with acts as simple as having their hair done or having make up on & dressing up. As for other cases, like myself, I can hardly gather myself enough to take a shower on most days, let alone worry about my hair. I’ve not looked ‘picture perfect’ for myself or anyone else for about four months now. I’m what you’d call a slob and honestly, I’ve got no motivation to change that. I think it’s enough that I get to have to live through each day only to have it repeat itself on the very next day. That’s all the motivation I got, at least for now it’s all the motivation I need.I’d take breaking down & crumbling over whatever it is I’m feeling right now. Maybe finally breaking would force out my recovery process . I’d take breaking down over this void feeling inside me. I can feel every little inch of me die a little each day. The unsettling feeling in my gut that just won’t let me live enough to have the will to fight. I’m not entirely sure what I’m fighting for anymore. That’s just the battle, fighting against myself over a person I’m no longer sure I recognize anymore.But maybe there’s hope.. Even though I may not fully see it now, I’ll fight to feel it. I’ve been off therapy for a month now cause I traveled home. I know I need to get back on the therapy wagon therefore I called my therapist earlier today and she gave me the small glimmer of hope I’m feeling right now. I suppose her reassurance that she’s still with me through this was well needed and I’m grateful for it. I’ve not felt reassured over anything for a while now therefore I relish the new found feeling. I wish I had the right words to explain to anyone how hard it is to see hope when all there is around you is darkness. I envy those who’ve gone through depression & mental struggles and have stood up to say they beat it. I can only assume it took effort to get to such a position. I compromise myself a lot when it comes to having any kind of hope over anything in my life. Truth be told, I beat myself down more than any depression does.I’m a compilation of zero to no self esteem which when I think about, has been me for all my life. I don’t know what it’d be like to stare at myself in the mirror & truly appreciate the reflection staring back at me. I have always subconsciously been aware that my effort to stand out to anyone or even to myself has been on a bare minimum. I’ve always been okay being at the back & hidden from the world cause it’s always felt safer for me. I’ve always been behind this wall where letting anyone in has always been close to impossible. It’s not until recently that I got to learn that I shouldn’t be comfortable being in the back hiding. My therapist brought it to my attention that there could be a lot more of myself that I haven’t given the chance to exist. A lot more that could mean better & greater than all I have ever been and known. Maybe despite everything, I still have a shot at more than just being alive.

4 thoughts on “Unsettling Hope..

  1. Imagine you wake up one morning (or afternoon), feeling as you usually do, but don’t recall that “the world”, your therapist, and you yourself, told you you are in a depression. What would you call it?

  2. While on the road to the supermarket, I gave it some thought. In my life I never felt attracted to any group, society, country, organization, ideology, or what have you. Of course I was told many times this wasn’t right, and should change that, For instance, my parents enrolled me in a boy scout group. Result? I was kicked out after two days participating. And so it went on. I did make me feel bad, even guilty. Why I asked myself? Answer: I was living in an environment with norms, values, convictions, rules, and laws, I felt no chemistry with. Still they were forced down my throat. Still I had to live in it. Indoctrinated with all that, it gave me feelings guilt, sadness, rebellion, anger, and hopelessness. Above all this, Abrahamic religions told me I was a sinner, who had done wrong, and who should feel guilty indeed. Asking questions about this, was met with anger, disapproval, rejection, and punishment. That’s how I grew up. Blaming myself that I didn’t fit in. Self-esteem down the drain. That something must be wrong with me. And people agreed. I should blame myself indeed. Feeling guilty and bad? It was all my fault. It was me who refused to adapt to their world, the only right and good one there was.

    As time went by, I resisted more and more, became a cynic with a kind of sarcasm not often seen on Earth. Slowly but surely, though, my aggression was not only directed anymore at myself, but also at these so called authority figures who had taken it upon themselves to tell me how to live. It made life more acceptable. I found ways to express my inner world that soothed my anger and put out fires I didn’t want to burn. Still, it didn’t make me, as my late wife said, a happy camper. The outside pressure was too strong. However, at least it made me feel less bad/guilty about how I stood in the world. I also became one who made fun of those in power positions, making their life even more miserable, boring, and worthless than it already was. Kind of a self-defense I think. They hated me for it.

    All this comes down to one observation: People put a label on you. And when you’re not behaving as they think you should behave, that label often tells you something must be wrong with you. That’s what therapists do too. They diagnose you with having a disorder, even a combination of disorders, leaving you with the idea that you have to do something about it. In urban language: Shape up. Change your shit, act normal, and start doing what we all are doing. And due to what I wrote above, you believe them, even when in your heart you disagree with them. That’s what the pressure of the majority and so called professionals does to a person. I don’t want to fall for that crap, even now that Lucitta is dead and I feel abandoned and rotten as never before in my life, I don’t want to give in to their demands, to belong to them, and to seek refuge with them. It’s hard to be like that. Sometimes I’m getting weak, want to give up, and walk to the other side, to be with them, to be part of their world. But then I remember the words of Jiddu Krishnamurti:.”It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society.”

    Damn, now I almost wrote a blog in you blog 😛

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