Sometimes your mind goes in too many different directions and sometimes it is at a stand still and can’t seem to go in any direction at all. That’s anxiety and depression. In today’s age we have so many arguments about those diagnoses. Are they being over diagnosed? Are they not a disease, but an excuse? Are they caused by society or brain chemicals or maybe a bad background? So much debate.
But the biggest thing I hear is everyone has it. Maybe. Maybe we all feel that crippling feeling of not being able to move… for a moment. Maybe. Maybe we all feel that feeling that every single direction has to be the right one and oh no what do I do? Maybe. Maybe we all feel that numbness of nothingness that feels like something beyond what anyone who hasn’t felt it could fathom feels empty. But I think there is a difference. Just like in all experiences. We can say in almost every situation; “you can’t know.” Where doesn’t that phrase work? … You haven’t lost a tooth! … oh, wait are you talking to a 3yr old? See what I’m saying? I think anxiety and depression are two of those things, like all other experiences, that some but not all people can say they have experience with.
I think I recently would have liked to claim (to myself at least) that my anxiety came from being in abusive relationships. But, honestly, I remember being anxious before that. The difference was, I had a support system that helped me feel safe. I rarely felt anxious within the bubble that my life was. It wasn’t until dealing with abuse that I learned how truly crippling having anxiety can be, how essential family (people you love, who love you) is to dealing with any form of illness physical or mental, how that bubble wasn’t set up the way we have set up our world. I’ve heard words that imply “our world isn’t for the weak.” But I would like to counter that and say that– perhaps we have set up a world that isn’t for the people who care to feel for others.
But I have certainly never claimed to be clinically depressed, situationally for sure. It is hard to be stuck in bed for weeks or not able to be at school with your friends growing up and not feel depressed during those times. It wasn’t until recently that I would say I, perhaps feel, what a minute part of feeling depressed clinically can be like. I lost my baby. But it is so much more than that. I lost what and who I thought I was going to be, what I thought I was going to do. Just like when I speak to people who have been diagnosed with one of the diseases I have, who I was going to be died with my baby. So now who am I heading toward in life? All of those patterns and goals I mentally prepared for, for months. The fertility treatments, the bed rest, the budgeting, the picking names, reading as much as possible, and getting excited.
I have come to realize it may be inappropriate for me to minimize my situational depression just because it isn’t the same thing as clinical depression. That’s the thing, it isn’t the same thing. Instead of comparing, then feeling guilty, because “compared to [them] I don’t have an excuse” I need to realize that I have something else (though similar) going on and I have to figure out what that means if I want to have the will power and knowledge to change the negative feelings and patterns this situation I’m in have caused.
I have found I have what sounds like a weird form of being suicidal. Though I don’t know how it is weird when there are books like Into The Wild. I don’t want to die. I want this life I have to die. I see no point in this life continuing. It makes more sense to walk away from this life and start another one all over again? Wouldn’t it be easier?
In the end it wouldn’t. “Becoming someone else” or “who you truly are” or however you want to put it is difficult in our society. It’s next to impossible. You can’t even change your middle name in some states in the U.S. If you walk away from people- you will be found by technology, the government, just google yourself- it doesn’t really matter what you’re running from, you won’t get away. If you don’t leave; the other people in your life will continue to see you as they have since forming your relationship. No matter what changes have happened in your life and how that has shaped who you are since meeting.
So the option I am left with is the same option I have had every time I reach this point in my life. Curl into the fetal position with a panting squirming cocka-poo who is trying to breathe for a few hours/days/ weeks/months.
Where I lie– Not thinking, thinking, over thinking, feeling numb, over feeling, feeling numb because I felt too much– cycling at a level that gets to the point where “I don’t even know” and “I’m as confused as you are” are the only answers I can come up with when asked questions pertaining to what I’m doing or what I’m thinking about.
Then figure out what my life will be now that this branch of experiences has been sawed off. I find a way to give myself make-work, that is useless work, that doesn’t make me feel any more worth something, but it’s doing something. Then I move to that something sparking an interesting, lighting me up…. and I GO!
I run with this wonderful new discovery of self. This awesome ability do whatever skill I have discovered, be it learning to knit socks, train dogs, or finally learning how to not interrupt when someone else is telling a story (I haven’t gotten that one yet). With this discovery the ball often never feels like it will stop rolling. I tend to stay in that state. Happy. Ready for anything. That’s what I always assuming anyway. Until something like this happens to my life and I am left asking anyone and everyone if they have any idea what coping strategies I’m supposed to be using to move forward in life and being left with nothing but the wall of caring, loving, sympathy and absolute cluelessness about it… the same situation I’m already in.
The problem with my THIS is that it doesn’t have only one layer to my situation. When you think the story is finished there always seems to be another but… and in this labyrinth of just one more hurdle at every turn I am getting tired.
If what is said is true about anxiety and depression. That we all feel it, at THAT LEVEL, can it be an excuse by each individual or is it truly a societal symptom? Maybe we do need to take a look at society and the direction mass mentality is going.
Personally I feel an individual should never have to ask for help it should just be given, but that isn’t how our society is set up, right?
Our society is losing itself to depression and anxiety, we aren’t do anything. Treating it as its own disease rather than the symptom it appears to be. We are all crying silently for help.
Because when it comes down to it… Why are we doing nothing but chemically medicate?