The first step in problem solving is understanding the problem you’re trying to solve. If you don’t understand the problem, you’re going to have an even more difficult time understanding the solution. It took me a long time to realize that depression is the reverse of what most people would consider normal emotion. If something undesirable happens to a person, especially something very undesirable, it can make that person sad. A loss, a death, all manner of tragedy can cause a person to feel sad. Depression is not a reaction to a situation. Depression is the lens through which you see life. Situations can cause sadness, and sadness can lead to depression, but for those who are chronically depressed it’s how you get to see the world. Things appear less than they are because of depression. It’s reactivity in reverse, and that can be a lot for a person to wrap their head around, especially if you’re not accustomed to it.
I am a harsh critic in everything I analyze. I will openly state that I measure things “realistically”, but the truth is that I can only measure things through the subjective “negativity goggles” I may damn well have been born with. My expectations have been low for as long as I can remember. It’s easy for me to assume the worst of people. It’s easy for me to sell short major events or happenings. I can’t be around people for extended periods of time. I am disinterested in many, if not most, things. I am an odd duck.
I don’t want pity from people. Point in fact, I don’t want much from people aside from them to pretend I’m not there should I be too close for comfort. I don’t like having to explain myself, or explaining myself, or trying to relate to others. I have a small group of people that I’m somewhat close with, but I’m also the most extraneous member of the group. I’m on the outskirts of it, and though we’re all relatively close, I’m probably the most “alien” member.
I have a best friend that I’ve been as close as I can possibly be with another human in a platonic way. He might know me better than I know myself.
I am perpetually lost. My incessant curiosity, the main driver behind my entire existence, is a coping mechanism that I use to understand the mercilessly cruel and cold universe we’ve all been shat into. Sol could be extinguished instantly today, and Alpha Centauri would still shine as though nothing had happened. The gravity of human existence is barely enough to make a ripple in time, we’re so minute and insignificant. We’re a pale blue dot in an infinite black ocean. Of what benefit is it to be human in a cold and uncaring universe?
The greatest adversity I’ve ever suffered has always been that I am a prisoner of my own mind. Even more bewildering is that I couldn’t have it any other way. Bearing the cross of knowing is superior to the ignorance of bliss. It’s something real. It’s palpable. Ignorant bliss is an illusion. It is ripped away in an instant and if you’re ignorant you’re not equipped to understand why.
I’ve been fascinated by Gnosticism because it seems to espouse a pragmatic notion that meeting adversity head on is the only way to understand existence. It fits all too closely with my own life experiences, which is very odd.
I don’t know, I really don’t. Maybe it’s just bullshit and depression is just an overreaction to every stimuli around me. Who knows, and quite frankly, would it even matter? I’ve been prescribed every class of antidepressant, from SSRI’s to SNRI’s and tricyclics. I’ve done countless hours of therapy, and it feels as though I’ll never untangle the “why” of it. At least not substantially enough to improve it. I can “ignore” it until something triggers a relapse even more intense than the already-pervasive negativity if I just choose to “exist”. I don’t know. There’s no rationalizing it because it’s not rational. I have everything I could want. I have all the creature comforts. I am not subjected to stressors or situations that should be causing major depression, so there’s nothing for me to “remove” from my life to improve the situation.
I tend to hold it in more often than not because of that. It’s not hard for someone on the outside looking in to determine that I don’t have a reason to suffer from major depression. And as a result of that, my major depression is widely perceived as “less valid”. But because I have a thick skin and a reserved demeanor, it’s not difficult for me to go extended periods without letting on that I don’t feel great inside. I’ve had most of my life to practice this.
Well, I guess that’s my rant for today. I dunno. It’s not great, and I don’t feel much better after this venting session, but it is what it is. Maybe someone else who can relate will read it and feel less alone. Ride on, weary warriors.