Depression is ruining my life.

Maybe this will help: After you've typed up your post and you are feeling anxious or like your post isn't perfect and your finger is hovering over the mouse button to click "Post Comment"... We're out there somewhere cheering and excited to read your thoughts, gently encouraging you. Your post, no matter what brain weasels are involved in it's creation, will bring each of us the joy of knowing you are like us and you are out there. It will make us happy to see your post.

Edit: hopefully this doesn't sound like the exact opposite of what Maq said.

Well, crap.

In general, I've been getting better, slowly but surely. Therapy made me feel worse for the most of the day, but that's part of the process, but I've been feeling better in general. I think the last couple of weeks have been more good days than bad. Today is not a good day. I was texting back and forth with my fiance, trying to help her understand where I'm at right now, and where I have been recently and I stumbled on one of her triggers. She has been doing better with this stressor, but I got caught up in my own pain, and told her more than she could handle. Now she thinks I'm going to abandon her, despite me telling her that this particular thing is old stress that I haven't shed yet. The stupid thing, is that as soon as she is hurting, I immediately got out of my funk and went into fix-it mode. I'm glad not to be in a funk right now, but I'm sad and guilty that it took her hurting to get there, and I don't know how to reassure her, so I'm worried about her.

Garden Ninja wrote:

Well, crap.

In general, I've been getting better, slowly but surely. Therapy made me feel worse for the most of the day, but that's part of the process, but I've been feeling better in general. I think the last couple of weeks have been more good days than bad. Today is not a good day. I was texting back and forth with my fiance, trying to help her understand where I'm at right now, and where I have been recently and I stumbled on one of her triggers. She has been doing better with this stressor, but I got caught up in my own pain, and told her more than she could handle. Now she thinks I'm going to abandon her, despite me telling her that this particular thing is old stress that I haven't shed yet. The stupid thing, is that as soon as she is hurting, I immediately got out of my funk and went into fix-it mode. I'm glad not to be in a funk right now, but I'm sad and guilty that it took her hurting to get there, and I don't know how to reassure her, so I'm worried about her.

A simple txt.

"Apologies for tripping your trigger, I'm still learning how to do this. Thank you for helping me be a better person for us both. I love you."

Old patterns give us comfort. That is why 'fix-it mode' lifted your mood.

Keep at it, you're going to make mistakes, but communicate that you see them as such, and she'll get it. Maybe not immeadiately, but she'll know, through her therapy, that you are making the shift from "content to process", which is a Cognitive Behavior Therapy technique.

'Thief of Always' by Clive Barker was quite enjoyable.

In the last three hours, my 'mental weather' has gone from 'slightly overcast, with lengthy fine periods' to a f*cking, force ten, monsoon.

No umbrellas, not riding the storm very well either.

f*ck this condition/disease/disorder/curse. f*ck it in the ear sideways.

m0nk3yboy wrote:

In the last three hours, my 'mental weather' has gone from 'slightly overcast, with lengthy fine periods' to a f*cking, force ten, monsoon.

No umbrellas, not riding the storm very well either.

f*ck this condition/disease/disorder/curse. f*ck it in the ear sideways.

A-f*cking-men.

Hold fast monkeyman.

Maq wrote:
m0nk3yboy wrote:

In the last three hours, my 'mental weather' has gone from 'slightly overcast, with lengthy fine periods' to a f*cking, force ten, monsoon.

No umbrellas, not riding the storm very well either.

f*ck this condition/disease/disorder/curse. f*ck it in the ear sideways.

A-f*cking-men.

Hold fast monkeyman.

I'm trying... Just have to fight the hoard of weasels convincing me it's easier to give up.

I'm just so tired of all this sh*t, both physically, and mentally.

It's the worst. I'd rather have the flu.

Stick and move. It will pass.

I dearly miss the time before December 2012 where I could drink Coca Cola, eat cake and random hotdogs bought in the park, burgers, Chinese food, pizza - oh my God the pizza - and took those miraculous abilities entirely for granted.

[...]

I'm not entirely depressed, I manage to maintain a constant level of cankatankerous anger, interspersed with occasional glimpses of hope, as I paddle in the sea of sh*t that has been 2013.

m0nk3yboy wrote:

In the last three hours, my 'mental weather' has gone from 'slightly overcast, with lengthy fine periods' to a f*cking, force ten, monsoon.

No umbrellas, not riding the storm very well either.

f*ck this condition/disease/disorder/curse. f*ck it in the ear sideways.

If the problem is in keeping depression/anxiety levels under control, try the 5-HTP supplement. I hear it works wonders for some people. Also, another one called SAMe.

There have been a number of studies on the use of SAMe for depression. It has been hypothesized that SAMe increases the availability of neurotransmitter serotonin and dopamine.

Unless the 5-HTP Supplement and SAMe have a Way Back Machine, and they can go back 39 years and beat the ever loving p*ss out of an abusive mother, and a neglectful father who sat idly by in an attempt to "stop them before it's too late", then I think their effectiveness might be a tad restricted in my circumstance.

Thanks for the thoughts though.

I've tried a fair but of stuff. Prescribed medications, a lot serotonin focused, I've even tried stimulating nueropeptides through proten complex diets. Ultimately/unfortunately, they are stop gap measures for a root cause symptom for me.

You can't unbreak a pain of glass, you can't unring a bell.

In my case, I just manage what I have, with the tools and coping strategies developed in therapy. It's rough, it's tiring. Some days are better than others. Today started well, but I got caught out. I let myself down, and it impacted my mood, and my environment in a negative way. I mended the bits I could, then picked up the bits I couldn't in a way that wouldn't leave the debris for others to fall over. But that little action resulted in me being overburdened when I wasn't in a safe space to deal with it.

Thanks Maq, appreciated the exchange, it got me through. Just finished a physically exhausting 5 hour shift, it's 1am, and I'm about to have a hot shower, then fall into bed.

Goodnight all, thank you for reading my ramblings, and having me in your thoughts.

Can this not turn into a "whose early life sucked more" thread?

People vary. Trying to generalize solutions doesn't get any of us anywhere.

nothing

I'm not saying this to draw sympathy to those years, or to compare the severity of our issues.

tl;dr?

Nonetheless, I'm going to erase the potentially helpful post. It's a sensitive issue and I don't feel like fielding accusations of grandstanding right now.

Short version: Aikido has a record of helping abuse victims and people with PTSD. It helped me greatly. Try it.

shihonage wrote:
I'm not saying this to draw sympathy to those years, or to compare the severity of our issues.

tl;dr?

Nonetheless, I'm going to erase the potentially helpful post. It's a sensitive issue and I don't feel like fielding accusations of grandstanding right now.

Short version: Aikido has a record of helping abuse victims and people with PTSD. Try it.

If I hadn't messed up my knee, I'd still be taking sword fighting classes - being physical in those classes helped me feel more confident just in general, and as part of the classes we learned how to defend against other types of physical attacks too (though, I hope to never have any one come at me with a knife). I slept better, and not just from being physically tired, but from feeling strong on the inside and treating the weasels to tickets to the 'gun show'.

I hear physical exercise is good for helping with depression anyway, but there is something incredibly empowering about doing activities that help you to really believe, "I can take care of myself just fine thank you very much." It always gave me a really great high, anyway.

If you are thinking of working out, I'd totally encourage you to do it, becoming stronger helps a lot with your internal battles, and it distracts from the bad thoughts. If you're able physically, force yourself for a few months to do any kind of exercise that makes you focus and forget. Martial arts are awesome, lately I hear jujitsu is more popular all over the world, but anything is good. If your knee is busted, do something that involves the arms, train around your injuries. It's scary to start but it will help. Personally I went for weight lifting and I always keep this somewhere I can read it, because my experience was somewhat similar, sorry if it's a bit long:

I believe that the definition of definition is reinvention. - Henry Rollins

"I believe that the definition of definition is reinvention. To not be like you parents. To not be like your friends. To be yourself. Completely.

When I was young I had no sense of myself. All I was, was a product of all the fear and humiliation I suffered. Fear of my parents. The humiliation of teachers calling me “garbage can” and telling me I’d be mowing lawns for a living. And the very real terror of my fellow students. I was threatened and beaten up for the color of my skin and my size. I was skinny and clumsy, and when others would tease me I didn’t run home crying, wondering why. I knew all too well. I was there to be antagonized. In sports I was laughed at. A spaz. I was pretty good at boxing but only because the rage that filled my every waking moment made me wild and unpredictable. I fought with some strange fury. The other boys thought I was crazy.

I hated myself all the time. As stupid at it seems now, I wanted to talk like them, dress like them, carry myself with the ease of knowing that I wasn’t going to get pounded in the hallway between classes.

Years passed and I learned to keep it all inside. I only talked to a few boys in my grade. Other losers. Some of them are to this day the greatest people I have ever known. Hang out with a guy who has had his head flushed down a toilet a few times, treat him with respect, and you’ll find a faithful friend forever. But even with friends, school sucked. Teachers gave me hard time. I didn’t think much of them either.

Then came Mr. Pepperman, my adviser. He was a powerfully built Vietnam veteran, and he was scary. No one ever talked out of turn in his class. Once one kid did and Mr. P. lifted him off the ground and pinned him to the blackboard.

Mr. P. could see that I was in bad shape, and one Friday in October he asked me if I had ever worked out with weights. I told him no. He told me that I was going to take some of the money that I had saved and buy a hundred-pound set of weights at Sears. As I left his office, I started to think of things I would say to him on Monday when he asked about the weights that I was not going to buy. Still, it made me feel special. My father never really got that close to caring. On Saturday I bought the weights, but I couldn’t even drag them to my mom’s car. An attendant laughed at me as he put them on a dolly.

Monday came and I was called into Mr. P.’s office after school. He said that he was going to show me how to work out. He was going to put me on a program and start hitting me in the solar plexus in the hallway when I wasn’t looking. When I could take the punch we would know that we were getting somewhere. At no time was I to look at myself in the mirror or tell anyone at school what I was doing.

In the gym he showed me ten basic exercises. I paid more attention than I ever did in any of my classes. I didn’t want to blow it. I went home that night and started right in. Weeks passed, and every once in a while Mr. P. would give me a shot and drop me in the hallway, sending my books flying. The other students didn’t know what to think. More weeks passed, and I was steadily adding new weights to the bar. I could sense the power inside my body growing. I could feel it.

Right before Christmas break I was walking to class, and from out of nowhere Mr. Pepperman appeared and gave me a shot in the chest. I laughed and kept going. He said I could look at myself now. I got home and ran to the bathroom and pulled off my shirt. I saw a body, not just the shell that housed my stomach and my heart. My biceps bulged. My chest had definition. I felt strong. It was the first time I can remember having a sense of myself. I had done something and no one could ever take it away. You couldn’t say **** to me.

It took me years to fully appreciate the value of the lessons I have learned from the Iron. I used to think that it was my adversary, that I was trying to lift that which does not want to be lifted. I was wrong. When the Iron doesn’t want to come off the mat, it’s the kindest thing it can do for you. If it flew up and went through the ceiling, it wouldn’t teach you anything. That’s the way the Iron talks to you. It tells you that the material you work with is that which you will come to resemble. That which you work against will always work against you.

It wasn’t until my late twenties that I learned that by working out I had given myself a great gift. I learned that nothing good comes without work and a certain amount of pain. When I finish a set that leaves me shaking, I know more about myself. When something gets bad, I know it can’t be as bad as that workout.

I used to fight the pain, but recently this became clear to me: pain is not my enemy; it is my call to greatness. But when dealing with the Iron, one must be careful to interpret the pain correctly. Most injuries involving the Iron come from ego. I once spent a few weeks lifting weight that my body wasn’t ready for and spent a few months not picking up anything heavier than a fork. Try to lift what you’re not prepared to and the Iron will teach you a little lesson in restraint and self-control.

I have never met a truly strong person who didn’t have self-respect. I think a lot of inwardly and outwardly directed contempt passes itself off as self-respect: the idea of raising yourself by stepping on someone’s shoulders instead of doing it yourself. When I see guys working out for cosmetic reasons, I see vanity exposing them in the worst way, as cartoon characters, billboards for imbalance and insecurity. Strength reveals itself through character. It is the difference between bouncers who get off strong-arming people and Mr. Pepperman.

Muscle mass does not always equal strength. Strength is kindness and sensitivity. Strength is understanding that your power is both physical and emotional. That it comes from the body and the mind. And the heart.

Yukio Mishima said that he could not entertain the idea of romance if he was not strong. Romance is such a strong and overwhelming passion, a weakened body cannot sustain it for long. I have some of my most romantic thoughts when I am with the Iron. Once I was in love with a woman. I thought about her the most when the pain from a workout was racing through my body. Everything in me wanted her. So much so that sex was only a fraction of my total desire. It was the single most intense love I have ever felt, but she lived far away and I didn’t see her very often. Working out was a healthy way of dealing with the loneliness. To this day, when I work out I usually listen to ballads.

I prefer to work out alone. It enables me to concentrate on the lessons that the Iron has for me. Learning about what you’re made of is always time well spent, and I have found no better teacher. The Iron had taught me how to live.

Life is capable of driving you out of your mind. The way it all comes down these days, it’s some kind of miracle if you’re not insane. People have become separated from their bodies. They are no longer whole. I see them move from their offices to their cars and on to their suburban homes. They stress out constantly, they lose sleep, they eat badly. And they behave badly. Their egos run wild; they become motivated by that which will eventually give them a massive stroke. They need the Iron mind.

Through the years, I have combined meditation, action, and the Iron into a single strength. I believe that when the body is strong, the mind thinks strong thoughts. Time spent away from the Iron makes my mind degenerate. I wallow in a thick depression. My body shuts down my mind. The Iron is the best antidepressant I have ever found. There is no better way to fight weakness than with strength. Once the mind and body have been awakened to their true potential, it’s impossible to turn back.

The Iron never lies to you. You can walk outside and listen to all kinds of talk, get told that you’re a god or a total bastard. The Iron will always kick you the real deal. The Iron is the great reference point, the all-knowing perspective giver. Always there like a beacon in the pitch black. I have found the Iron to be my greatest friend. It never freaks out on me, never runs. Friends may come and go. But two hundred pounds is always two hundred pounds.”

- Henry Rollins

Mex wrote:

If you are thinking of working out, I'd totally encourage you to do it, becoming stronger helps a lot with your internal battles, and it distracts from the bad thoughts. If you're able physically, force yourself for a few months to do any kind of exercise that makes you focus and forget. Martial arts are awesome, lately I hear jujitsu is more popular all over the world, but anything is good. If your knee is busted, do something that involves the arms, train around your injuries. It's scary to start but it will help. Personally I went for weight lifting and I always keep this somewhere I can read it, because my experience was somewhat similar, sorry if it's a bit long:

Henry Rollins wrote:

Awesome stuff

I've always liked Henry Rollins's way of writing - his poetry always amazes me, too.

I do need to do more around building up strength in that knee. Kepheus and I recently moved into a building with a gym. I have no idea how to use the weight machines in there, but people in the building use them all the time, so maybe I can ask one of them to show me and start out slow. I also used to do the New York Ballet workout, that kicked my ass into pretty great shape too, so maybe I'll combine these and work on getting my knee as strong as I can (and thus, getting me strong).

The brain weasels would prefer me to just think about doing this stuff, though. I think they like the weak knee. It keeps me sitting more than I ought, and that keeps me on the vicious thoughts treadmill. And Rollins has it right, (at least, it rings true for me) "...when the body is strong, the mind thinks strong thoughts". I was at my happiest when swinging swords with my classmates and teaching my body and mind that I am its master - not the damn weasels or the people who sometimes like to help them out with negative things directed my way. And even in that happiness there were the highly-specialized Cheeseburger Weasels telling me I could skip class and eat instead.

I kind of want to go home and make the weasels sad by working out.

Mimble wrote:

I kind of want to go home and make the weasels sad by working out.

IMAGE(http://i.imgur.com/sgkoJZL.jpg)

Mimble wrote:

I kind of want to go home and make the weasels sad by working out.

Yeah, I've found working out to be the most potent antidote for episodes of depression. It doesn't make it go away per se, but it can get you out the downward spiral.

@Mimble: there are many people with busted knees in Aikido, a lot of them 50+ years old. They wear special thingies on the knee that hold it in place. Have you tried those?

Meanwhile, fat shaming makes me want to hide under a rock and never face the light of day. Just saying.

sometimesdee wrote:

Meanwhile, fat shaming makes me want to hide under a rock and never face the light of day. Just saying.

What is fat shaming?

Shaming overweight people for not getting thin.

Fat shaming is awful. One of my very close friends is significantly overweight and the horror stories she tells me of the things people say to her...especially the crap they say in front of her very young daughter, makes me furious.

Perfect strangers, too - not just "well meaning" family members or friends who perhaps think they are doling out a bit of tough love in the name of being helpful (and they are SOOOO not helpful) but strangers at the grocery store and stuff, who have no idea of the medical issues behind her weight gain, or the hell she goes through - physically and mentally! - because of these issues.

Just judgemental arseholes being judgemental because...? I can't see any reason for it, really. It's just nasty.

As for the knee - I've got a knee brace thingy, but I bought it myself without the input of any sort of doctor about whether it's the right thing to buy. Not a great move, maybe. I've got to get it looked at again anyway and then see where to go from there to start building up the muscle a bit and regaining strength and full flexibility again. Aikido is something I will look into though, see what sort of impact it would have. Sword fighting is a lot of lunging and my knee says, "Nope." to that right now.

You can skip the sword fighting (Iaido) in Aikido till your knee gets better. I knew a few folks in my old dojo with terrible knees who did well in Aikido. Not everything mind you, they just did what they could without hurting themselves.

As for the knee - I've got a knee brace thingy, but I bought it myself without the input of any sort of doctor about whether it's the right thing to buy. Not a great move, maybe. I've got to get it looked at again anyway and then see where to go from there to start building up the muscle a bit and regaining strength and full flexibility again. Aikido is something I will look into though, see what sort of impact it would have. Sword fighting is a lot of lunging and my knee says, "Nope." to that right now.

Having already had one knee scoped, even a Doc would hand out a sleeve with some sort of lateral support, usually a spring going down either side. Buying one yourself allows for getting one that might be a bit swankier.

Mimble wrote:

Fat shaming is awful. One of my very close friends is significantly overweight and the horror stories she tells me of the things people say to her...especially the crap they say in front of her very young daughter, makes me furious.

Perfect strangers, too - not just "well meaning" family members or friends who perhaps think they are doling out a bit of tough love in the name of being helpful (and they are SOOOO not helpful) but strangers at the grocery store and stuff, who have no idea of the medical issues behind her weight gain, or the hell she goes through - physically and mentally! - because of these issues.

That's awful, I did a bit of searching about it but it's a complicated issue. All I can say in relation to that and working out is that it goes both ways, people who are ripped and attractive get judged immediately all the time (meathead, bimbo, etc). In an ideal world neither should happen, but in the real world - who cares?

But when it comes to whether you work out or not, it doesn't matter what other people think, it's your body. If you want to get better physically, do it for yourself, ignore everyone else's reasons(good or bad), that's all. If you don't, that's cool. But above all, be honest with yourself about what you want. If you're not happy with how you are, know that you can always improve, and doing things with your body helps the mind.

I've friends who are scared of going to work out because "they'll be judged", but it doesn't matter what other people think in there, go and do your thing on your own. It's for you. Trust me, for people at the gym you'll just be another chubby guy or girl on tuesday. If you ask, most people will be happy to help. If they don't, well they're not obligated to, learn on your own.

One of the best things to see is someone who is clearly just starting out and stumbling and wondering how you work a machine, and you see it took all their courage to get out of their funk and go to train, it means people do want to get better, mentally, and no one can hate on that.

Has anyone heard from simpilot?

Maq wrote:

Has anyone heard from simpilot?

No, nothing. I really hope he's OK.