Evening Thought-Purge

Reflecting after group, I see how common issues build bridges of compassion or understanding. I’m feeling extra introspective:

I keep hoping I’ll dream about J like I did a few weeks ago. She’s the only echo left… all the others have faded into nothing. In my dream, we had a strange encounter, but it reminded me of several aspects to my past feelings that feel very real now. In that moment with her, things were like they used to be… a familiar sort of estrangement. A sense of elusive excitement. It was a piece I could hold in my hands that now is shrinking down into nothing.

I know I’m not doing my best. I have recently, but not anymore. My best is too expensive; all I can afford is meh. Dwindle.

Longing for spark, or poof & rabbit. The friskyfied feelings. The electric arcs fingertip snapping their crackle. I remember what it was, that I had it, but that was long ago it seems.

This is a fool’s errand.

The cauldron churns some new rancid elixir which will grant stupendous charisma at the cost of unfathomable isolation.

Yet To Come

One of the conflicts I run into when attempting to communicate abstractly with others is perspective: each person I interact with has a different view of the “arc” of our trajectory as a society, and thus, a way of seeing things vastly contrary to my own. That disparity is a foreboding obstacle to honest discourse, and a defining gap in connection that is nearly always to vast to bridge. I have often found this cravase most abyssal with people I had intimate exposure to, since my traits and theirs were more entwined than in any other interaction (making comparison easy).

 

As I have become older, things have slowed down… the gravitational force which once had me anchored to exacting control of my reality has dramatically lessened. The resulting vacuum of “directing” force has accelerated my drift from the substantive microcosmic world of an incrementalized life.

 

Now, I’m left with the real quandary of making observations or comparisons that do not jive with others, or even occur as relevant. My thought processes are conclusively simple and based in a world of concrete moral contrasts and factually well-represented theories. That point also does not seem to be well understood by others.

 

Part of my liberation has come from not only the environmental reduction of gravity, but my own unclenching my vain attempt to control the uncontrollable, external world of others. Instead of expectation, I have thoughtful recalculation. I have no understanding of what is going to occur right up until it happens. Turns out, there is no advantage in prematurely and anxiously forecasting potential results to STILL be caught flat-footed in the eventuality of an outcome. That anxiety-train is just an indulgence of paranoia, and after enough times seeing that path lead to personal pain or failure, I have changed tracks.

 

Now, with that sense of existential detachment, one might expect disconnection from the cares of the societal world, if one’s moral compass points inwardly towards the self-satisfaction of narcissism. I care more, now, because even a little pile of moss is a miracle of reality in its own, clearly less impactful way. People are the ultimate gift, because there are no duplicates of the yet uncharted world of personalities, intellects, perspectives and experiences. We only get one chance to be here, to see, to breathe and be alive. Even in the most catastrophic suffering, there is still the curiously uncertain world of the unfurling, wind-snapped standard of time.

 

Unabashed

Survivor of mental illness

15 years lived experience

Mindfulness practitioner

Side-By-Side Companion

Volunteer

Temporary Employee

Grant-Writer

Website Administrator

Peer Connection Program Coordinator

Peer Connection Support Group Facilitator

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Stacking up makes for taller piles of things. Looking at the sum of the things also pleases, especially since the evidence is right there.

My thoughts are moving around, or by. Too fast these days, and the little ribbons of the flapping as they whiz makes many dizzy and not good thoughts. Little pieces. Shrugged, slumped. Tired.

Activities such as this thumb message help. The realness of fact. The providence of knowing the self. So much remains covered in dried leaves.

Brick-Related Nonesene

I have found my words to be infrequent. I’m less inclined to open, having found safety in being closed.

I’m understanding my uniqueness better, in terms that aren’t shaming (mostly). I feel untethered from possibility because of the inherent isolation imposed by my traits, flaws, preferences and composition. The bridge I built to acceptance spans a mighty chasm, but will endure (show me how to unknow something and you can have my adoration).

Bricks are appropriate because you can’t make anything with just a couple and it usually takes a shitload of them all piled up to assemble something worth marveling at.

Just like bricks, their integrity remains solid until the ground starts moving.

I see out from the peephole. I’m here, but I only want to come out if I have one of my masks on. I have become familiar with how it fits, but it is still taking little pipet-drops away each time. I don’t notice it happening, I just do what I have to in the present. I see the quantity getting lower only as I glance away and back again after a time.

This is the mode. Survival is paramount; effectiveness depends on forward momentum. The masking suits that idea, while shielding. I won’t argue that it’s healthy, but it is not overtly destructive. My personas help move my life forward in most cases, and they are still me. Yet, they dissolve away in my solitude, and the truth hidden behind the guise is exposed. Within me lies the pile of smelly socks that is the inmost nature my true self. Having a history of repulsion, the imagery seemed appropriate.

Do you know what I’m talking about? I have simply embraced my “never” and moved on. Do you know what “never again” feels like? I do. I remind myself every day that choices have consequences.

More words will come, and maybe they will be more coherent next time.

Gurjection

My trajectory has been unclear recently, or, wobblier than usual. Symptoms have cost me much of the momentum I had going, but not forever.

These down times are a regular event in my town. We get out the fancy streamers and everyone dresses up like sad clowns. Tickets available on StubHub.

Point being, I’ve survived worse and more help is on the horizon.

I have recently established a career path that is ever curving toward a fully self-sustaining state. 40 hours a week. I can, quite literally, raise money to pay my salary through my own actions. A successful grant or two would accomplish that. This is the full time plateau I have sought.

I have been here with me the whole time, and I can say with confidence that he is doing about as well as he ever has. I’m pleased that he hasn’t imploded into a singularity or shattered the world with recklessly destructive explodination-related incendiary activities.

Fight! Do not let Toejamela McHosebeasterson put the sweaty foot to your throat. There is a shitload left to do our here in the world. Are you going to let Moopybritches Sucktoadersplats kick your ass today? I didn’t think so Charlie Championship. So grab your vitamin water and spiked cudgel and get out there! Let’s do this!!

My pep talks only work on the hopelessly insane.

Grung

Well, here I am… slowly sliding down the slope into a deep trough. Unlike previous trips to the big D, I am more prepared to deal with the looming possibility of decline. It helps to have known, roughly, from the beginning that my current neurochemical state was a likely outcome of the chosen medicinal path. I did knowingly discontinue the Latuda months ago because of how the side effect was daily vomiting. I was well aware at that time that this would put me precariously undefended from the natural onset of symptoms. Now that realization has been the primary catalyst towards action, I have a much more coherent and sound approach to management.

First, this is not the first time I have been low in the psychiatric drug department. This is not the first time I have realized I was becoming depressed and considered a change of course. At this juncture in my life, I have been expecting this to happen and have been planning for more than a year. My knowledge gained and support system created have and will continue to prevent my possible meteoric impact.

Lately, I have made a good steps in recognition/evaluation, and here are some things that are going to help me stabilize as time goes on:

I will need to occupy myself with volunteering and working hard, as the earned value of labor and establishment of systemic worth is a good elixir for suppressing depression, and providing a distraction. The more I give to this the higher I push the yield of possible activities.

I should really encourage myself to write here on the Blog more often. I have been avoiding it, feeling the tendrils of my expanded creativity become fully retracted. My thoughts have also been pretty fragmented, and I quickly lose interest in expressing myself. I need to risk opening up here as well as in my Peer-to-Peer class.

I need to make more time for physical exercise. The stepping, on a consistent basis does help my mood. I definitely notice when I am not doing well physically, and this seems to be an hand-in-hand with neurochemical depression. The sun helps.

Well, I’m at the end of a long day, with another thingie to do tonight. I have a career path that provides a constant reason to be introspective, which is my front-line defense against calamity. It’s a learning, and preventative place I have sent myself, which gives me plenty of tools at my fingertips when a need arises. In times such as these, I do have the skills to cope with symptoms and continue to move forward with my life. I am not destined to implode, I am interested in prevailing. The things I can do for myself now will certainly sustain me until I see a psychiatrist in the next couple of weeks. Intake on Monday.

I continue on, in pursuit of shiny friends and soft things to rub my nose on.

Symptoms

I’ve indicated in past notices that I viewed my current neurochemical state on a downward slope and recent observed evidence confirms that. I am alert in this state, but struggling to maintain good health.

Symptoms I have observed in the last several weeks:

Lack of interest in extracurricular or fun things

Slowness, soreness, delayed response time

Inconsistent sleep

Dramatic increase in effort required to motivate

Isolation

Neurochemical imbalance/deficiencies/symptoms

Dependence on substances in effort to self-medicate

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So most of that is pretty serious shit. There was no sneaking, these things have been accumulating, or increasing. Now, as I try again amidst the fray to gain some objectivity, I see how the symptoms of increasing depression have begun to surround me. At first, I turned to some default negative coping mechanisms like escape, or regression. I was having a lot of angry thoughts, and consistently find my arrow pointed down at the start of every day.

However, as I told my boss yesterday: “this isn’t my first rodeo.” I’ve been down in the black pit before, and my reluctance to go back is all the reason I need to be introspective. I was also talking about that topic last night at my Peer-to-Peer class. I spoke about how I began to grow “tired” of being down, having my life collapse and all that. I continually sought to treat my symptoms, but for years I never really understood myself, my habits, and my flaws which can cause me trouble. That lack of comprehension provided a parade of doomed solutions for me to splay myself upon prior to detonation. That dynamic proved both painful and unsustainable.

 

Responses I have taken to the onset of depression:

Initiated process with GP to achieve referral to see local psychiatrist (top priority)

Discontinued consistent alcohol abuse as escape mechanism

Discontinued abundant cannabis use as escape mechanism

Established regular exercise requirements outside for at least 60 minutes

Current medications are taken on time and regularly. Organized for minimal dose confusion.

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I know what steps I need to continue taking to improve my condition. More activity will help contribute where my current neurochemical cocktail is lacking, but it is not a long-term solution. I need to be doing everything I can to sustain until I can see a doctor and get my medications looked at by a professional. Medication management is one of my “three pillars” theory of sustaining good mental health. All pillars must be strong for stability to be achieved, otherwise, things get tippy.

I continue to walk forward, set on improvement, while conscious of potential pitfalls and internally-generated danger.