Friday, June 14, 2013

Unclogging the Idea Hose

Writer's block sucks!!! My brain is so full it's practically oozing blog post topics (eww) but every time I start to write all my gears grind to a halt. I'll tap out a paragraph, realize I can't figure out what my point is, then stare out the window some more. Or play Candy Crush. All the while wondering why my single best outlet doesn't want to be a viable option any more.

So what is a viable option? I can't think of anything healthy. Chocolate makes me happy, but if I were to eat enough chocolate to quiet the demons in my head I'd be eligible for my own reality show. Cigarettes used to make me happy, but after being smoke-free for six months now I'm not ready to give up on healthier living. Writing makes me happy, but see Paragraph 1 as to why that's not working out lately. 

I am coming to the realization that I'm in a funk. And I'm not the kind of funky that lends itself to disco balls and platform shoes. I'm the kind of funky that makes me want to curl into the fetal position until I feel normal again. Experience tells me that curling into the fetal position has the polar opposite effect of my desired outcome, so I'm determined to resist the temptation. But the demon who whispers lies into my ear won't stop telling me it's ok to pull the covers over my head and wish the world away.

Experience also tells me that even with the best medication, bouts of depression will seep through an otherwise healthy outlook on life. It's like if you're taking a decongestant for a cold: you feel mostly better, but you still have a cough or sneeze here and there. Experience also tells me this will pass. I just have to keep going through the motions of a normal life until it doesn't hurt to think any more. 

No really, everything's just fine.
And motherbleeping dandy.

The more I think about it, the more I realize I need to see a good doctor about reevaluating my treatment. These little melancholy outbreaks are happening more frequently and with lessening certainty there is any purpose to life. Deep down I believe we are sent here by a loving God to learn lessons and help each other. As long as I'm still breathing I am still working my part of the Divine Plan. But am I doing it right? On days like this it would be awesome to get a text message from God telling me what exactly I'm here for and how I'm doing on my part of the Divine Plan. You know, a little performance review so I know how to tweak my journey.

Really, how cool would that be! 
Do you know what's funny? What started out as a Facebook post about writers block sucking has turned into an actual blog post about depression. So why must it be a public blog post instead of a private journal entry? Why air so much of my dirty laundry? Because mental illness needs to be destigmatized. Depression can be a fatal disease, and more people than your realize are struggling against the darkness. The more people come forward and talk about it, the more our society will except the fact that depression happens, and ain't no shame in seeking treatment. Two generations ago people whispered the word "cancer" as though it were a shameful diagnosis. My hope is that we will soon see the day when people can stop whispering and say "depression" out loud.

Hmm. Venting works. I feel a million billion kajillion times better. Lighter. Hopefuller. On that note, I'll get back to the funny just as soon as I finish clawing my way out of this pit. 



  1. Yay for opening your eyes on the d word. Give it will feel better

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