I am unraveling an important insight about this bout of depression. I have been suffering in silence for far too long. It's taken me an excessive amount of time to realize that my mask of normality does not serve me. Even in communities that I love and trust, I find myself shielding people from the truth of my daily struggles.
What is the harm of having people who care about me know that I am unable, unwilling or otherwise inhibited from doing things I want to, need to or aspire to do? I'm not sure, frankly. However, I've been wearing a mask to shield people from really seeing me. I'm tired of it. Perhaps I fear that people will judge me for "giving in" to my depression or look at me with sadness and pity. At this point those options feel less burdensome than pretending. So, I quit. If it's a relatively safe environment, I'm done lying. If I can't do what you ask or expect of me, I intend to tell you. If you're happy and I can't make it to your emotional level, I intend to stay where I'm at.
More importantly, perhaps, I'm telling myself that it's okay. It's okay to do exactly what I'm capable of an no more. I am not superhuman and I have limits. I'm going to begin honoring them.
Sadly, the one area where the mask must stay is at my place of employment. It's definitely not a safe environment. I picture myself hanging the mask on my cubicle coat hanger. In the morning, I can take my coat off, put the mask on for the 8 hours of torture. The joy, however, will come when I remove the mask at the end of the day--leaving it squarely on the hook until the next day.
Which brings me to the other corner I'm turning. It's time for a new job. The corporate monster has been eating me up and spitting me out for almost five years. It's time to become more than a cubicle dust bunny.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Monday, October 11, 2010
Alternatives to Video Games and Coming Out
Today was the first complete day that our family did not play video games. I asked our family to take a week-long break from being sucked in by Plants vs. Zombies or various color-matching games or the plethora of competitive, war-like games that appeal to Mr. Man. So far today there's been more video for Mr. Man, which I suppose is not much of an improvement. However, he and I read together for an hour from the final book in the Chronos Trilogy, which I highly recommend. He and I enjoy reading adventurous and funny books and my introduction to kid lit gave me a new appreciation for my son's point of view and a fond regard for his sense of humor. We enjoy our time together, reading on the bus or at home, and I cherish the hours that I share with him in this way. I suppose some day he will be embarrassed to have me read to him and I'll mourn the loss of this connection.
Because I didn't check out and play video games this evening, I was able to send some long overdue email messages, prepare this blog and draft feedback to my manager. It's my hope that I get to add knitting and bread baking to the list of accomplishments, too, but as I sit here imagining all the wholesome things I can do with my time, I realize that I have four very busy evenings ahead of me..translating into four very long days. I hate that. The idea alone exhausts me.
Which leads me to say that I'm struggling lately with a recurring, difficult bout of depression and anxiety. I've not been inclined to share this information publicly before, preferring to suffer in silence and confide in a few close friends. So my version of National Coming Out Day is to expose myself and wear my mental health challenges on my sleeve. I've fought these demons for many years, particularly since Mr. Man was born, and I told myself if I just tried harder or pushed myself more, I could overcome depression and I would be better. While it is good to not give up hope, I've also realized that this depression is larger than me. Whether chemical or environmental (see the spit up tag) I need more than therapy and a steely determination to help see me through. The medication I'd been taking seemed to stop working and so I've begun searching for a replacement, hoping that it will change my everyday experience. Most days I feel like I'm at the bottom of a pit, scraping my way out to daylight.
I hate being depressed. I hate that I have to deal with depression. I'm angry that most days feel like wading through glue, when so clearly my life is good. My wife of nearly 19 years is beautiful and amazing and I've never been happier. My son is a boy who grows into a more interesting adult each day. I have a community of friends who care deeply about me. I live in a beautiful city and would prefer to be nowhere else. Each day I marvel at the blessings around me and wonder why they don't obliterate my depression. How is it possible to be insanely happy with my life, yet feel like I'm trapped in a pit, clawing my way out?
My steely determination, while perhaps not the total solution, is powerful enough to tell me that I'll make it out.
Because I didn't check out and play video games this evening, I was able to send some long overdue email messages, prepare this blog and draft feedback to my manager. It's my hope that I get to add knitting and bread baking to the list of accomplishments, too, but as I sit here imagining all the wholesome things I can do with my time, I realize that I have four very busy evenings ahead of me..translating into four very long days. I hate that. The idea alone exhausts me.
Which leads me to say that I'm struggling lately with a recurring, difficult bout of depression and anxiety. I've not been inclined to share this information publicly before, preferring to suffer in silence and confide in a few close friends. So my version of National Coming Out Day is to expose myself and wear my mental health challenges on my sleeve. I've fought these demons for many years, particularly since Mr. Man was born, and I told myself if I just tried harder or pushed myself more, I could overcome depression and I would be better. While it is good to not give up hope, I've also realized that this depression is larger than me. Whether chemical or environmental (see the spit up tag) I need more than therapy and a steely determination to help see me through. The medication I'd been taking seemed to stop working and so I've begun searching for a replacement, hoping that it will change my everyday experience. Most days I feel like I'm at the bottom of a pit, scraping my way out to daylight.
I hate being depressed. I hate that I have to deal with depression. I'm angry that most days feel like wading through glue, when so clearly my life is good. My wife of nearly 19 years is beautiful and amazing and I've never been happier. My son is a boy who grows into a more interesting adult each day. I have a community of friends who care deeply about me. I live in a beautiful city and would prefer to be nowhere else. Each day I marvel at the blessings around me and wonder why they don't obliterate my depression. How is it possible to be insanely happy with my life, yet feel like I'm trapped in a pit, clawing my way out?
My steely determination, while perhaps not the total solution, is powerful enough to tell me that I'll make it out.
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