Pizza spork, depression

Ever eat pizza with a spork?

It’s hard for me to write about depression, because I hide my depression from everyone who knows me. Also, it’s hard to discuss depression when people think it’s typically a byproduct of a problem, and when the problem is fixed, the depression will cease. If I tell a person I’m depressed, I expect a stupid response like “take some vitamin C” or “I hear the sun is coming out this weekend.”

I’m always depressed, more or less. The depression is always present. Lycanthropy is always present, even when a werewolf is in human form. So if I typically say “I am depressed”, I mean a depression above the base amount. And that could be temporary, only a few days long, and caused by some stupid event. I usually don’t come forward and say I’m depressed when this happens. (I might bitch about the dumb event though.) But then there are times when the depression continues, gets worse, and really pulls me under. And that’s where I am now.

I don’t want to quantify my depression on here. I could, but I think it would be misunderstood by every person who read this, even if I used the most scientific numeric scale to do so. And I can’t explain the reasons in simple terms. I can’t just say “I’m depressed because my dog died” – it’s a bunch of conflicting things, catch-22s and deeper societal problems that can’t be pulled apart and easily explained. The executive summary is that I’m undergoing something similar to a mid-life crisis, except that it doesn’t have to do with mid-life, and a mid-life crisis is too yuppie of a term for me to deal with.

I could probably split it into three big interconnected pieces: “what am I doing with my life?”,”what happened to all of my friends?”, and “why can’t i get laid?” Bitching about any of these three items in a journal is pretty much wrong, won’t help me any, and won’t be very entertaining to you. And they’re more complicated than that. For example, it’s not that I’m just looking to get laid – it’s divided into issues like why can’t I meet new people, should I be looking for a long-term partner, etc. So it’s a mess. And it’s hard to think about one thing without pulling in another. I wish I could tear it into tiny pieces like a car engine, recondition or replace each one, and then assemble it back together. But it’s not like that – when I start thinking about relationships, I have to balance it with writing. And money. And time. And friends.

I’ve been thinking about finding a way – either on paper or electronically – to divide up these items, and then divide each piece into problems and tasks and solutions and other problems etc until I get a list of things to do. When you just say “I am depressed” it’s hard to do anything about it, but if I could say “I’m depressed about A and B and C and I need to do 1 and 2 and 3 to fix it,” then that wouldn’t be too bad. If all else fails and/or this gets any worse, I will buck up the cash and start therapy again. I’d rather spend the money on a vacation, but we’ll see.

Nothing else happening…


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