crazy, happiness, health, life, mind, psychology

Coping with Depression

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Hey depression. Here you are again, take your time since you are back. I can’t be present for you now since I gotta run errands.

It took some time for me to get to this point, to the point where I realized that fighting with myself makes no sense, so I started taking the depressive mood with a grain of salt.

First, I felt desperate opening my eyes in the morning feeling stuck in the stinky mud of hopelessness, worthlessness, and the entire loss of energy. My days would start with the gloomy “No, no, no, I can’t live like this, this crap will never end”. Here I was, unable to get out of bed, wanting nothing but to hide all day in the bedroom behind the drawn curtains. Daylight with people’ voices and kids’ laughter outside got me irritable, triggering the pain that everyone is happy, while I am doomed to live in the inescapable pit of despair and view the reality through the filthy lens of my messed-up mind.

Then I became resistant. I started a long fight with my helplessness, believing that I can beat the gloom and doom and change. My family got happy seeing me getting out of bed, eating, exercising, putting my make up on, and going to a psychiatrist for a scheduled visit. The guy kept putting me on something that was supposed to fix me. “It will normalize your chemical balance and improve the daily functioning, honey.”

I would nod, I would smile, I was very polite and always paid the bills they sent me from that clinic – I liked him calling me “honey”, or “dear”, or “sweetheart”. I kept picking up his prescription from a local pharmacy and flushing the pills down the toilet. Being drugged was never a way-out, but I would come back for his sweet-talks and brief hugs until this started draining my wallet.

The next step was therapy. A young lady was sincere in her efforts to help. She was fresh from her grad school and eager to make a difference in this world. I liked her, I tried to give tips after our sessions; she always refused referring to her code of ethics, boundaries, and other nonsense. I knew she was struggling financially as a single mom, overworked and underpaid. After two months of our therapy sessions, I cancelled all subsequent appointments and mailed to your home address a check with a thank you note and a request to spend the money on a newer vehicle. The check was never cashed, she was very descent and honest, I liked her even more after that.

Therapy got me into watching my thoughts, questioning my hopelessness, and disputing negativity. I did mood charts, took warm baths with sea-salt and lavender oil, and meditated with incense prior going to bed. The following morning would start with the same depressive crap, but I would know how to make it through the day.

Finally, I got bored, simply bored of following or resisting the mind farts, knowing that the mind will always be there, telling me whatever, and there is no possible way of turning it off. The realization got me shocked, then sad, then blah. Finally, I got entirely unconcerned, I had the life to live and things to do even with a broken tape-recorder in the head.

The alarm-clock rang to start the day, I opened my eyes and yawned, the gloom combined with exhaustion and nagging irritation was there. I got up and went into the bathroom. I wanted to get ready, I had things on my agenda: to drink water, to clean my fish tanks, to get roses for my girlfriend’s birthday party, to drive to the airport, to finally see the mountains. The depression was there, I shrugged my shoulders, letting the mind do whatever, I did not care, I really wanted to start my day with drinking some water.

happiness, life, love

We Deserve Our Problems

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– You deserve the ones you attract into your life, Vixen.

Tuesday coffee-break with Carla, water for me, decaffeinated latte for her. She was in a hurry as usually, 30 minutes prior another court case, chic black-rim glasses, pencil skirt, and merciless intelligence.

 – Actually, you are right, – I stopped sipping water through the straw and quickly adjusted the dress strap.

 – I am always right about you Vixen, you are very easy to read, very predictable, a perfect target for jerks like your Jim or hm… what was the name of your crazy surgeon again?

 – Greg, his name is Greg, – a hot flush covered me from head to toe as I said his name. Smile on my face and dizziness in my head, madly in love, irrationally obsessive

 – Yeah, they are pretty much reflections of what you think you deserve. They use you and throw you away after. And you are ok with it. What is wrong with you?

– I have no answer, my dear, – my glance fell on her coffee cup stained with the red lipstick. She was getting ready to leave, nervously searching for the car key in her purse.

This was one of few times I entirely agreed with Carla. We do deserve what we have, we build our reality based on what we allow ourselves to do in this life. We allow ourselves to be sick, miserable, healthy, or happy. We allow to open up to new opportunities and people or to close all doors and live blindly putting “good” or “bad” labels on ourselves and others.

Jim was the reflection of my desire to be with someone in power, someone to submit to entirely allowing him to resolve my problems. Once I realized that no one can help me fix myself but me, I lost interest in his obsessiveness and stopped reacting to his endless “you are insane, completely insane, all you care is my money and my penis”. With Greg it was different, he threw me into the roller-coaster of orgasms and pain, I loved the feeling and was not ready to deserve a better person.

Carla was quiet as we were leaving the coffee shop. She seemed to be disappointed.   I gave her a hug and wished her a nice day, she smiled back.  – Think about my words Vixen, you attract your own trouble.

 – You are a lawyer, not a psychoanalyst, – I was not in the mood to open up to her, she would not understand anyways.

 – I care.

– I know.

I watched her heading to the courthouse and went to the park to feed the ducks.

happiness, life, love

Anxiety versus Happiness.

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Our mind – a compilation of phobias and fears, resentments and grudges, frustrations and anger.

Who ever gave us this tool, did not clarify how to efficiently silence it or use it if needed. And we identify ourselves with the mind, live under the diktat of past issues, and put labels on ourselves and on others. We do not live in the reality. All we see is gloom and doom of the past traumas in the present. We voluntarily perceive this world through the skewed glasses and fiercely resist to take them off. Pain of the past experiences is very familiar; the uncertainty of the present is scary. Choosing our inner demons over questioning the rationality of our fears is safe. We get too adjusted to mental injuries and sufferings, and do not want to leave them behind. If we lock our past in the closet, the reality will seem suspiciously quiet and unusually calm. We are not used to it. We get panicky expecting the storm to hit us right after the silence. We hurriedly put our skewed glasses back on feeling relieved that the uncertainly is gone, and our life is filled with familiar anxiety and depression again.

Familiar sufferings are better that unusual calmness.

The mind keeps demanding the solution to the problem. Turning the mind off means relinquishing the grip of the problem; we let the problem resolve itself. We go with the flow and live accepting our issues as illusory as everything else created by our mind. We do not follow the mind games, we just observe the panic it keeps creating. We see the problems as circles on the water, knowing that they will be gone, and we will submerge in the serenity again until the mind creates another issue to worry about. Resolving the present through the past experiences will give us the same old panic. The problem will resolve itself opening doors to a wider world, untarnished by past traumas and resentments.

Insanity means using same old thoughts and actions expecting new outcomes. Staying calm, accepting the uncertainty of our life, letting the demons in our mind pass is the key to true happiness.

 – I have no idea what you are talking about, Vixen, Greg was skeptical, stuck in his rigidly surgical world of cutting and medicating.

I gave him a hug and smiled. I loved him and learned to accept his insanity, his wife, endless mistresses, and pathological greediness. Intimacy with him balanced me out, I lived at the moment, I felt happy.

 

 

happiness, life, love

Happiness is

 


Happiness is…. 

 

Two hours behind the wheel got me pensive, the road was dark and boring, quiet music added to my reflective mood. What is actually happiness? 

Happiness comes when the burden of adulthood is taken off my shoulders. When I stop absorbing sick societal demands to behave in line with my age, gender, education, and social background, life opens new doors.

Happiness comes when I live with my eyes wide open, twisting the kaleidoscope of this reality instead of burying myself in the box of someone’s expectations.
I recalled Carla’s “We have to observe the proper decorum, otherwise this society will collapse into chaos”, and shook my head. She was a lawyer, relentless and obsessive about rules and regulations. I disagreed, she got mad, hiding her insecurities behind feminism, sexless suits, and lies about being happy with someone who has weak erection and eyes of a tired cow.

 

 Happiness is the ability to let go of the baggage of resentment, anger, and fears, and feel as light as a leaf in the wind. Happiness is the rare quality to see this world as a 2-year-old: no obligation, no etiquette, no deadlines.
Happiness comes when we take off the pretense masks; or at least when we stop associating ourselves with the fakeness we have to send to this world in order to be accepted.
Happiness means drinking water in the morning, feeling the morning freshness with each cell of the body.
Happiness means touching a leather seat with the naked skin, panty-less in Greg’s Audi.
Happiness means 50 boy push-ups outside, in the evening; inhale down, exhale up, muscles are sore, heart is ready to jump out of the chest. Darkness, chilliness and raccoons around.
Happiness means watching sunsets by myself on the beach, screeching seagulls, kissing teenagers, and the redness of the sea horizon.
          What does happiness mean to you?  – I asked Greg once trying get through his cold pit-bull eyes to feel his soul.
          I am happy.
          I mean how does it feel when you are happy?
          I am happy, – his response was usually laconic, his voice was usually insensitive. Always focused, always to the point. Cold mind, hot penis. His academic writings were logical and geniusly succinct; intimacy with him was awesome, his introversion drove me crazy.  
Happiness means feeling whole with or without the most wonderful person in this world.
Happiness means being here and now driving through the darkness of Florida Everglades.
Happiness means drawing and coloring elves and dragons prior falling asleep.
Happiness feels like comfort, safety, and serenity.
Happiness comes with physical and emotional health. 
Happiness is one of few real things to strive for in our meaningless existence.