Home is Where the Hurt is

Painting by Rob Gonsalves

I’ve spoken before about how bone-achingly draining it is fighting depression. It is not a cut and dry throat infection or broken leg. It is even more complicated than most major illnesses. It requires a complete change of lifestyle, environment, and thought. My fear remains that is almost that you have to become a different person. As much as I hate myself most days, I don’t fancy the prospect of becoming something I am truly not. That being said, what I am is sick.

I am still yet to use every tool at my disposal as well. I am still in need of more time for meditation and I need to vastly improve my diet. (Sugar? Get rid of sugar?!?) I need to perhaps move to a community that reflects my values. I need a more meaningful purpose in life, at least a more suitable job.

It is a game of inches and each is gained through monumental effort. What I have found lately as I have slipped slightly (Canadian winters tend to do that to me) is a new frustration.

It is the horrific realization that my state of enduring depression is somehow so welcoming.

It is as if it has indeed become my natural state, and as soon as I near the surface and hope to break free of its embrace, I begin to feel vulnerable and anxious, as if I am alone in a new environment and unsure where to turn. I find this extremely alarming. How can something that seeks to destroy me. also convince me that it is a state of comfort and safety?

I am not sure how to battle this one, other than to keep fighting and hopefully hold my ground long enough in recovery to discover that feeling better is…..well, better.

I don’t know what to say. Just when i think I have a hold on this slippery bastard, I encounter something new that muddies the waters.

While I have Your Attention

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Every waking moment I am engaged in some sort of battle with my thoughts. Problem being is that I am always thinking, and the battle is shutting that off in order to live in the moment. maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I could harness my thoughts somehow towards something constructive and/or positive. However, most of the time it is destructive or largely useless ruminations.

I’m getting better at it. Not by leaps and bounds mind you, but at least I am aware of the issue and have insight on how to deal with it. This is a huge gain on my previous existence of living completely inside my own head. It tends to get lonely in there and I get encouraged to jump to all sorts of conclusions that are all false. A favorite past time is seeing two sides to every single issue, no matter how banal, and giving meaning where there should be none.

Anyways, above is a perfect example how I can run away with myself, seeing as I came here to proffer a certain thought I recently had, and I spent two (now two and a half) paragraphs talking about my own thought processes.

The thought in question was how the past year, (in my estimation, and at least in my country of Canada), has seen the issues around mental illness/health really start to make gains in sustaining itself among popular discourse.  Before, when the issue presented itself, it would last only long enough until a more interesting news story came along. This of course is true and will always be true if the current model of media continues. However, I noticed that mental health issues not only had longer staying power, but found itself being brought up in conversations where it would previously be not considered.

Case in point was the attacks on two soldiers this year in Canada. It would have been easy to write off the individuals involved as radicalized Muslims, and in truth, many people and news agencies certainly hold to that narrative (including our Prime Minister). However, I was pleasantly surprised and proud at how the mental health of the individuals was brought into consideration and how there arose a call for an increase in attention and available services to avoid future tragedies.

Now I think it is paramount to build upon such momentum and examine the best way to add to the discussion. In particular I was thinking perhaps it is time to shift gears away from the constant discussion of stigma. Of course this is an important, nay vital, point in any consideration of mental health and I myself have suffered from the negative backlash of stigmatization. However, perhaps it is time to move beyond discussions of barriers towards the goal of normalization.

By this I mean perhaps we should discuss these issues as if there are no barriers. Now, that is not to deny, or refuse to discuss such issues, but rather to shift the focus to describe mental illness as one would any health concern. Cancer walks, gum disease, ALS. The discussion around these issues are focused on education. Prevention. Fundraising/awareness.

It’s like when my oldest daughter was afraid of all things costumed. We spent an inordinate amount of time discussing her fear and how she doesn’t have to be afraid. That was, until we switched gears and treated mascots, costumes, etc., as a natural part of the broader landscape and discussed how we can navigate our lives accordingly. Maybe its a little abstract and subtle, but it did have positive results.

I know that comparison is bordering, actually pretty much ridiculous, but I am just starting to flesh this out and I am sure there are far more competent people out there working on this issue as I type.

I hope they know what they are doing. As for me, I’m still looking for the exit sign in my mind.

Not Another New Years Resolutions Post

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I lied. Kinda. While I don’t have a specific resolution, I am planning to subscribe to what a fellow Canuck wrote a year ago on Reddit.  His account is ryans01 and he deserves all credit and attention as I am sure he has been encouraged to embark on some sort of messianic journey to spread this word.  I am merely passing on the word, so credit to him.  It’s an incredibly realistic and tangible way to get out of a whole, which unfortunately, I find myself slipping into again.  I hope you enjoy it! (For context he is giving advice to somebody who is having a hard time)

 

“Ouch. Sounds like you’re having a tough time max. That sucks. I’ve been there, so I kinda know what you’re talking about. I’ve been in the ever circling vortex of self doubt, frustration, and loathing. It’s no bueno. I know. If you don’t mind lemme tell you a couple things. You can read em if you want, read em again later if you feel like it. But honestly man, if I spend all this time typing this out to you and you don’t let it be a little tinder for your fire, well, you’re just letting us both down. And you don’t HAVE to do that. You don’t HAVE to do anything. But you get to choose.

(Who am I? My name’s Ryan and I live in Canada. Just moved to a new city for a dream job that I got because of the rules below. I owe a lot of my success to people much cooler, kinder, more loving and greater than me. When I get the chance to maybe let a little bit of help out, it’s a way of thanking them. )

Rule numero uno – There are no more zero days. What’s a zero day? A zero day is when you don’t do a single fucking thing towards whatever dream or goal or want or whatever that you got going on. No more zeros. I’m not saying you gotta bust an essay out everyday, that’s not the point. The point I’m trying to make is that you have to make yourself, promise yourself, that the new SYSTEM you live in is a NON-ZERO system. Didnt’ do anything all fucking day and it’s 11:58 PM? Write one sentence. One pushup. Read one page of that chapter. One. Because one is non zero. You feel me? When you’re in the super vortex of being bummed your pattern of behaviour is keeping the vortex goin, that’s what you’re used to. Turning into productivity ultimate master of the universe doesn’t happen from the vortex. It happens from a massive string of CONSISTENT NON ZEROS. That’s rule number one. Do not forget.

La deuxieme regle – yeah i learnt french. its a canadian thing. please excuse the lack of accent graves, but lemme get into rule number 2. BE GRATEFUL TO THE 3 YOU’S. Uh what? 3 me’s? That sounds like mumbo jumbo bullshit. News flash, there are three you’s homeslice. There’s the past you, the present you, and the future you. If you wanna love someone and have someone love you back, you gotta learn to love yourself, and the 3 you’s are the key. Be GRATEFUL to the past you for the positive things you’ve done. And do favours for the future you like you would for your best bro. Feeling like shit today? Stop a second, think of a good decision you made yesterday. Salad and tuna instead of Big Mac? THANK YOU YOUNGER ME. Was yesterday a nonzero day because you wrote 200 words (hey, that’s all you could muster)? THANK YOU YOUNGER ME. Saved up some coin over time to buy that sweet thing you wanted? THANK YOU. Second part of the 3 me’s is you gotta do your future self a favour, just like you would for your best fucking friend (no best friend? you do now. You got 2. It’s future and past you). Tired as hell and can’t get off reddit/videogames/interwebs? fuck you present self, this one’s for future me, i’m gonna rock out p90x Ab Ripper X for 17 minutes. I’m doing this one for future me. Alarm clock goes off and bed is too comfy? fuck you present self, this one’s for my best friend, the future me. I’m up and going for a 5 km run (or 25 meter run, it’s gotta be non zero). MAKE SURE YOU THANK YOUR OLD SELF for rocking out at the end of every.single.thing. that makes your life better. The cycle of doing something for someone else (future you) and thanking someone for the good in your life (past you) is key to building gratitude and productivity. Do not doubt me. Over time you should spread the gratitude to others who help you on your path.

Rule number 3- don’t worry i’m gonna too long didnt’ read this bad boy at the bottom (get a pencil and piece of paper to write it down. seriously. you physically need to scratch marks on paper) FORGIVE YOURSELF. I mean it. Maybe you got all the know-how, money, ability, strength and talent to do whatever is you wanna do. But lets say you still didn’t do it. Now you’re giving yourself shit for not doing what you need to, to be who you want to. Heads up champion, being dissapointed in yourself causes you to be less productive. Tried your best to have a nonzero day yesterday and it failed? so what. I forgive you previous self. I forgive you. But today? Today is a nonzero masterpiece to the best of my ability for future self. This one’s for you future homes. Forgiveness man, use it. I forgive you. Say it out loud.

Last rule. Rule number 4, is the easiest and its three words. exercise and books. that’s it. Pretty standard advice but when you exercise daily you actually get smarter. when you exercise you get high from endorphins (thanks body). when you exercise you clear your mind. when you exercise you are doing your future self a huge favour. Exercise is a leg on a three legged stool. Feel me? As for books, almost every fucking thing we’ve all ever thought of, or felt, or gone through, or wanted, or wanted to know how to do, or whatever, has been figured out by someone else. Get some books max. Post to reddit about not caring about yourself? Good first step! (nonzero day, thanks younger me for typing it out) You know what else you could do? Read 7 habits of highly successful people. Read “emotional intelligence”. Read “From good to great”. Read “thinking fast and slow”. Read books that will help you understand. Read the bodyweight fitness reddit and incorporate it into your workouts. (how’s them pullups coming?) Reading is the fucking warp whistle from Super Mario 3. It gets you to the next level that much faster.

That’s about it man. There’s so much more when it comes to how to turn nonzero days into hugely nonzero days, but that’s not your mission right now. Your mission is nonzero and forgiveness and favours. You got 36 essays due in 24 minutes and its impossible to pull off? Your past self let you down big time, but hey… I forgive you. Do as much as you can in those 24 minutes and then move on.

I hope I helped a little bit max. I could write about this forever, but I promised myself I would go do a 15 minute run while listening to A. Skillz Beats Working Vol. 3. Gotta jet. One last piece of advice though. Regardless of whether or not reading this for the first time helps make your day better, if you wake up tomorrow, and you can’t remember the 4 rules I just laid out, please, please. Read this again.

Have an awesome fucking day ☺

tldr; 1. Nonzero days as much as you can. 2. The three you’s, gratitude and favours. 3. Forgiveness 4. Exercise and books (which is a sneaky way of saying self improvement, both physical, emotional and mental)

Edit: Wow reddit gold? Thanks! No idea what to do with it or whats the deal but many thanks!

Edit2: Someone asked what I meant by “much more when it comes to how to turn nonzero days into hugely nonzero days”. The long and short of it is a simple truth, but it’s tough to TOTALLY UNDERSTAND AND PRACTICE. It’s this: you become what you think. This doesnt mean if I think of a tree, I’ll be oakin’ it by august. It means that the WAY you think, the THINGS you think of, and the IDEAS YOU HOLD IN YOUR MIND defines the sum total that is you. You procrastinate all the time and got fear and worry goin on for something? You are becoming a procrastinator. You keep thinking about how much you want to run that 5 k race in the spring and finish a champion? Are ya keeping it in mind all the time? Is it something that is defining your ACTIONS and influencing you DECISIONS? If it is, then you’re becoming the champion you’re dreaming about. Dreaming about it makes it. Think and it shall be. But do not forget that action is thought’s son. Thoughts without actions are nothing. Have faith in whatever it is you’ve steeled your mind to. Have faith and follow through with action.

Ok, Ryan that’s a bunch of nice words n shit, but how does that help me turn slightly nonzero days into hugely nonzero days. Do you believe all these words you just read? Does it makes sense to you that you BECOME WHAT YOU THINK OF? Ask yourself: What do I think of? When you get home and walk in the door. (how quickly did you turn that laptop on? Did turning it on make you closer to your dreams? What would?) At the bus stop. Lunch break. What direction are you focusing your intentions on? If you’re like I was a few years ago, the answer was either No direction, or whatever caught my eye at the moment. But no stress, forgive yourself. You know the truth now. And knowing the truth means you can watch your habits, read books on how you think and act, and finally start changing your behaviour. Heres an example: Feeling like bunk cause you had zero days or barely nonzero days? THINK ABOUT WHAT YOURE DOING. and change just a little bit more. in whatever positive direction you are choosing to go.”

Marx on Mental Illness

 

I am part of a depression support group that meets bi-weekly in a church next to an AA meeting. I never thought I’d be in such a group. Maybe Narcotics Anonymous if I ever got my hands on some money.

I’ve been warming up to the fact and I’ve been getting more comfortable sharing. This past week I even kind of let myself go on a sort of stream of consciousness rant in which I started spouting theories both long held and ones developing in real time. It’s always those that are the trouble makers.

So I found myself halfway through an aforementioned developing theory when I realized I am probably insulting 98% of those present. Here it is:  I feel like socioeconomic status is directly related to your ability to recover.

If anyone here has been following the blog, I recently mentioned how I was denied entry into an experimental med trial due to the fact that I am still married, graduated school, and maintaining speaking terms with my kids. This really set me back and even had me questioning the validity of my illness. I felt that struggling hard for so many years has cost me the help I still badly need. I wish I had broken down completely years ago and really focused on recovery. Now however, I am under triple the weight of responsibility compared to my early twenties. Now breaking down (read: going off work) is a luxury that I cannot afford should I wish to maintain my families standard of living. Unfortunately that standard currently is struggling to make ends meet as I am the sole breadwinner.

So there I was, relating these thoughts to the group when I realized that the vast majority of those present have had such breakdowns. Here I am calling mental fucking breakdowns a “luxury” and lamenting that woes that I have to endure as something inside me gets me out of bed each morning. As soon as these obnoxious words left my mouth I knew how they sounded.

I didn’t mean to insult anyone, I was just trying to share in group. Also, not to further my arrogance, but I still actually believe that those who are more well off, or are the secondary income suppliers to a household, have the freedom to explore more intensive or advanced treatment options than those who are the chief suppliers of income, or make a significant amount of money. I felt only slightly better when I found this study that found that depression among the lower classes are more likely to be suffered chronically.  More studies such as this need to completed as well as on how the current model of capitalism is affecting both personal well being and the overall general psyche of modern society.

As for my group members, they are in no way weaker than I am due to their breakdowns. Likewise I am just as ill despite my continued functioning.  There is no way in hell I am bragging here. I wish I could just let go. Fucking something inside me is still holding on. Pushing me tirelessly forward. Make that dragging my corpse. All it has really served to do was to make me appear perfectly fine to my friends, co-workers, and family, and avoid the help I truly need.

I’m not meaning to be the Marxist of mental illness at the cost of insulting my fellow group members, or anyone for that matter. I just want to get better.

The Weight of War in a Soldiers Pack

 

As I wrote in yesterdays post, the denial of entry into the med trial really set me back a step. It feels as though the doctor actually wrote me a prescription to repeat the last couple years of my life. With the exception of one or two notable experiences, I would be perfectly fine in erasing the past 24 months permanently from my memory.

Now it’s not as if I have been sentenced to solitary confinement or anything. In fact, it could be quite the opposite. That shrink may have just set me upon the path of recovery. Only time will tell an maybe I should just shut my big mouth.

Although I can and usually do shut my mouth (eventually), It’s my mind that never sleeps. I can’t help but have very little faith in pharmaceuticals any more. especially first generation meds that are rarely used anymore. Just check the I-phone first generation sales. I am certainly no doctor, but one would feel safe in assuming that they way the medical research field moves is forward, rather than backwards.  When I get put under, they don’t stuff a ether soaked rag in my face and saw off my leg, ya know?

As a result I feel like I’ve been just been sentenced to sped some more time in this goddamn purgatory.

Now, despite my deeply held secret inner ambitions to become the next Steinbeck, I am terrible at describing depression. While this is a difficult task, one only need to look to writers such as Andrew Solomon to find that it can be done. For me it is more like defining the wind. While the correct answer would be ‘the perceptible natural movement of the air, especially in the form of a current of air blowing from a particular direction’ I would be mired in describing what the wind does, how it feels, and it’s pros and cons. Basically saying less with more.

So, when I was discussing this latest perceived setback with my family I described it as follows:  To me depression itself is like carrying around a huge rock. (I’m sure this is not a new analogy by the way) Any subsequent negative events are stones that get placed on the boulder for me to carry with it. While the stones by themselves would be no bother, it is their cumulative weight that begins to weigh me down. If it were not for the original giant rock of depression, I would have the freedom of mobility and focus to look for a proper place to set each negative stone down and walk away. Instead I’m trying to find a place to dump them all and grab a seat. Doing that will only cause damage and make a mess. I’ll also be exhausted from the effort and be unable to walk away.

Not a great analogy I know. But it is stemming from the fact that I am a person who stubbornly tries their best to ‘soldier on’ no matter what adversity presents. The problem there is, rather than stop, breathe, and examine each problem effectively, I am the type who will just fall flat on my face without warning. The only question is, what seeming innocent stone, or pebble eve, will do it?

We don’t talk much about suicide in my sessions as I am not the typical risk in that sense. A single serious stress may not change me much perceptibly. However, what happens when I get that last straw?

Look But Don’t Touch

 

There was a provincial election this past week here in Ontario, Canada. Despite all the allegations of corruption, false promises, and attack ads in the lead up to election day, only one thing really seemed to bother me. That was a show I watched that profiled all the new member of parliament hopefuls. The show focused primarily on the young age of some of the candidates.

‘This young lady is only 25 years old! She is active in fourteen not-for-profit organizations in her community, president of an NGO which she founded that focuses on curing blindness in malnourished kittens in developing nations, and is currently working on her PHD in International Compassion and Classical Guitar. Her father owns a wildly successful wasabi farm and she has already donated her sizable inheritance to a man who had a flat tire in the rain! She is considered a rising star within the party and a shoe-in to defeat the incumbent who has held his seat for 103 years. And just look at her sense of style!’

Although it wouldn’t seem so, I try to subscribe to the credo of:

“The only time you look in your neighbor’s bowl is to make sure that they have enough. You don’t look in your neighbor’s bowl to see if you have as much as them.”

― Louis C.K.

I do try hard to curb my obviously raging streak of envy. I admit it’s a character flaw I have struggled with all of my life. However, these days the fight to conquer it seems pretty much impossible. Never before have I felt so hopeless and imprisoned by the limitations that I face.

Life seems to be happening at a blistering pace all around me. Meanwhile, I struggle to swing my feet out of bed. I do try and find pride in such a modest accomplishment considering the circumstances. Still, I feel a well of potential rotting within me. All I seem to be able to do about it is dwell on it and ruminate over my tragic lot in life. Everyone hates a martyr.

I’m tired of watching life under glass. Watching people embrace life, overcome challenges, and dismiss trivialities that sink me like a stone. It’s as if I can hear life having a party down stairs with all my family and friends and I can’t find my pants.

Fuck you depression. I have no idea who or what you are, where you came from or why. Ruin my appetite. Rob me of sleep. Haunt my dreams. Darken my eyes. Limit my physical abilities. Muddy my memories. Make me asexual. Hell, go ahead and permanently loosen my bowels.

Just don’t take my future away from me and leave me sitting here to watch the clock run out.

 

 

 

Working Hard or Hardly Working?

 

I have discovered I am guilty of being a pompous Canadian. (we aren’t all overly polite nice people I guess) I have long lorded our national health care program over our less fortunate southern neighbour. I felt I never had to worry about any illness forcing me to weigh my wallet against my well being. I am of course basing this off Michael Moore’s Sicko in which a scene focuses upon a man who accidentally cuts off the tops of two fingers and, due to his income, has to choose one of the two to save. I never thought this sort of thing would happen to me.

My plight isn’t like those without health insurance. The problem isn’t with the treatment I am receiving. In fact I think they are doing the best they can. (Actually I pity them for have me on the roster. I’m sure they’d like to place me on waivers by now.) My problem is with what the vast majority of working stiffs around the world face: Going off work sick.

This past winter I went off and used by more than three quarters of my sick bank. I improved. My depression began to lighten. I was able to engage in a routine which included self care, vitamins, medications, exercise, blogging, journal writing, CBT therapy, meditation etc. I was even beginning to see that my core beliefs were responsible for all things negative in my life. I began to attack them, to root them out and stop them blooming. I decided to go back to work.

It was a decision that is proving itself premature. My routine has gone to shit and work is for some reason more stressful than ever. Naturally I began to sink. My family is understandably strained and has unfortunately validated my core belief that I am a burden to them. Uncharacteristic mistakes have began to pile up at work, subsequently making me sink lower. Really low.

Now, I am blessed to have a good job with great benefits. As good as they are however, If I elect to go off and exceed my available sick days I will only be eligible for only 70% of my pay. This roughly equals losing out on four hundred bucks every two weeks. Three kids, sole breadwinner, this cannot happen.

I could make it through a lot of physical ailments while working. Mental? I don’t know if I can pull this one off anymore

Not Just Blue

This would be a delicate argument to present, and I am certainly not the one to do so. However, as per usual, I am more or less thinking (for lack of a better word) out loud, motivated by my recurring frustrations.

In a couple of weeks, celebrated Canadian Olympian Clara Hughes is coming to my city for a public skate and a short talk on mental illness.  She is one of my personal heroes and I put her high up on the list of all time greatest Canadians along with the likes of Terry Fox, Tommy Douglas, and (obligatory mention) Wayne Gretzky.  I think of her often, especially in terms of my own life.  I am amazed at how much she was able to accomplish in the midst of battling depression.  I cannot express how much I look up to her.  I once had such burning ambition.  I hope like her I can get back up and reach my goals.

I can certainly admit that in the last ten years mental illness has certainly risen in the public consciousness.  Clara Hughes is a big part of that here in Canada.  Her Let’s Talk campaign with the Bell corporation is an amazing initiative. (That will be the last time I commend any corporation for anything.  Let me know if I slip up.)  I also agree that the first step in dealing with mental illness should be attacking the stigma that surrounds it.  Obviously getting the conversation going will open the door to increasing much needed progress.

What I was thinking about today was that perhaps another approach would be helpful when campaigning for mental illness.  This is where it gets tough.  Nobody wants to talk about the darkest part of mental illness; suicide.  I once read depression described as a lethal illness.  That took me aback.  Even though I was suffering from depression and repeatedly thought of ending my suffering, I never really put that in context with my illness.

I looked up leading causes of death world wide and there was suicide right in the top ten.  It got me thinking to the types of approaches used by other illnesses on the list.  Cancer, heart disease, Alzheimer’s, stroke, all are lower on the list. Nonetheless, they certainly are not afraid of underlining the loss of life resulting from their respective diseases. Even breast cancer, while several other forms of cancer have higher mortality rates, accentuates the possible loss of life.

Furthermore, a quick Google search on the trends of suicide rates show that they are are on a steady increase:  http://www.nytimes.com/2013/05/03/health/suicide-rate-rises-sharply-in-us.html?_r=0

Can we discuss the reality that mental illness is just not something to be ashamed of, it is a very dangerous and lethal illness?  It kills more people annually than Alzheimer’s, hypertension, diabetes, and liver disease.  Even homicide.  People kill themselves more than they kill others.  I can find posters about these illnesses in my workplace.  There is a currently trending YouTube video of actor Seth Rogen (also Canadian) speaking before Senate about Alzheimer’s disease.  I am by no means saying they are not also worthy of immediate attention.  I am just drawing attention to the fact that these illnesses tend to speak with a sense of urgency while we are still just getting people to open their mouths and talk about mental health.  Could underlining the death associated help to draw attention and support?

Of course the very nature of mental illness, what with the stigma,  often frightening symptoms, and obscure understandings, make it even very difficult to discuss in the first place. I get it. Who wants to discuss illnesses that feel that they are not just attacking your body, but your brain, your sense of self, your soul?

The other unfortunate caveat being the effect even mentioning suicide can have.  From the aforementioned article:

“One suicide can inspire other people, unfortunately, to view suicide as an option,” Ms. Berliner said. “It’s important that society becomes more comfortable with discussing it. Then the people left behind will not have this stigma.”

Again discussion is mentioned.  In this context however, discussion of suicide is proposed.

As I’ve stated, it’s above my abilities to discuss available strategies.  I would just like people to realize that, like me, when your friends and loved ones may appear to be ‘down in the dumps’, or ‘out of sorts’, death may in fact be near.

God Bless the Child

As a Canadian I was watching with pride as the Dufour-Lapointe sisters achieved greatness in Sochi.  In the undoubtedly repetitive and exhausting interviews that followed, it was mostly boiler plate questions and answers.  However, one statement struck me more than most:  They gave all the credit to their parents for years of sacrifice and putting them first.

This line is also par for the course in these interviews.  Olympians, musicians, authors, you name it, often praise the selflessness and support they received from their parents.  However, I never really stopped to think about it.  Since it is such a common theme, it should be taken seriously, rather than fade into the obligatory banter of fluff filled interviews.  If you want your children to succeed, they need the full support and willing sacrifice of their parents.

The very nature of parenthood calls for this of course.  However, in these noteworthy cases the parents involved no doubt went to extraordinary lengths to help their children achieve their dreams.  This shouldn’t undervalue the average parents struggle, or make people feel inadequate in their commitment to their children’s success.  That is easier said than done.

Parenthood has never been as closely examined as it is currently.  We are judged by our peers, the media, and ourselves.  How well are our children doing?  Surviving or thriving?  How many extra curricular activities are they involved in throughout the year?  Are you willing to max your credit cards to the limit, drive countless hours, focus on one child at a time, strain your relationships intimacy, and sacrifice your own peace of mind in order to get your children ahead?

Should we run ourselves ragged in hopes of producing our nations next darlings?  Should we instead seek to live a balanced existence with a focus on peace, harmony, love, and family?  One gives your child opportunities to reach amazing heights, successes, and future advantages, often with the loss of an idyllic childhood and immense pressure to succeed.  The other provides your child with a stable and supportive foundation as well as an example on how to reach balance and happiness.  However, they may find themselves behind their peers, and suffer feeling of inadequacy and resentment.

Surely it does not have to be so black and white.  However, the growing inequalities in our society can be found most exemplified through the lives of our children.

A Happy Revolutionary?

One concept I struggle with during recovery is losing the perspectives I have long held.  While I am no revolutionary (unfortunately) I long to live a life dedicated to change.  I am critical of everything around me.  I see faults and injustices that not only need to be changed, but can be changed.

This view finds a niche of sorts in my depression. Of course being depressed allows you to see ‘the truth’ that surrounds you.  When depressed you are no longer distracted by the shiny objects around you.  You couldn’t give a flying fuck about celebrity gossip.  It really doesn’t matter who wins the fucking super bowl.  Just going to get a coffee you see the homeless, chains pushing out family businesses, road rage, rabid consumerism, and people running to jobs they hate.

Where depression fails in this aspect is that it robs you of your ambition.  Hell, if it’s a chore to make your lunch, I doubt your going to be up for lobbying local politicians for change, attending rallies, or organizing your co-workers.

I look to those I admire.  Bobby Sands, Mandela, Guevara.  Were they ‘happy’?  Was it possible for them to find a semblance of contentment while working towards real change?  If they too saw the negative, did they hold it dear and use it to drive forward?  Can a balance be achieved?

This is my struggle.  I am losing my prime years to this soulless vacuum of a disease.  I should be five years at least into a career I give a shit about.  The longer I wait and suffer, the tighter the chains are bound.

The cliches always apply.  It’s the journey, not the destination.  The prayers.  The courage to change, the serenity to accept what I can’t, the wisdom to blah blah blah.  I know these saying to be true.  I need to live them. Get out of living in my head so much.

Easier said than done.