"105 HP of fury" (105HPofFury)
08/12/2014 at 22:47 • Filed to: None
2
10|
"105 HP of fury" (105HPofFury)
08/12/2014 at 22:47 • Filed to: None | 2
| 10 |
I was cruising through the comments on the article about Conan O'Brien and Robin Williams, when I came across this one:
!!! UNKNOWN CONTENT TYPE !!!
Has anyone here battled depression? What helped you through it? Feel free to respond directly to their comment on the post.
Some pork for your trouble... Thanks!
Nick, Drives a Cobalt LT
> 105 HP of fury
08/12/2014 at 22:53 |
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I responded to him, not sure if I will help at all but, I just told him that if the hospital helps then go back seek the help he needs.
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105 HP of fury
> Nick, Drives a Cobalt LT
08/12/2014 at 22:59 |
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Thanks. Depression is not something I've personally experienced, so I don't have personal advice to give... just what I've heard from other people.
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Nick, Drives a Cobalt LT
> 105 HP of fury
08/12/2014 at 23:11 |
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I watched my mom battle it for years until she lost that fight in 2008.
And i myself fight it too.
Its not easy. and a good support system makes things easier.
phenotyp
> 105 HP of fury
08/12/2014 at 23:42 |
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It's funny how events like this can allow for people to have real conversations about things, isn't it? A friend of mine once quoted a comedian, saying "depression is just feeling bad with more commitment." I almost wish he knew how wrong he was, but I wouldn't wish that firsthand knowledge on anyone outside of the Bush administration.
Honestly? Nothing has ever helped. It's something I've fought every single day I remember. Some days it's easier than others. Some not. Therapy, in my experience, is fumbling bullshit. It's just talking. Happy pills scare the shit out of me. There have been times that, thanks to The Darkness, the world seems so gorgeously crystalline and colorful and amazing and words are beautiful and logic is so shatteringly clear and the shadows of leaves overlapping and bokehing on the sidewalk in front of you is the most beautiful thing you can imagine.
And there are times when you just can't bear to imagine that such a world is possible, let alone right outside your door. You can't bear the thought of interacting with other people. Other people, who, you imagine, have inner lives, too, whom you're sure you have wronged in every way imaginable with every interaction and they're re-experiencing it every time you're together, because that's what you're probably doing. Times when it seems so pointless, costly, and just plain fucking selfish to continue existing that your internal math tells you that not existing is far more preferable to the world. And probably you.
This is what it's been like for me. It's hardly a catalogue, just like the trailer. I fight it every. Fucking. Day. Because somehow I think that giving up is even worse. Maybe it's the Midwestern work ethic in me. Maybe it's that I'm able to steal back something, just enough, to make me say, yes, I would like a tomorrow, please.
I can't say what it's like for anyone else. But I can say that depression is not a thing to be fucked with or trifled about.
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105 HP of fury
> phenotyp
08/13/2014 at 00:36 |
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Thanks for sharing your story. Keep fighting! We like having you hanging out here.
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phenotyp
> 105 HP of fury
08/13/2014 at 00:50 |
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I intend to. And I want anyone and everyone else to speak up. It's a terrible, difficult, and, frankly seductive thing. I hate it. So hard. And sometimes it presents itself as truth and you aren't able to reason your way out of it. The thing that people who don't know it don't understand is how overwhelmingly logical and true it will present itself. Like you just can't argue it, and resign.
Never let it win. I wish I could say better, but that's the best I can do.
Dsscats
> phenotyp
08/13/2014 at 01:36 |
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This is so fucking eloquent.
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phenotyp
> Dsscats
08/13/2014 at 01:40 |
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Thank you. Honestly. It was really hard to write. But if it helps anyone, ever, anywhere.
Zibodiz
> phenotyp
08/13/2014 at 02:57 |
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I used to struggle with depression a lot more than I do now, but I agree; the way you put it is pretty straight up. There really is no magic wand to make things better. I've found things that help ease the agony slightly, but a couple of times it's been so heavy that I attempted suicide. The only thing that's made a lasting change in my life is when I got saved, and even that didn't "cure" me or anything, it just took the edge off*. Depression is a powerful monster, and it can rear its ugly head without any rhyme or reason. One minute you're having the best day of your life, the next, you never want to see another human being again, and just want to curl up in a ball and stay there.
I wish I had some wonderful advice to give the fella' who posted that original comment, but the only thing I could say is "you're not alone... and yeah, it sucks." Somehow that doesn't seem very encouraging.
*if anyone is curious, I'd be happy to explain, but I'm not here to preach or anything, hence why I didn't.
Nibbles
> 105 HP of fury
08/13/2014 at 09:49 |
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I deal with depression
That's a bad phrase. I live with it. I'm a self-medicator. Now don't take that as "smoke weed erryday" or "I'm an AA case." I don't do the drugs but I do drink. Not heavily, but regularly. I drink some because it puts my mind at ease. After a beer, my spirits are raised. After two I get social. I know my limits and do not push them except on planned occasions.
That said yes it is a crutch. I use it willingly. It makes me dumb enough to remember life is worth being around.
Now for the word vomit. I come from a long, proud lineage of people who will not discuss their problems. I was taught at a very young age to deal with it. My early childhood was bad enough I've blocked most of it out. No details here, but let's just say I was a prisoner in my own home. I cannot look at green beans or zest soap, both for the same reason (let that sink in). Multiple escape attempts, some successful, before I was seven. I hotwired, and drove off in, a Renault LeCar when I was six.
Then I was adopted. My older brother - who was also adopted, much earlier, by the same people - I finally got to build a relationship with. For a year or so, then he committed suicide. I wasn't allowed to show feelings or talk about it. I did a lot of stupid things afterward. Many things I still can't really discuss. Things that, by their merit, should have ruined my life entirely. But they didn't. Somehow, through all of it, I didn't die. I continued down that path trying to off myself in the most grandiose fashions my drug-addled brain could come up with. Still didn't happen. I still graduated with honors and was somehow considered the "golden child" of my hometown. I could do no wrong
That sentiment has kept me alive. I don't know why; obviously I can do wrong but I don't believe it. Out of all my attempts - including a shotgun to the head where the hammer miraculously (?) failed - I'm still here. And I'm still somehow doing really really well. So I drink. I don't drink to get drunk. I don't drink cheap shit; I drink nice things that taste good because if I drank the cheap shit then I wouldn't enjoy it right? I don't think I'm an alcoholic but that could just be me justifying my actions. I don't care. I'm still here and doing well.
And depression is just one thing I live with