Down the Rabbit Hole

Alice in Wonderland

Alice in Wonderland

I can’t tell you the last time I was actually depressed. Its been awhile for sure. While I was  cleaning the house today, I finally realized why I’ve been so sluggish lately. I have been a little under the weather since I left work. But, there is a difference between the blah feelings of fighting off a cold and the tell tale signs of, my good old friend, depression. So, as much as I hate to admit it–I need to.

Depression affects everything. My writing, my social life and most certainly my ability to function on a professional level–not that my writing career is really soaring or anything. Still, getting up and out of bed has a pretty high correlation to productivity. It’s likely the reason I haven’t been sleeping too well lately (though last night wasn’t too bad–which, come to think of it, could have been the cough syrup–Codeine’s good stuff.

I’ve lost weight–not a ton, but enough. My appetite sucks. I look awful; pale, lackluster complexion and dark circles under my eyes. What’s worse, is that I am already on an antidepressant, though it isn’t for depression. It’s for Trigeminal Neuralgia (long story). I think part of it, is that I didn’t see myself here at 28. I thought things would be different by now. I’m not normally this translucent or vulnerable in blog posts, but everyone’s got to confess sometime, right? I suppose this is mine. My heart is broken. And its broken deeper than I thought. I haven’t really written much more than a few paragraphs or a few drafted ideas in nearly two months. I know that my sadness has to do with my lack of really spending time with my passion (articles don’t count for me as writing), but its a vicious cycle. You would think it would be easy enough to sink into another world when I have so staggeringly little interest in this one, but it’s not that simple. When I was in Jr. High, it was…but not now. And there isn’t enough codeine in the world to make that pain go away. There isn’t enough alcohol or Saturday morning cartoons, or pictures of better days or songs on the radio.

I’m not usually a fan of weepy, emotional writing. I grew out of that when I left freshman year in college. But, my guts feel like they’ve been ripped out. And there is just this big hollow place left. I don’t want to hear about God, or how much Jesus loves me. I know all of that. I’m tired of cliche answers. There simply isn’t anything to say. Sometimes life hurts. Period. This is one of those times. Even Christ allowed people to suffer–wasn’t Peter stoned and crucified upside down? Just in case anyone was contemplating telling me how God doesn’t want me to feel this way. I think he’s got  bigger things to deal with than my petty issues. I don’t need to pray for God’s wisdom on what eye shadow I need to wear tomorrow–I’m not one of those people. I was long, long ago. But after getting burnt enough, you realize that religion and holiness have nearly nothing to do with each other.

Is it really darkest before the dawn? I heard that somewhere. I feel a little like Alice, and I keep waiting for a rabbit to follow–for something to change, but it never really will, will it? Childhood is over. My friend and I often lament how things have so changed since we were younger. How did we become so bitter?

Caterpillar: Who are YOU?
Alice: This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. I — I hardly know, sir, just at present — at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.

The Duchess:
I quite agree with you. And the moral of that is: Be what you would seem to be, or if you’d like it put more simply: Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared to them to be otherwise.

Alice: But I don’t want to go among mad people.
The Cat: Oh, you can’t help that. We’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.
Alice: How do you know I’m mad?
The Cat: You must be. Or you wouldn’t have come here.
Alice: And how do you know that you’re mad?
The Cat: To begin with, a dog’s not mad. You grant that?
Alice: I suppose so,
The Cat: Well, then, you see, a dog growls when it’s angry, and wags its tail when it’s pleased. Now I growl when I’m pleased, and wag my tail when I’m angry. Therefore I’m mad.

Alice: I’ve had nothing yet, so I can’t take more.
The Hatter: You mean you can’t take less; it’s very easy to take more than nothing.

The White Queen: Can you do addition? What’s one and one and one and one and one and one and one and one and one and one?
Alice: I don’t know. I lost count.

Alice: And how many hours a day did you do lessons?
The Mock Turtle: Ten hours the first day, nine the next, and so on.
Alice: What a curious plan!
The Gryphon: That’s the reason they’re called lessons, because they lessen from day to day.

So, there it is…my thoughts for the day. If you are here from facebook and feel generous enough to comment, please, please do so at the blog itself. http://www.jschancellor.wordpress.com  (besides, the blog looks cooler)

quotes taken from about.com

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2 responses

  1. I think something that a lot of “normal” people don’t understand about depression is that it isn’t just being sad. Sad is nothing. Sad is in response to something, and when the something goes away, so does the sadness. Depression is that feeling of hopelessness and sleeplessness and general grayness that comes up for no reason at all and doesn’t go away just because the sun is shining or your dog licked your hand or your favorite song came on the radio. For me, the worst part of depression is that there’s just no reason for it. There are no specific circumstances that caused it, so there’s nothing I can change to make it go away, and so I have no hope of fixing it.

    And the other worst thing about depression is the way everyone tries to help you out of it, trying to cheer you up and telling you how many blessings you have in life and telling you to just pray through it. Yeah, I know how blessed I am, and the fact that I can think about that and still feel like my heart is being pulled out my chest through my navel only makes things worse. And the praying? Also not good, because when I pray and nothing gets better, I start to lose faith.

    One thing that I tell myself over and over when I get that way is “it goes away, it goes away, it goes away.” Not because I actually think it will–it feels like it’s going to drown me until I’m dead, and that’s not something that goes away. But intellectually, I know that I have been there before and it did go away, and that fact is basically all I have to hold onto to stay upright.

    So that’s just me turning a post about you into a post about me, hopefully making you feel a little less alone, if “alone” is part of the problem.

    (Oh, and do pet your dog. It may not do anything for you, but he likes it.)

  2. Yeah, it does make me feel less alone. Thank you. (Aubie, the lab pictured–who I let onto the bed after I read your post, says thank you too…)

    It’s nice to be reminded that it will pass. Hearing it from someone else makes it more reachable somehow. Don’t ask me why. And I agree, there isn’t anything specific that is causing this. In fact, as a couple friends have pointed out, “you have what you wanted, so what’s wrong?”

    Well, for starters, it wasn’t HOW I wanted it. And if I had my way I would be writing my novels full time, not articles on renting cars in Bangladash. But, again, they don’t get it. They’ve never felt like this before.

    Thank you for commenting. It’s nice to know someone understands. And it pointed me to your blog, which made me smile (the Kelly Clarkson thing was darkly entertaining…and sad. But, still funny in it’s own way).

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