depression – Upon this Rock

Skeletons from way back

Over this past weekend my younger kiddo received some news that wasn’t what she expected. It was a heart-breaking soul crushing experience for her. As if all the hard work she’s put in for so long and the things everyone has been telling her came out to be untrue. She was crushed upset and vacillated between moody teen and sobbing child. The idea and message that the universe is in control of things doesn’t really resonate with an upset teenager. As her dad I sat by helpless doing what I could but really, all I can do is listen, give her space to process her emotions and give her hugs, kisses on the head and backrubs.

All of that stated, I found myself angry. Angry that my child was hurting, helpless that I could do anything to alleviate the pain and looking for a reason to go off on someone. Thankfully, there was no explosion. Maybe some terse words between thing two and I but for the most part it was ok. I bring this up because earlier in the week I was speaking with my guy, Jimmy Garrison, and he pointed out my tendency to expect shit to go sideways. By sideways, I mean for things to go wrong or not right or something pop up that I will have to endure. (y’all familiar with the concept of duality will take issue with my right/wrong declarations)

This past Christmas I had a lovely and wonderful trip abroad with my love. There came a point when she was upset about things that were completely out of her control and she was crying and hurting, not unlike my thing 2 this week. In reflection, I was myself not in my best frame of mind, while I was surrounded by people I love and adore, I was feeling alone to an extent. When my love became upset, I reacted in a similar way, I became angry and discontented. This anger I think drove me into an interaction between the two of us that wasn’t nice. It turned into a day full of disconnection and, interestingly enough a physical response I haven’t had since I went through my divorce. In the end, the outcome was a stronger bond and better understanding between us, but the journey to get to that place could have done without about 18-24 hours of each of us feeling hurt and worrying about things.

What I’m wondering now is if this feeling of ‘lack of control’ and ‘anger’ is really fear left over from when I was a little boy in a chaotic household. Usually, it was my dad I’d be watching and managing, sometimes, my older brother, sometimes it was dancing between the storms of what seems like my older brother, sister and dad. These storms held emotional, verbal or physical abuse. In my family, words were used as weapons in the way that hands were used to whack you a good one. If I try and take an unbiased view of how my siblings and I, we each managed to find a coping mechanism, be it control, being an authoritarian or what I do, which is crack a joke to disarm folks and get them laughing. I’m good at being empathetic to others and I’m starting to wonder if this empathy isn’t a coping mechanism to help me figure out where the threats are in any given room. Is it fear and not empathy? It’s like sometimes there’s a switch that comes into play that is all about self-preservation rather than anything else. By identifying the potential danger and disarming it by becoming empathetic to that person, I somehow keep myself safe. This fear based coping mechanism is good (or works) until it isn’t. As good as my life is right now, as centered as it is, sometimes it’s not and I lose my balance. When that happens, all hell can break loose.

Time and time again, I have examples of times in my life where I have been fearful, and it’s manifested itself into anger. I lash out and then feel badly afterwards. Hiding behind anger is easier than being left vulnerable to be hurt maybe. This anger in retrospect doesn’t feel so great. It’s what was done to me as a kid, and the one thing I didn’t want to pass on to my kids, and yet – somehow, I am positive I have. Once I figure this out for me, it’s going to be imperative that I figure it out for them too (or at least try to share with them and apologize.)

All this is great theory, but the events of this week coupled with the disagreement I had with my love a month ago leads me to wonder if it’s not all fear. When those people I love as much as anything in the world are hurting, I become able to cope to an extent, add one more stressor and I lose my ability to do anything except look inward and fall victim to the voices and stories in my head. So now I have more work to do. I’m going to have to have a head-to-head interaction with the thing I am most fearful of. I guess this is as good a time as any to do it. I have the unwavering support of my love and a safe space to do more work. It would feel good if my unsinkable optimism was always natural and the lingering expectation of something going sideways just went away. This is the work I guess. More work on accepting the person who looks back at me in the mirror. My love once told me to stop looking in the mirror if I don’t like that person. She’s smarter than I am and sweeter too than this salty bastard.

So there you go – deep and not so deep thoughts from someone who is still trying to figure it out. It feels like the answer is close enough, every time Jimmy and I get close, I back away and protect myself again. I want so much to put this away and get to the other side of it. It’s like 90% of the time I’m good, but the 10% causes more trouble than it’s worth.

In the meantime, I’ll continue to try to be kind to myself and others while doing the work and continuing to be empathetic for those people who need care and love. I hope if you’re reading this you can do the same. We need more kindness and love in the world.

Ambien w/Whiskey or Lead….???

Iceberg

I’ve found myself suffering as of late, while this isn’t any new news, it is different in how it’s manifested itself. When I started writing here, it was an exercise to get my feelings out in a manner whereby I felt a little better after writing along with the hopes that my insights might help someone else along the way, just enough to know they weren’t alone. In this case, I have never felt more alone while not being alone. Writing serves as an outlet but not the relief it has been in the past. It is a head scratcher.

The suffering in this case feels like being suspended in water, somewhat able to breath, somewhat able to hear. My vision for some reason seems to be impaired. Naps and deep breathing help somewhat, but I’m unsettled. In my chatting with my therapist, he just says, “Peter, you are depressed.” I keep pushing back on him in terms of trying medication again, not because I’m anti-medication, but because while I can’t quite feel as well as I wish and know I can, I know the medication will give me a temporary reprieve and then dull things again. Emotions are good – I don’t mind having them. For the first time in a long while I seem disconnected from them. As I have indicated here depressed is as Jim Carry says, is your body’s need for ‘deep rest.’ I find a bit of solace in knowing that my frequent naps and need for extra sleep are just my body’s way to find the deep rest it needs. I’m hoping the cooler weather as we roll into the fall will help me to get moving – as they say – 30 minutes of vigorous exercise is worth so and so many milligrams of anti-depressant. I’m not trying to be stubborn in this respect, but rather, find a more natural means of dealing with it.

So why Ambien or Lead? A month ago, around the time of my last post, I was contemplating joining Tony and my dad, I was beyond upset, I was staring down into the abyss and trying to find a way to make the pain go away. My choices – an ounce and a quarter of #6 Federal Birdshot or 10 Ambien washed down with a nice, very rare, hard to get whiskey. The issue is my shotgun has a 28″ Barrel – it’s a reach… guess that’s a good thing – I knew what I was doing when I bought it! Obviously, this post is written in the middle of August, so I am still here and very much of this world. Although, I’ll confess here, it is a weekly if not a daily struggle for me.

It occurs to me – you may, if you’re this far, asked yourself – Tony? Who’s Tony? Mr. Bourdain who is unfortunately not with us any longer. A person I admired, a ‘famous person’ I would have been very unlikely to meet if he had endured on this earth. If you ever watched his show, and you too are like me, depressed, you start to recognize where he was in a very quiet, self effacing way, showing us his depression. When his death was made public, I wasn’t surprised, as it had been right there all the time. I feel in some ways, similar to him in that the worthlessness I feel is driven down. After a lifetime of doing this, it becomes very second nature. Unless you know what to look for, you’d never know. In my idea of heaven – if I get there, I can finally catch up with Tony and have a beer and just exchange ideas. I’m honestly not in any hurry to get there – I just want the pain to go away. The suffering and the weight are starting to wear on what’s left of my sanity.

What so far has kept me on this side of the world, is somewhat twofold – my ex – will receive a windfall should my demise come before our agreement comes to pass – I refuse to line her pocket more than I already am. The other one is my children – I worry they might not understand how I could leave them – although the big one is off to college and doesn’t seem inclined to include me in her life, the little one might not show the level of interest, but her kindness might suffer and while I sit here in a great deal of pain, I refuse to hurt either of them more than I have.

In reviewing this post – it doesn’t seem very salty – it seems bitter and reflective of my general mood.

Confusion…..

Roughly 30-45 days ago there was an upset in the force – after a prolonged period of unhappiness I made a change, decided not feeling was as bad as feeling too much. Since then, I reduced and removed my meds (with physician oversight!) as well as removed alcohol from my daily regimen. I’ve added activity in the area of going to the gym and have become much more active socially. All good things…..

So then – why all the confusion? Right now I’m blaming this on coming off the medication. I’m up and down, happy one minute, anxious the next – is it the medicine? Is it me? Is it all the mistakes I’ve made along the way which got me here? I really don’t know. My kids tell me I’m grumpy (gee – dad doesn’t like being ignored and has grown a spine), my ex-wife vaccilates between being a co-parent and beating me up for my past transgressions (you know – I’m a two-timing, 24/7 lying philanderer who should be lucky I get to enjoy my children and put food on the table). There are several different narratives going through my mind in quick succession, each gives me pause, because of the way my thought process works I have this need to evaluate each one then move on. It’s a noisy place in my brain.

One of the things I’m not entirely sure of is when the meds fully go away if my brain will allow me to get back to the tranquil place I was before I started to not feel – or if I will return to this place where I am anxious all the time. I don’t think that’s the case and I will return to crazy land. Nearly 2 years of therapy has helped me to recognize when things don’t feel quite right, the work (and the reading – oh the reading!) has allowed me to understand to give myself a break and share with someone safe how I’m feeling. All that said. I often times find myself falling back into the belief that …’maybe I’m too much, maybe I’m too weak, maybe I’m too sensitive…’ which then again allows me to let others take advantage of my own shame.

It’s going to be an interesting ride the next couple weeks as the meds leave my system and I try to find my own point of equilibrium. I hope for anyone who may read this they understand the need to endure and move forward through the questions and trusting your gut. For me – I’m going to see where this goes. If I have to go back on a little meds – so be it – although a part of me wonders if with the right support, love and understanding if growth without meds isn’t the better way for me.

Stay salty my dear friends…..