Friday 11 July 2014

DonRocko vs. Depression

Warning: Serious post is serious. Again. I apologize.

Some people call it a struggle, but I’ve always likened my battle with depression to a prize fight with an infinite number of rounds.
Some rounds I am able to stick, move and jab – landing just enough to keep me ahead on the scorecard.
Some rounds it goes the other way.
These past couple of rounds, though, have been real bad – Depression landed some heavy, heavy body blows, leaving me winded and bruised. Times like this I just have to focus on staying on my feet, avoiding the knockout and hoping that once the bell rings, I’ve got good cut-men/women in my corner to help stem the bleeding.
It’s a pretty good analogy, I think.

Not that there are a lot of ‘good’ things about depression, but one thing I hate the most is the way it can make others around me feel. My wife sees me crying, asks “What’s wrong?” and I honestly don’t know how to respond.
That segues nicely into another gripe I have – the way your brain revolts and decides to take everything out of context. Honestly - how do you explain that you’re crying about your cat who died 10 years ago because your brain just decided that’s how it was going to torture you at this given moment? Or how a wonderful song about walking in the Australian wilderness, carrying lanterns to light your way becomes less literal and more metaphorical – and how, no matter how hard you try, you are just unable to see any light at the moment. You'll even catch yourself briefly and you *know* it's illogical, but it doesn't matter. It's frustrating, so you start hating how you feel - which, in turn, makes you more depressed. Spirals, man. They're the worst kind of pasta.
I realize that writing this down won’t do much. It’s cathartic, certainly. And it represents a little growth on my part – feeling confident enough that I can share this, knowing that I’m opening myself up to (perceived) ridicule. I also know that this is the sort of thing I’ll *never* post on Facebook. I worry too much about my mom to have her worrying about me, if that makes sense.
So I’m sorry for not writing any film-reviews lately (Dawn of the Planet of the Apes is *incredible*, FYI). At the moment, I’m just going to keep going out there every round and do my best to keep punching.

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