Hey! I'm Ken. I'm a guy in his late 40's who has been fighting severe depression and anxiety for 8+ years.

I have an enemy named stigma who is not nice! My way of sticking it to him is writing my thoughts and experiences with my mental illness striving to smash down the walls he creates.

Kick back and read away. These are my experiences and mine alone. If you agree, awesome. If you disagree, awesome ... just don't fuel the stigma beast! My desire is that sharing these thoughts offers some help to those that are in the fight as well.

Sunday, January 17, 2016

What Happens When 2+2 Doesn't Equal 4 Anymore?

Yep, I have to admit that in Elementary School I had a deep love for math. Most of my friends at that time would say "lunch" or "recess" was their favorite subject. I would say that too if there were any cute girls around, but truth be told I loved math. I actually looked forward to "larger" problems. Bring on the four digit or five digit long division! That's right, I said long division. No calculator or anything. There was a guy in my class that had a calculator watch, which was cool in theory, but when he let me take a look at it and try it, those buttons were just too small. So on came Junior High and I was taught that the letters "x" and "y" wanted to participate in math. A little weird, but it all worked out. As I climbed the educational ladder, my love for math started to decline quickly. It seems like the whole alphabet wanted to participate in math and numerous "laws of math" came in the picture too. I think numbers got the raw end of the deal. Letters seemed a bit like a bully. I mean when do you see numbers becoming part of a word. Sure they are part of codes and things, but you don't see a word like 7hello5. It may give truer meaning, one may say. What about pronouncing it? Well of course, the numbers are silent, one may answer. Really? Oh and my absolute favorite reasoning by a teacher to do math, "You will use this on later in life." Most of the painful theorems and laws ... not so much for me! Now I know that many folks use math in their careers and that the "laws of math" have helped create incredible improvements in life. That's cool. For some, it bogs down and clogs the reasoning of math and for me at times even question if 2+2 truly equaled 4 or if some letters could be used to even give more meaning.

I miss being happy. I truly have learned to appreciate in a profound way the emotion and feeling of happiness. Before mental illness set in I was asked a lot why I was happy. That and being called "mam" in the drive through a lot ... that will have to be another story. When asked why I was so happy, I really didn't have an answer, except that I loved life. It was that simple. Sure, I feel happiness now ... mostly spotty glimpses, some longer than others and I believe there are numerous reasons why. Anxiety and Depression are always unwelcome guests that show up whenever they want and don't politely tell you when they will leave. When they come, it's so much more about being sad. I read the other day one of the best descriptions about the feelings and emotions they bring. It's like the feeling when you trip losing your balance and you don't know if you are going to regain your balance or fall and get seriously injured ... that feeling of despair. Then throw on the feeling that every decision you make carries the heavy weight of it being life or death ... that permanent. When I began fighting Depression and Anxiety I felt like I was doing something wrong putting my life out of sorts. I wasn't happy so I must being doing something wrong. I would evaluate my life and think about the things that make me happy. I would go through every single one and couldn't find happiness. I even made sure my life was in order with my Maker and still no happiness. It had to be me and man I must have really messed up if I'm not feeling happiness with my Maker. That was and is the one truth I always hang my hat on ... and if that starts to shake, well let me just say the word despair doesn't give it any justice of meaning.

Man, I really painted quite the uplifting picture there, but mental illness isn't about feeling uplifted though. I don't have all the answers, but I can say that I've learned to know that when despair and darkness come from my depression and consumes me, it's not my fault! If you are fighting mental illness, please know that those feelings of darkness are not because of you! Mental illness is just that .,. it's an illness. Give yourself a break of feeling responsible! When you do so, it doesn't mean that "poof" it's gone, but I can tell you for me it's allowed me to focus more on spending the energy on coping and working through it. And sometimes coping is taking everything down to just the basics. For me it's I'm human and have a Maker above. Even this though is just a fight in itself. But that fight is worth it! As in any fight you get kicked around and beaten up, but there are also moments when you are winning! When you're winning enjoy those moments of happiness! If you keep fighting you begin to learn through experience about the demons of depression and how to handle their different strategies. There is no time clock on this though! It's different for everyone. Yet, through the experience of the fighting means more glimpses of happiness. There may be days, weeks or even months between these glimpses, but they come! Oh, the fight is real and I know it's a brutal fight that no one really sees. At first I wanted to have it all figured out and fixed in one day and really still have that desire when I get frustrated, but it's overwhelming. Starting the day with taking it back to the basics and even doing that 10, 20 30+ times a day is helping me learn how to cope ... not get rid of, but cope. For me I'm finding that when I focus more on coping and not focus on fixing "this" or getting rid of "that" , there are more glimpses of happiness.  

1 comment:

  1. Profound statement: "I've learned to know that when despair and darkness come from my depression and consumes me, it's not my fault!"

    Exactly! People who blame the person for having a mental illness don't get it. It's like telling a woman, "It's your fault for having breast cancer."

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