.. Waves? What waves?
.. There once was a time when I’d get a little depressed at this time of year. I called it “falling into a Blue Funk”. Nothing major, nothing drastic.
.. Fall, winter, cold, snow, the anniversary of my 1st wife’s death… these things would sneak up on me and deliver a subtle whammy to my psyche and down I’d go. A couple of years back I went thru a time of insanity that made me realize I needed to be more aware of my mental / emotional state before I tumbled down.
.. Since then, I’ve been able to see the signs and work well enuff on myself to avoid any type of crash. This year, tho’, I’m riding waves.
.. This time around it really isn’t the waves, or crests of the waves, that are giving me troubles. It’s the troughs between the waves.
.. It all reminds me of a session when I was in treatment for my addiction. One class described the ups and downs (or waves) of an active addict. The addict uses drugs and gets high (thus, the “up” or crest of the wave). Then the addict comes down off the drug and ends up in a trough. It takes just a little more drugs than the 1st round to get back to that desired high. And then the trough afterwards is a little deeper.
.. The cycle is repeated to the point where the addict wants the high, but is using (and abusing) drugs more to just get to that level of normalcy before it all began.
.. Lately, I’ve been going up and down in my depressions. No longer are they Blue Funks. These times of madness are getting worser and seriouser. I’m losing sleep because of my shoulder pain problems, and my brain searches out various scenarios of calamity to occupy my thinking as I lie in bed. Just read my past bloggs for an indication of the up & down.
.. Couple that up with some down-right nutty reminiscing of events in my far distant past (ie. childhood actions that I suppose must hold some kind guilt for). But, it isn’t all childhood memories. There are things that I did as a teenager, as a young adult, as a father, a husband, a man. Little, inconsequential things that make me wonder, “Where the heck did that come from??!!”
.. And I don’t know. I do know that I’m becoming increasingly more despondent on top of being depressed. What’s the phrase in NA? “Hopeless and Helpless”? I’m getting lost in my confusion over where my life is heading. Physically ailing, emotionally distraught at times, psychologically inept at trying to put a halt to it all.
.. Meetings where I can’t share because I feel that no one would understand. And maybe they wouldn’t. This isn’t about drugs, wanting to use or abuse them. Hell, I’m not even suicidal here, not that the thought hasn’t crossed my mind once in a while.
.. Drugs won’t cure the depression. They’d only exacerbate the problem to where I’d be that addict in the deep trough, struggling to just to get up to an even level.
.. Suicide might just cure my current problems, but then I’d miss out on all the rest of my life. And that would be a complete waste. Besides, I’ve seen what suicide does to people. It really messes them up. Some people for a very long time, people like me. The person who opts for permanent vacation doesn’t have to deal with the aftermath of their action. It’s all the folk who loved and cared and worried over that person who are forced into it.
.. I don’t want to do either. Shit (and pardon the language here, hm?), I’m fucked up as it is. I don’t want to throw this onto anyone!
.. There’s another phrase in NA that keeps coming to mind.
“… sought help through medicine, religion, and psychiatry. None of these methods was sufficient for us.“
NA has given me a lot in my years of recovery. But, I tend to forget the above phrase and how it is written. Especially the last sentence, “None of these methods was sufficient for us.” That is the key. Sufficient. It doesn’t mean that those other things didn’t help us in our addiction (and subsequent actions whilst in it), only that it wasn’t sufficient.
.. I saw my doctor last week and we talked a bit about my depression. She was willing to refer me to a psychiatrist, to which I responded with an adamant NO! The last time I went that route, the doctor I saw chatted me up for about 20 minutes, diagnosed me with depression, and filled out a ‘script for anti-depressants. One for the depression and one to get me to sleep. Thus, I am biased against psychiatry as a forum for legal drug dealing.
.. Religion? Well, I have a deep and trusting belief in my God and organized religion is not a part of that. My God is with me wherever I go, and I don’t need a church to discover a deeper understanding.
.. As far as medecine goes, well, I’m in Canada. Medical procedures and tests take (a lot!) of time. I’m skedded for an MRI on my shoulder based on a cancellation list >perhaps the only good thing being unemployed!<. I'll be having tests for Carpal Tunnel Syndrome and a neurologist exploring my shakes du jour (and maybe a better diagnoses of my light-headedness??). I've had X-rays and blood tests and urine tests and a little bit of physio, none of which gave me any relief or understanding of what's going on with this body o' mine. Anyway, medicine is in the mix. .. So, do I go to a shrink? Should I start attending church again (after decades away)? .. Maybe I'll try the psychiatric way first. I'm not working anyway, so being whacked out in the morning from drugs the night before won't interfere with my job, since I ain't gots one no how. Maybe it'll give me regular nights of "sleep". As opposed to tossing & turning in pain and staying up every second or third night. .. Like tonight. It's now 2:50 a.m., EST. I could attempt to go shut eye right now, but all I'd end up doing is sleeping most of the daytime away. And daytime is running pretty danged short right about now. And that would be another waste!
.. What to do? What to do? I used that as a title for one of my other blogg entrys (check it out for examples of extreme waah-boohoo!). Maybe I’m still trying to figure it all out. At least (!!), I’m still alive and clean today. That has GOT to count for something, right?!
Keep The Faith*
