Yesterday, I had a very reasonable day. I almost fixed a significant computer problem, I completed a long distance run (for the first time for a while), I played a good amount of music, seeing significant improvements, and I learned a new important piece - surprisingly easy.
And then something happened that made the following thoughts appear:
- OK, you completed the 10k, but you should have done 11.5, and much faster. You used to be able to do that. So you are rubbish in fact!
- OK, you found what may have been a problem with this laptop, but you have not fixed it yet, and it took you several weeks. Nothing to be proud of!
- You are ridiculous with this music, it takes you so much time, and you could be doing something sensible in that time. You are too old to become a musician, you should have been thinking of it when you were 14.
I managed to control these thoughts throughout the day. I m still not sure what triggered them yesterday, but I managed to make them silent.
But the monsters reappeared at 4 am. I cannot remember what the dreams were about, the key theme was failure though.
So, I will start a new day, to see if I can fight them better.
Monday 30 September 2013
Sunday 29 September 2013
Emotional adventures of just one day
I am going to tell you know what can happen with my emotions in just one day, these seems to present my "hot buttons" perfectly.
I went to to an optician yesterday, for the first time in 15 years. (I have always had some problems with my sight, but it was OK to cope without any corrective glasses; only recently my age has added to that challenge and I though that it may be good to do something about it). So I went to a "posh" eye care centre, because my family used to go there before. It was a nicely presenting practice, with convenient waiting area, I was being offered coffee while waiting. The reception ladies were a bit earnest, but I managed to disarm them with some humour interwoven in the conversation while they were registering me as a patient. My nose smelled something potentially wrong there, but my reason told my intuition to shut up, as there was no evidence, and I may have been getting paranoic.
Then a lovely young lady came to ask some details, and took me to a dark room to check the basic eyesight, intraocular pressure, photos of the fundus, etc. I connected to her right away, and it was a pleasure (so far).
And then I was taken to the doctor's office. He appeared a few minutes later, and that was the end of the nice day. First, the way he looked was disgusting. He was not dirty, but just the way he dressed and groomed - I am not sure if I can describe it properly, but he looked as if he did not care. Everything was in brownish-beige colour, and looked as if unpressed and worn out. His hair was uncut recently, and overall he gave me an impression of a man that had no control or vision of himself (do not get me wrong - I am completely not into trends or labels, or excessive grooming, I would not mind him not being shaved as long as it all as it was a part of his style). So I thought, well, maybe it is his style, let's see. He may be a great person.
And then he started speaking to me. He spoke to be as if I were a complete idiot, using his standard script, and explaining things as one would perhaps to a 5-year old child (even that could be done better). He spoke about a few options, and I said I wanted to try one, so he went somewhere, brought a pair of contact lenses, put them in my eyes. My distant vision was perfect, but my near vision became horrible. He said that I needed reading glasses. When I told him that I would prefer progressive contact lenses, because I do not want to be bothered with glasses, he said they did not have them. I knew they were available, but he apparently did not care. I felt unconvinced. I felt ignored, and that no one wanted to really listen to my needs and help me there. Then he clearly wanted to go, because he asked if I had any other questions in such way that left me no doubt. I told that to the ladies who were teaching me how to put the lenses into my eyes and how to take them out, they tried to remedy that by not charging me for the lenses. Of course, it helped, but I was so angry - I wasted several hours of time and did not get what I wanted.
I checked once again on line, and the progressive lenses I wanted seemed to be available. On the way back home, my wife had an idea that we go to Costco, as they had very nice optical department there with good prices. So we did.
Of course, at Costco one does not get the luxuries of the 'posh' opticians. But when I explained what I was interested in, the lady who was helping me asked the manager. And that was a fantastic experience. The lady checked their catalogues, explained to me in detail what can be available, that they have to order the lenses for fitting, etc. She was friendly, nice, connecting personally to me and my wife, genuinly interested. A whole different approach to customer service. I was so glad about going there. I ordered a pair of glasses too.
I do not need to tell you who my optician will most likely be going forward.
The reason I am writing about it here is to show you how my emotions went through a full swing, from being disappointed, angry and desperate, to being happy and satisfied. I have been through similar situations many times in my life, and I was always trying to ignore any emotions underneath and just suck it up and stay with my initial choice, especially when it was based on some logic and reason. After a while, my emotions would explode. Yesterday I did something simple and different - I did not express my anger and did not expect others to change, but I just managed it myself by actively changing the circumstances.
It also showed me how important it is for me to interact in a personal way that suits me. The ability to connect personally to the staff at Costco, receiving their full attention and quality information, is worth 100x more than the velvet sofas of the waiting area at the posh eye care centre.
But there must be people who value the latter more - otherwise that business would have no customers? I would be curious to listen to your views.
I went to to an optician yesterday, for the first time in 15 years. (I have always had some problems with my sight, but it was OK to cope without any corrective glasses; only recently my age has added to that challenge and I though that it may be good to do something about it). So I went to a "posh" eye care centre, because my family used to go there before. It was a nicely presenting practice, with convenient waiting area, I was being offered coffee while waiting. The reception ladies were a bit earnest, but I managed to disarm them with some humour interwoven in the conversation while they were registering me as a patient. My nose smelled something potentially wrong there, but my reason told my intuition to shut up, as there was no evidence, and I may have been getting paranoic.
Then a lovely young lady came to ask some details, and took me to a dark room to check the basic eyesight, intraocular pressure, photos of the fundus, etc. I connected to her right away, and it was a pleasure (so far).
And then I was taken to the doctor's office. He appeared a few minutes later, and that was the end of the nice day. First, the way he looked was disgusting. He was not dirty, but just the way he dressed and groomed - I am not sure if I can describe it properly, but he looked as if he did not care. Everything was in brownish-beige colour, and looked as if unpressed and worn out. His hair was uncut recently, and overall he gave me an impression of a man that had no control or vision of himself (do not get me wrong - I am completely not into trends or labels, or excessive grooming, I would not mind him not being shaved as long as it all as it was a part of his style). So I thought, well, maybe it is his style, let's see. He may be a great person.
And then he started speaking to me. He spoke to be as if I were a complete idiot, using his standard script, and explaining things as one would perhaps to a 5-year old child (even that could be done better). He spoke about a few options, and I said I wanted to try one, so he went somewhere, brought a pair of contact lenses, put them in my eyes. My distant vision was perfect, but my near vision became horrible. He said that I needed reading glasses. When I told him that I would prefer progressive contact lenses, because I do not want to be bothered with glasses, he said they did not have them. I knew they were available, but he apparently did not care. I felt unconvinced. I felt ignored, and that no one wanted to really listen to my needs and help me there. Then he clearly wanted to go, because he asked if I had any other questions in such way that left me no doubt. I told that to the ladies who were teaching me how to put the lenses into my eyes and how to take them out, they tried to remedy that by not charging me for the lenses. Of course, it helped, but I was so angry - I wasted several hours of time and did not get what I wanted.
I checked once again on line, and the progressive lenses I wanted seemed to be available. On the way back home, my wife had an idea that we go to Costco, as they had very nice optical department there with good prices. So we did.
Of course, at Costco one does not get the luxuries of the 'posh' opticians. But when I explained what I was interested in, the lady who was helping me asked the manager. And that was a fantastic experience. The lady checked their catalogues, explained to me in detail what can be available, that they have to order the lenses for fitting, etc. She was friendly, nice, connecting personally to me and my wife, genuinly interested. A whole different approach to customer service. I was so glad about going there. I ordered a pair of glasses too.
I do not need to tell you who my optician will most likely be going forward.
The reason I am writing about it here is to show you how my emotions went through a full swing, from being disappointed, angry and desperate, to being happy and satisfied. I have been through similar situations many times in my life, and I was always trying to ignore any emotions underneath and just suck it up and stay with my initial choice, especially when it was based on some logic and reason. After a while, my emotions would explode. Yesterday I did something simple and different - I did not express my anger and did not expect others to change, but I just managed it myself by actively changing the circumstances.
It also showed me how important it is for me to interact in a personal way that suits me. The ability to connect personally to the staff at Costco, receiving their full attention and quality information, is worth 100x more than the velvet sofas of the waiting area at the posh eye care centre.
But there must be people who value the latter more - otherwise that business would have no customers? I would be curious to listen to your views.
Saturday 28 September 2013
Brilliant afternoon
Yesterday I had a fantastic afternoon. Something I had been working on, in my own way, somewhat against the normal work flow in my company, brought a great result. All the work was done in a way which was very much consistent with my values - in a quiet, respectful, persistent, creative, personal, customised process, without the pushy, aggressive, bullying troglodyte style that so many people present. That made me really proud, and must have impacted me profoundly - I went to play badminton games in a local club, same as each Friday, and I was gobsmacked with my own great performance.
I need more of these.
(P.S. The night monsters came at approx. 5 am, but I do not remember what they wanted).
I need more of these.
(P.S. The night monsters came at approx. 5 am, but I do not remember what they wanted).
Friday 27 September 2013
The Paradox
There are days like today, when I wake up (after dealing with the night monsters - they did not leave me alone to night), and I feel just great. My mind is clear, I feel energetic, and I am look forward to both what I have planned for the day, and to what will come as a surprise. I am now in a 'transitional' phase, trying to prevent (or delay), if possible, the return of a longer period of the Gloom. I would say I get perhaps one or two mornings like that every week.
So what is the paradox? The paradox is that I somehow do not feel like the same person as I used to be yesterday. I may have started a train of thought, I may have started writing about something, I may have started engaging into something (in order not to think about the bad mood), and it turned out quite interesting. But today, I do not seem to care about that stuff anymore, so I will probably leave those things unattended, and perhaps pick them up again when I am in a mood similar to the one I was when I started them. In the meantime, I will enjoy a brighter day and focus on something else, something that appears more important, and I had no energy yesterday to undertake.
To others, it may look like instability, but this is the paradox of my life. There are activities for cloudy days, and there are activities for sunny days. I wish the weather was the same every day.
But it is not.
So what is the paradox? The paradox is that I somehow do not feel like the same person as I used to be yesterday. I may have started a train of thought, I may have started writing about something, I may have started engaging into something (in order not to think about the bad mood), and it turned out quite interesting. But today, I do not seem to care about that stuff anymore, so I will probably leave those things unattended, and perhaps pick them up again when I am in a mood similar to the one I was when I started them. In the meantime, I will enjoy a brighter day and focus on something else, something that appears more important, and I had no energy yesterday to undertake.
To others, it may look like instability, but this is the paradox of my life. There are activities for cloudy days, and there are activities for sunny days. I wish the weather was the same every day.
But it is not.
Thursday 26 September 2013
Laughing at my own expectations
As I am not in too bad mood now (compared to several episodes I had in my life), I am able to take some distance to myself and my expectations. The expectations are very important, as they form the base for the negative thinking I experience when the bad mood kicks in. If I am not in the middle of severe episode, I can - to a degree - control them. For example, I can wake up in the morning with my head full of accusations against myself, but once I have taken a shower, have a cup of coffee, and can sit outside beathing in the fragrant air and listening to the music of light rain in concert with the crickets and morning birds, these self-destructive thouhgts seem to fade away a bit. This is exactly what is going on today.
But when I am in the middle of a fully blown bad mood episode, lasting for months, things are not so easy. Neither he birds, the rain, the crickets, nor anything else like thinking of my loving family or all the (little?) successes I did have in life, can suppress these thoughts.
Here is an example of the charges my internal plantiff will typically throw at me:
I have not graduated from Cambridge or Harvard or another great school, my son is not at Cambridge or Harvard or another great school, my son is not even at the best state school, my daughter gave up a musical instrument she was great at, my wife is fat, my wife does not want sex, I am too fat and have not managed to lose as much weight as I want, I drink a bottle of wine every Friday, I have not got a beautiful Victorian house in the UK, I have not got a beautiful house on the ocean, I do not leave in a great city that would allow me to go to concerts, opera or ballet shows, my wife does not run any business, I do not run any sensible business, I do work which is not my heart’s desire, I do not drive an Aston Martin, I cannot afford buying my wife a blue Ford Thunderbird for her birthday, I do not speak French, I do not speak Spanish, I do not speak Japanese, I did not learn Russian very well and now have problems reading in Russian, I do not play guitar perfectly, I do not play piano well, I do not play violin or cello or saxophone or clarinet or trombone at all, I forgot most of the calculus from school, I do not know statistics by heart and I need to put a lot of effort to understand some of it (with variable outcome), I cannot make probability calculations quickly in my mind, I do not have many friends, I do not care about my Mum the way I think I should and the way she expects it, I cannot ride a motorcycle (and do not own one), I have not learned how to fight with my fists or mastered any martial arts, I cannot play any sport really well, my swimming is just enough to survice but generally pathetic and I cannot do diving properly, I have not invented anything, I have not created anything that would sell well, I am not financially independent, I am not using my background education fully, I do not have a PhD, I am not in the C-suite of my company, I am not even if the second tier management, I cannot afford to take my family to dine out every weekend, I do not have a boat, I cannot afford to hire a boat whenever I like to, I have not read all classical literature that I would like to, I have not written a book, I have not written a poem, I have not created a popular website, I do not have James Bond personality, I am not controlling my eating 100%, I get tired in the afternoons, I get headaches, I get stomach aches, I am getting old, I get bored at (boring) meetings instead of showing enthusiasm and attention, I have no been born in a richh family, I have not married into a rich family, I have not been born in upper class in England, I have not married into upper class in England, I have not been knighted by the Queen...
I can probably continue adding the same amount every day. Ridiculuous, isn't it?
Looking at the above, there are things that I probaby could have achieved, and there are things I could not, and there are things I still can achieve. But even for the latter, I cannot achieve all of them.
So why am I beating myself on the head?
But when I am in the middle of a fully blown bad mood episode, lasting for months, things are not so easy. Neither he birds, the rain, the crickets, nor anything else like thinking of my loving family or all the (little?) successes I did have in life, can suppress these thoughts.
Here is an example of the charges my internal plantiff will typically throw at me:
I have not graduated from Cambridge or Harvard or another great school, my son is not at Cambridge or Harvard or another great school, my son is not even at the best state school, my daughter gave up a musical instrument she was great at, my wife is fat, my wife does not want sex, I am too fat and have not managed to lose as much weight as I want, I drink a bottle of wine every Friday, I have not got a beautiful Victorian house in the UK, I have not got a beautiful house on the ocean, I do not leave in a great city that would allow me to go to concerts, opera or ballet shows, my wife does not run any business, I do not run any sensible business, I do work which is not my heart’s desire, I do not drive an Aston Martin, I cannot afford buying my wife a blue Ford Thunderbird for her birthday, I do not speak French, I do not speak Spanish, I do not speak Japanese, I did not learn Russian very well and now have problems reading in Russian, I do not play guitar perfectly, I do not play piano well, I do not play violin or cello or saxophone or clarinet or trombone at all, I forgot most of the calculus from school, I do not know statistics by heart and I need to put a lot of effort to understand some of it (with variable outcome), I cannot make probability calculations quickly in my mind, I do not have many friends, I do not care about my Mum the way I think I should and the way she expects it, I cannot ride a motorcycle (and do not own one), I have not learned how to fight with my fists or mastered any martial arts, I cannot play any sport really well, my swimming is just enough to survice but generally pathetic and I cannot do diving properly, I have not invented anything, I have not created anything that would sell well, I am not financially independent, I am not using my background education fully, I do not have a PhD, I am not in the C-suite of my company, I am not even if the second tier management, I cannot afford to take my family to dine out every weekend, I do not have a boat, I cannot afford to hire a boat whenever I like to, I have not read all classical literature that I would like to, I have not written a book, I have not written a poem, I have not created a popular website, I do not have James Bond personality, I am not controlling my eating 100%, I get tired in the afternoons, I get headaches, I get stomach aches, I am getting old, I get bored at (boring) meetings instead of showing enthusiasm and attention, I have no been born in a richh family, I have not married into a rich family, I have not been born in upper class in England, I have not married into upper class in England, I have not been knighted by the Queen...
I can probably continue adding the same amount every day. Ridiculuous, isn't it?
Looking at the above, there are things that I probaby could have achieved, and there are things I could not, and there are things I still can achieve. But even for the latter, I cannot achieve all of them.
So why am I beating myself on the head?
Wednesday 25 September 2013
Giving myself some space
As you may hve read, I was exhausted yesterday (actually, so exhausted that the monsters did not dare to come in the morning). All day was a pain, I was running at 15% of my capacity, came back home tired, empty, bored, and actually wanted to do nothing. My plan had been to go the gym, but I completely did not feel there would be any use exercising, so it became one of these rare ocassions when I do not follow my routine.
And so the day monsters appeared: They all gathered around my head and started pumping the negative thoughts: "you are rubbish, you cannot follow your routine!","you will never get to what you want if you cannot follow your plans!", "that's why you are weak!". Gosh, there was a whole choir of them, rapping these verses of condemnation!
I came out to the porch, had a meal, and told them to leave me alone. They did not want to listen, so I told them "Fine, go ahead. Ramble on. I am just too tired to care. This is a specific day, I have a reason to be tired, and I will be fine tomorrow or so."
They were going on and on for a while, but an hour later they were quiet. I talked to my wife, saw a great photo of my son in his team sports gear at the university, played music, read a book. Went to sleep, got up today feeling fresh and strong.
(But the night monsters were back. They got me in the morning, with a fine for a traffic offense, which I had commited so reluctantly in my dream. I managed to talk myself out of it though, but it took until almost 6 am).
And so the day monsters appeared: They all gathered around my head and started pumping the negative thoughts: "you are rubbish, you cannot follow your routine!","you will never get to what you want if you cannot follow your plans!", "that's why you are weak!". Gosh, there was a whole choir of them, rapping these verses of condemnation!
I came out to the porch, had a meal, and told them to leave me alone. They did not want to listen, so I told them "Fine, go ahead. Ramble on. I am just too tired to care. This is a specific day, I have a reason to be tired, and I will be fine tomorrow or so."
They were going on and on for a while, but an hour later they were quiet. I talked to my wife, saw a great photo of my son in his team sports gear at the university, played music, read a book. Went to sleep, got up today feeling fresh and strong.
(But the night monsters were back. They got me in the morning, with a fine for a traffic offense, which I had commited so reluctantly in my dream. I managed to talk myself out of it though, but it took until almost 6 am).
Tuesday 24 September 2013
How to starve the monsters
Yesterday I had to get up very early to attend a meeting. Acually some interviews for a potential job change, but this is only of limited relevance here. The key is that I also had to come back home very late, and as you may already guess, I loss a lot of sleep on both nights. I usually sleep at least 7-8 hours per night, this time I slept less than six on both nights. Perhaps it does not seem to be a big loss is leep time, but combined with the impact of all day travel, it does make me feel like an old rag.
There has been some research many years ago, showing that sleep deprivation may boost the mood. In my case, it definitely does one thing: it starves the monsters. Not enough sleep, not enough food for the night monsters. The challenge is that my brain is working on 25% of its capacity - no monsters, the mood is neutral - becuase my brain is too exhausted to think and to produce any strong emotions. But this means no productive thinking either. I know I will have a challenging day at work. I also know that I need to recover quickly - sleep properly over the next few days, discipline myself to do my gym routines, no alcohol, good nutrition. This will bring my brain back to power.
And the monsters will probably return to their green pastures.
So, in summary, I getting my mood elevated by sleep deprivation is a bit like getting rid of the pain in my foot by numbing it completely. No pain, but no walking at the same time. May work occassionally, but not long term. At least for me.
There has been some research many years ago, showing that sleep deprivation may boost the mood. In my case, it definitely does one thing: it starves the monsters. Not enough sleep, not enough food for the night monsters. The challenge is that my brain is working on 25% of its capacity - no monsters, the mood is neutral - becuase my brain is too exhausted to think and to produce any strong emotions. But this means no productive thinking either. I know I will have a challenging day at work. I also know that I need to recover quickly - sleep properly over the next few days, discipline myself to do my gym routines, no alcohol, good nutrition. This will bring my brain back to power.
And the monsters will probably return to their green pastures.
So, in summary, I getting my mood elevated by sleep deprivation is a bit like getting rid of the pain in my foot by numbing it completely. No pain, but no walking at the same time. May work occassionally, but not long term. At least for me.
Monday 23 September 2013
Monsters that come at night
"Hi there, I am your personal night monster! I am the brother of the day one, the one that you managed to keep away, behind the defences of brick walls, barbed wire fences and moats filled with water (you sometime use acid instead of water - dont't you?). I am here to scare you at night, because at night your defences just do not work. Do you understand? They do not work at night, and I am free to come and do my job. And my job is to scare you! I will wake you up at 3 or 4 am, and nothing will stop me. I will give you a dream of your son dying, or yourself drowning, or a terrible disease. You will wake up in fear, and then the moment you try to fall a sleep again, I will continue my show. Your car will be stolen, your house will be burgled, you will be thrown out of your job without money, and your stocks will sink. Then you will wake up again, more terrified, and I will continue until 5 am or so. Then I will let you sleep for a short while, and you will wake up exhausted, to start your new beautiful day. And I will hide in my retreat and laugh at you.
I have a friend, who is a bit more kind to you. And he sometimes substitutes for me. He will not scare you; instead he will send something or someone you would love. Great sex, success at work, children getting to Harvard, stocks going up 100x, or just the kind of happiness that is beyond anything earthly. It will be in your reach, just at the stretch of your arm. And when you want to reach for it, he will make sure you cannot get it. He will wake you up, grinning his teeth silently. And then repeat it again, until all your confidence is shattered to pieces. Then you are ready to go for the challenges of the day.
We are your monsters. Very personal ones. We have been with you when you were 4 (remember that dream about the broken bridge and how you desperately pulled the bus to make sure it does not fall down into the river - your Grandma was inside?!), when you were 20 (remember all these beautiful girls in your dreams...?), when you were 30 (remember what happened to your children in some of these dreams?).
We are a part of you"
____________________________________________________________________________
Does anyone here have such nightly monsters? How do we best handle them?
I have a friend, who is a bit more kind to you. And he sometimes substitutes for me. He will not scare you; instead he will send something or someone you would love. Great sex, success at work, children getting to Harvard, stocks going up 100x, or just the kind of happiness that is beyond anything earthly. It will be in your reach, just at the stretch of your arm. And when you want to reach for it, he will make sure you cannot get it. He will wake you up, grinning his teeth silently. And then repeat it again, until all your confidence is shattered to pieces. Then you are ready to go for the challenges of the day.
We are your monsters. Very personal ones. We have been with you when you were 4 (remember that dream about the broken bridge and how you desperately pulled the bus to make sure it does not fall down into the river - your Grandma was inside?!), when you were 20 (remember all these beautiful girls in your dreams...?), when you were 30 (remember what happened to your children in some of these dreams?).
We are a part of you"
____________________________________________________________________________
Does anyone here have such nightly monsters? How do we best handle them?
Sunday 22 September 2013
Slipped disc getting in the way - like many other things
As I mentioned yesterday, the ugly monster of depression is trying to get back to me.
I got a slipped disc (the little jelly thing in my spine) on Friday. My normal routine would be to run up to 7 miles on Sunday, but the pain is significant and I do not want to hurt myself. I know then if I do not run, this will feed the depression monster; his ugly face will be laughing at me "you are rubbish!"
If I run, I will probably not make the 7 miles, and the injury may got worse. This may feed the depression monster in the long run....
This happens throughout my life from time to time. Either I do what I feel like doing (i.e. not running due to pain), and then I will not achieve what I want to achieve (fitness level), or I force myself to to stuff I do not feel like doing (i.e. run today), and then come out bruised and injured. And this applies to everything - career, study, learning to play music, socializing.
Today I will try a middle approach - will go to the gym, and do the exercise I am comfortable with, perhaps force myself just a little, but be careful. Perhaps this is the way to go.
________________________________
In the end, it was not too bad. Once I got to the gym, I found out I was unable to run - the vertebrae in my spine were producing some noises that sounded rather ominous, so I decided not to force it. But I spent 40 minutes on a stationary cycle, and then I was able to complete almost all elements of my routine. Again, this is a pattern I see quite often, I worry about trying to start something, yet once I do start it, it goes quite well. Of course as long as it is something I care about.
I got a slipped disc (the little jelly thing in my spine) on Friday. My normal routine would be to run up to 7 miles on Sunday, but the pain is significant and I do not want to hurt myself. I know then if I do not run, this will feed the depression monster; his ugly face will be laughing at me "you are rubbish!"
If I run, I will probably not make the 7 miles, and the injury may got worse. This may feed the depression monster in the long run....
This happens throughout my life from time to time. Either I do what I feel like doing (i.e. not running due to pain), and then I will not achieve what I want to achieve (fitness level), or I force myself to to stuff I do not feel like doing (i.e. run today), and then come out bruised and injured. And this applies to everything - career, study, learning to play music, socializing.
Today I will try a middle approach - will go to the gym, and do the exercise I am comfortable with, perhaps force myself just a little, but be careful. Perhaps this is the way to go.
________________________________
In the end, it was not too bad. Once I got to the gym, I found out I was unable to run - the vertebrae in my spine were producing some noises that sounded rather ominous, so I decided not to force it. But I spent 40 minutes on a stationary cycle, and then I was able to complete almost all elements of my routine. Again, this is a pattern I see quite often, I worry about trying to start something, yet once I do start it, it goes quite well. Of course as long as it is something I care about.
Saturday 21 September 2013
Depression is a bitch
Yes, depression is a bitch. Depression has been in my life for as long as I can remember, sometimes more, sometimes less visible. She (I will use a female pronoun to describe her, it just sounds right to me, please do not take any offence) is like a monster, sometimes controlling my life for several months. Surrounding me on each side, and making me either bang my head on its invisible walls, hurting myself and getting nowhere, or hide myself in a "hole in the ground", where there is hardly any light, and where there is nowhere to go.
Then she goes away for a few months, and for a moment I feel like a normal man. I feel free, happy, I can do things, I can enjoy things. I can love others and I can love myself.
And when I forget her existence, she is back. The monster exhales the dark cloud all over me, then it gets thick so I cannot move. I am trapped again.
But now, after all these years, I have learned something: I know the monster will come back. And therefore I am getting ready. I will fight.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
I am just at the moment when I feel it coming back. This blog is to tell you how I am going to fight. Let's see if I succeed.
Then she goes away for a few months, and for a moment I feel like a normal man. I feel free, happy, I can do things, I can enjoy things. I can love others and I can love myself.
And when I forget her existence, she is back. The monster exhales the dark cloud all over me, then it gets thick so I cannot move. I am trapped again.
But now, after all these years, I have learned something: I know the monster will come back. And therefore I am getting ready. I will fight.
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I am just at the moment when I feel it coming back. This blog is to tell you how I am going to fight. Let's see if I succeed.
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