For the sake of those who don't keep up with this blog, I have been suffering from severe depression for the last 13 months. Over the course of that time (when I wasn't sulking or wallowing in my despair) I worked at trying to find the root-causes for much of my depression. It took a lot of convincing of myself that some of it was true. Some things, I didn't want to think about at all. This blog, along with serving as an outlet for my emotions and a log for notable events, helped me to face these issues; to reach the root-causes of my stress and depression.
I owe some institutions some money that, when looked at separately, doesn't add up to that much. However, when you total everything together, it appears to be quite a hefty amount.
If only acquiring money was as easy as bashing bricks with you're head... I was still concerned with my mental stability though (not that I was going to go postal at work or anything). I mentioned how I'd been unable to control my emotional breakdown in public in the recent weeks. Despite this, he believes I am not mentally unstable to the point that I need serious therapy (ie: a behaviourist) or meds.
One of the most profound effects on my life this depression has brought with it was a severe case of anti-socialism and repulsiveness. My relationships strained with both my parents and my friends and, upon this realization, I delved further and further into anti-socialism. I'd go through fits of aching loneliness but when presented with the opportunity to spend time with my friends or family, I would often decline. It was like, I didn't want to be lonely but at the same time I was... comforted by the sorrow loneliness instilled in me.
Lately, I've been trying to break out of this shell of loneliness. I've been trying to re-establish the relationships with those I love far too dearly to let slip away due to my own (in)actions.
On Saturday, my mother and I had a solid heart-to-heart. We discussed various issues with my life and my relationship with her and the rest of our family. This included the various things that have pushed me away from her and why I didn't speak to her unless I had to. We managed to get a lot of things out in the open, though not all of them pleasant. That just means there are things we need to work on.
That evening, I went out with some friends. Though we had a jolly old time, I have to admit that I craved for another heart-to-heart talk with them. I just wanted to tell them (as well as other friends who weren't present) how much I care and how much I've missed them over the past year or so... but to just go out and say that would be really awkward and a little bit gay, rather than sincerely caring. So, I just sat and enjoyed their company. And that was a good thing. Sometimes, I forget just how fulfilling it is just to be around them and enjoy being with them. Perhaps, maybe my actions around them already reflect how I feel (hopefully they don't make me come off as gay though).
Qoola: The FroYo place my friends and I went to.
The issue I most wanted to get out of the way over these 5 days was the one(s) between my father and myself. I hadn't spoken to him in over 4 months and I was feeling the ill-effects of this and seeing them within our family (notably the effects on my sister).
I've always believed that, no matter what, family is important. I let my feelings of hatred over the years build up without proper ventilation and the result had devastating effects on my family. I knew that things could not change over night, but I couldn't let this go on any longer. Honestly, I didn't want to have a relationship with my father (or anyone in my family, that is) in which we don't speak to each other unless we absolutely must. It's always sad when you hear about it... but it's even worse to be in that situation. Even the coldest hearts can't go without feeling some remorse for such a dim situation.
So, on Sunday night, I broke the silence between my father and I. We talked about the past and how we both knew that we needed to mend the rift before we grew to far apart. We may not have healed all wounds or touched base with everything we need to in order for things between us to be okie-dokie again, but it's a start... and that counts for something, doesn't it?
Monday rolled around. I got up at 10 in the morning and had what might have been the best cup of tea I've had in a long time. I stood on my balcony just enjoying the morning... something I haven't done in a long while. It was then that I saw a large van pull out in front of the house. I watched for a few minutes as I sipped my tea and it became apparent that the van was there to help my uncle (who had been living in my space for some time... yeah, that was really bugging me too) GTFO. A bonus sent from above, perhaps?
I made my way to the therapist by about noon. After talking with her for about half an hour, she sent me away. She was convinced that I didn't need her help and that I didn't need meds. She told me that my understanding of the root-causes for all the bollocks in the my life and my willingness and eventual actions toward dealing with them, are testaments to me good sense. I mean, there was still no doubt that I was still suffering from severe depression, but I was on a path towards excellent mental health.
I was feeling very good about myself; something I haven't felt in a very very long time. I was beginning to feel like myself. While out for a walk, I thought I actually felt lighter, like the first few steps you take after removing in-line skates. I ended the weekend with the latest episode of "24" and got to bed nice and early.
"All right, chumps! Let's do this! LEEEEEEROOOOOOY JEEEEEENNNNKIIIIIIINS!!!
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