Dunno if you've ever heard that Fleetwood Mac song... It's so peaceful... reflective... all encompassing "not a care in the world"...
I know no one ever said "Victor, your blogs are, can be, funny." If I've every approached that, please don't expect it here.
A recent bout of depression. How recent Victor? Ha, I'm not telling... OK, this week. Hopefully ending today.
Why Victor, WHY would you share something like that 'to the world'. Well, I hardly doubt the world reads this, but if they did, I would welcome it, encourage it even.
Society has taught us "Depression, keep it in, to yourself, don't bog down others." I vote hogwash. Share. You won't bog down others, in fact, quite the contrary. Folks, in general, are uplifting. Kind. Understanding.
It was, a bad week for me. With depression, at least with me, there are a cast of characters inside your brain..who, when you say "I can do this... I will be happy". One at a time they tell you "no you won't... don't count on it.... remember, this fault, that fault, every fault, remember the day you butchered (something) horrendously? You can't do it, why try?"
It's like you run... you run like a zumba, and there, they, 'the wall' of depression voices turn you back every which way you bounce.
So...... you, oft times, curl up in a little ball, nap... bed is somehow your yucky friend... If you're not awake, then the zumba is not having to avoid, put up with, those voices. (Those voices which are actually your own voices.)
Food tastes like it does for those with Covid.. you can't really taste it. You stare in the mirror around 3pm and realize, "I've got the same outfit I had on yesterday." Dishes, paper plates, plastic water bottles are met with a voice that says "eh, I'll get 'em sometime, don't worry about it", so, you don't, they pile up, you look at them constantly, worry, but you don't act. That's depression.
The front door. The bastard, the front door. I don't want to see those people. Not when I feel like this. Besides, it'll only add to the problem. So you don't go. When you need fresh air the most, huh uh, not doing so.
You stare at the phone, the computer. You think of, one or two you could call, message.. who would understand you.. not judge you... help you.. but you usually don't make that call or that text for fear of bringing them down too.
Wrong. That idea is wrong. The two I had picked out I KNOW would have helped me. If you have had all of the above happen to you, AND, you say "I'm not you, I don't have two people who would understand, help, not judge" Wrong. Many could, would.
You go to your regular physician... You don't bring up depression, usually at least. If they by chance do, it's met with "well, kinda, maybe." They may or may not start you with a dosage to assist. It's not an end all be all, but it can help. Aside from maybe asking again when the prescription expires, it's not brought up too frequently. They may 'up' or reduce your dosage, dependent upon your answers. Again, all well and good but it does virtually nothing, as far as "being ears" to assist.
In these days of $4.99 a pound ground beef, $5 a gallon gas, not everyone has the expendable funds to call, go see a shrink. (There are free, 800#'s, free text lines to talk to someone.)
Poor poor pitiful me is a trap you fall into. At least I do.
Today, I was watching a rain delay during the Royal's game. It was a tribute to Vin Scully, the longtime (67 years) broadcaster for the (Brooklyn) and Los Angeles Dodgers. He just passed away at age 94. They painted an infallible picture of the man. He literally was, 'somebody' - but he never thought so. He'd talk to you and ask all about you, make you feel special. It was a ten minute dissertation on his kindness, gentleness, genuineness.
Then it went to footage of his induction speech into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1984. He first asked himself "why me" when there were millions like me who could be here. He thanked a long list.. His family.. players, coaches, writers, fans, owners...then he told the story of an Indian Chief........
The Chief wanted to test the manhood of four braves.. and ask that they climb the mountain to see how far they could get. They all departed at the same time. The first, returned down the mountain mid-morning with a sprig of spruce.. mid-day, the next came down.. carrying a branch of pine.. just as the sun was setting, a third brave came down carrying an alpine shrub...finally, approaching midnight, the 4th brave got to the bottom.. "How high did you go? What did you bring down?"..."Where I went, there were no spruces, no pines, no shrubs.. just rocks and ice... my feet are freezing.. my hands are raw.. but, I saw the sea." Mr. Scully then likened the day, his induction, his life, all of it, and ended with, "I saw the sea."
As Vin walked off the stage, tears flowed. Not just me, folks in the audience too. For me, it was like, when you're a kid and you don't know you're not supposed to take the radiator cap off while the car is still hot. SPEW! Them tears came, all at once. A hurt good, feel good came over me. I knew, at least momentarily, mean voices have gone. This bout, over.
One never knows. The guy in the next lane to you in Interstate. The person in front of you at the grocery store. The lady next to you getting her hair styled. Maybe even the lady styling your hair. In the cubicle next to you. Your buddy riding next to you in the golf cart. You just never know.
Depression strikes many. Please, I do not seek nor want "Victor, so glad you're better" comments. The purpose today is to let those who also share, go thru depression know, you are not alone. To those who, thank God, don't deal with depression - to let you know it can simply be yuck, debilitating to varying degrees.
I needed tears. Badly. I need to hear about kindness...goodness. We all need kindness and goodness. Lest we never forget. And, you are never ever alone.
Love, Victurd
No comments:
Post a Comment