So, I figured it was time to 'do away with' my nasty-post (sorry about the 'Fuck' exposure. the week had been rough)...
...Not much has been going on in the life of Ruca, really. I have been, and I am going to be candid here, moderatly depressed for the last two weeks (not sleeping, hard time focusing/concentrating, crying at the drop of a hat...). I made the descision to start seeing a therapist next week so that I can get my head screwed back on. It fell off somewhere between heartachesville and keeling-out transmission town on the way to Adulthood, the most NON freindly amusement park in the universe. And boy, were those scenic routes bumpy!
Honestly, though, I have no problem sharing this with people. I think the worst thing that someone can do besides being in denial to their person about depression is being in denial about it to the people around them. I mean, yes, I grew up with a "Refined Redneck" of a father (his one redeeming quality is that he plays golf, Like a champ at that!), but we still have always been open about our feelings. Some nights, we've had our own version of a firing range, right here in the living room. But, even still, talking about your feelings, and even going as far to seeing a professional has never been beyond my family life (we even tried to see a therapist together as a family once, but I think we scared her
).
I made the descision to see a professional, though, when I started to think about suicide. Now, Look, don't you all get your panties in a wad! I was not contemplating actually going through with it, but I would have pretty vivid daymares- like right in the middle of say, stocking a shelf full of paint, or ringing a customer through at the register- of carrying out the slitting of the wrists (geeze I make it sound like some formal event
). And it disturbs me because I don't know what to do with these thoughts. But, yeah, when those visions began to plague my everyday, I knew it was time to talk to someone OUTside of my home. I mean, my parents ARE supportive, but only on the parental level. I need someone who can unbiasedly analyze my situation. Someone who won't dictate to me WHAT to change, but rather work with me. And bless the ol parents' hearts, really, they mean well, they just aren't seeing where I am coming from. Hell, these days I hardly know where I am coming from.... 
So, with that said, I am just trying to be as stress free as possible. Until the acutal meeting with the therapist, I am trying to take everything in stride, laugh as much as possible, and find outlets, so I don't let the 'bad thoughts' take over. I know, just like most shit I've had to endure, I'll make it. In time, I'll find my open door. But, for the moment, I am just trying to hold on....
...Not much has been going on in the life of Ruca, really. I have been, and I am going to be candid here, moderatly depressed for the last two weeks (not sleeping, hard time focusing/concentrating, crying at the drop of a hat...). I made the descision to start seeing a therapist next week so that I can get my head screwed back on. It fell off somewhere between heartachesville and keeling-out transmission town on the way to Adulthood, the most NON freindly amusement park in the universe. And boy, were those scenic routes bumpy!
Honestly, though, I have no problem sharing this with people. I think the worst thing that someone can do besides being in denial to their person about depression is being in denial about it to the people around them. I mean, yes, I grew up with a "Refined Redneck" of a father (his one redeeming quality is that he plays golf, Like a champ at that!), but we still have always been open about our feelings. Some nights, we've had our own version of a firing range, right here in the living room. But, even still, talking about your feelings, and even going as far to seeing a professional has never been beyond my family life (we even tried to see a therapist together as a family once, but I think we scared her
).
I made the descision to see a professional, though, when I started to think about suicide. Now, Look, don't you all get your panties in a wad! I was not contemplating actually going through with it, but I would have pretty vivid daymares- like right in the middle of say, stocking a shelf full of paint, or ringing a customer through at the register- of carrying out the slitting of the wrists (geeze I make it sound like some formal event
). And it disturbs me because I don't know what to do with these thoughts. But, yeah, when those visions began to plague my everyday, I knew it was time to talk to someone OUTside of my home. I mean, my parents ARE supportive, but only on the parental level. I need someone who can unbiasedly analyze my situation. Someone who won't dictate to me WHAT to change, but rather work with me. And bless the ol parents' hearts, really, they mean well, they just aren't seeing where I am coming from. Hell, these days I hardly know where I am coming from....
So, with that said, I am just trying to be as stress free as possible. Until the acutal meeting with the therapist, I am trying to take everything in stride, laugh as much as possible, and find outlets, so I don't let the 'bad thoughts' take over. I know, just like most shit I've had to endure, I'll make it. In time, I'll find my open door. But, for the moment, I am just trying to hold on....
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
ah Depression, I think you're right to be open about it and seeing a therapist is probably a good idea especially if they can help you to find constructive ways of dealing with it and not just throw some prescription at you. I've been living with depression for a long time and have learned to deal with it on my own over the years without drugs or therapy, but, if I had to do it over again I would have gone to seek some help cause there have been some rough patches ..infact I still might at some point. hang in there!
*gooses you*
-TM
[Edited on Feb 02, 2006 10:09PM]