It is a strange thing to hate yourself.
It is an odd feeling to realize that the burning feeling of exquisite displeasure and intense desire to get away from someone is directed at the someone you have to look at every day in the mirror.
Its weird to feel the contempt and disgust on your face match the contempt and disgust you hold in your heart and entirely more weird to realize its aimed at you.
It is a hard thing to feel your own heart break by these things and to not care.
It would be merciful if it stopped there, but hatred is never merciful.
The hatred seeps like a poison into everything and spoils it all, making happy memories sour and beautiful things sour.
It turns harmless jokes into spiteful jabs, exaggerates every offense, and then reminds you that the problem is inside your own self and that everyone knows it.
It tells you that because you feel this way, you cannot be really loved by others. Rather, you are pitied, rather like a hurt animal.
This causes you to you feel that you are sub-human.
A freak.
Unlovable. Undesirable. Unable to change.
This causes a dark despair - a sadness devoid of hope - to settle in your soul. It is all-encompassing. Your thoughts and feelings become consumed with hatred and despair. Because of this, you start to notice all the reasons you are as awful as you think you are. This adds to the deepening despair and growing hatred that boils and bubbles like a sludge in your gut until, one day, loathing crawls out of it. Dark, defiant, and terrible. Strong and powerful. Silent and vicious. Its influence changes you and you take on its traits. Your words become cold and sharp like claws, your attitude becomes venom, and your presence is frightful.
This causes people to leave your life because of the thing you've become. Those that don't leave on their own you make sure to push away.
After you've done this, you are alone and your hatred chuckles, the loathing laughs, and they whisper to you that it all your fault.
They then turn their backs on you and despair's deafening silence crushes you.
That is what its like to hate yourself.
Thursday, August 27, 2015
Tuesday, May 19, 2015
Well, God
Well, God, I did it. I did what you wanted me to do. It was hard. Its still hard. It hurt. It still hurts. I wonder if I'll ever feel normal or happy again.
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
Internet Gems
I was paroosing Facebook this morning as I tried to stay awake at work and I found a BuzzFeed post about a Donald Glover's fears that he hand wrote and posted on Instagram. You can access the post here. As I read through his fears, I noticed that we have several in common and that, despite his stardom, he is still mortal and gets scared, too. His last page ends with some stunning words of wisdom. Speaking of his new album, he said:
"I wanted to make something that says, no matter how bad you f*** up, or mistakes you've made during the year, your life, your eternity. You're always allowed to be better. You're always allowed to grow up. If you want."
How profound is that?! It struck me like a ton of bricks. And how perfectly timed? God can be a sneaky Man sometimes. Recently I have been thinking a lot about change and what I believe about it - especially with Easter having just passed and with several other major changes (some self chosen, others chosen for me) taking place in my life. I believe in Christ. And, because of Him, no hurt is permanent, no fall is forever, and no mess is to large for Him to heal, lift, or clean. There is nothing He can't fix. He has all power.
The really cool part is that He wants us to participate in the process. Instead of being passive bystanders as He does all the work, He invites us to work with Him to change our lives. The real work begins when we start working together. We can, with His help, overcome every obstacle that we encounter - regardless of who put it there. If we want to overcome, all we have to do is want it, commit to it, and then work for it as we listen to the Master, who knows how to get us there.
With the different challenges I have faced, am facing, and am sure I will yet face, I have felt very alone. Sometimes crushingly so. Sometimes frighteningly close to fatally so. However, this is a trick of the enemy of us all. Earlier in the same post, Glover touches on that point as well. He says that he, "got really lost... But I can't be lonely tho. Cause we're all here."
And there it is. We're all here. We're all human. We're all struggling through this mortal life. And, even when we feel most alone, we aren't because Christ is there, too. In every tough moment, through every tear of sadness, and during every instant that we take a struggling step forward, we have help from a divine source - a source that loves us completely. He loves our flaws, fixations, foibles, and follies as well as our strengths, abilities, and talents. He knows and loves us for who and what we were, are, and who, with His help, will be. Let us look for and then live up to and show that same love.
"I wanted to make something that says, no matter how bad you f*** up, or mistakes you've made during the year, your life, your eternity. You're always allowed to be better. You're always allowed to grow up. If you want."
How profound is that?! It struck me like a ton of bricks. And how perfectly timed? God can be a sneaky Man sometimes. Recently I have been thinking a lot about change and what I believe about it - especially with Easter having just passed and with several other major changes (some self chosen, others chosen for me) taking place in my life. I believe in Christ. And, because of Him, no hurt is permanent, no fall is forever, and no mess is to large for Him to heal, lift, or clean. There is nothing He can't fix. He has all power.
 |
| Christ Anoints the Blind Man by Walter Rane Photo via Google |
The really cool part is that He wants us to participate in the process. Instead of being passive bystanders as He does all the work, He invites us to work with Him to change our lives. The real work begins when we start working together. We can, with His help, overcome every obstacle that we encounter - regardless of who put it there. If we want to overcome, all we have to do is want it, commit to it, and then work for it as we listen to the Master, who knows how to get us there.
With the different challenges I have faced, am facing, and am sure I will yet face, I have felt very alone. Sometimes crushingly so. Sometimes frighteningly close to fatally so. However, this is a trick of the enemy of us all. Earlier in the same post, Glover touches on that point as well. He says that he, "got really lost... But I can't be lonely tho. Cause we're all here."
And there it is. We're all here. We're all human. We're all struggling through this mortal life. And, even when we feel most alone, we aren't because Christ is there, too. In every tough moment, through every tear of sadness, and during every instant that we take a struggling step forward, we have help from a divine source - a source that loves us completely. He loves our flaws, fixations, foibles, and follies as well as our strengths, abilities, and talents. He knows and loves us for who and what we were, are, and who, with His help, will be. Let us look for and then live up to and show that same love.
Friday, January 16, 2015
Depression: the Internal Bully
Ladies and Gentlemen:
Recently, I've heard that all it takes to help stop bullying and/or one of the most effective tools to help combat it is for one other person to stand up to the bully. Just ONE other person. This is hard to do when the bully is in the mirror. Depression, self doubt, and other similar thought patterns are, in a way, self bullying. We who live with depression are living with an internal rather than an external bully. So, when people around us are harsh in response to our state, worse when they are silent when the topic comes up, or - worst of all - if they just seem to go away, it leaves us alone with our tormentor; a tormentor that is rather vocal that we are not just alone, but that we have been left alone, a whole different sad, scary, and quite frankly destructive matter entirely.
Let me describe what depression feels like for me. May the reader please note that this isn't a comprehensive description - depression affects everyone differently and it may be different for others who have depression as their daily companion. Please note also that I have only had experience with and will therefore keep my thoughts focused on depression.
Describing depression can be difficult. Much like describing the taste of salt is nearly impossible without using the word 'salty,' it is difficult to describe depression without using the word 'depressed.' Perhaps a good place to start is by breaking down the word: de - down, press - to act upon with steadily applied weight or force. We can therefore describe depression as the steadily applied weight or force downward. For other definitions of the word 'press', please follow this link: Press. The different definitions add great meaning and insight to the discussion.
Keeping that constant pressure downward in mind, please imagine a world where the colors are less bright and the sounds are less pure. There is a gray haze that has settled in and grasped tightly everything you see. It's color seeps into everything it touches and stains it. It muffles sound. It darkens the sun. It chokes as you breath it in. The polluted air is thick and cold, which makes it hard and a little painful to move. The world becomes a dark, colorless, lifeless waste. For a definition of the word 'waste', please follow this link: Waste. The different definitions add great meaning and insight to the discussion.
Other people look happy and fulfilled by their lives. They survey you with either uninterested or sneering expressions as they hurry past and, seeing their quick movement, you are extremely aware that you are clumsy and slow. Those close to you look concerned, but feel distant and powerless - driving a feeling of hopelessness deeper into your heart. Hopelessness that adds more weight dragging you lower.
You tire quickly.
You don't sleep well.
Tasks - even small ones - feel huge and impossible.
You feel weak.
Powerless.
Hopeless.
Alone.
There is one thing that stands above all others as perhaps the worst part of this shadowy mess. The worst part is the maddening whispers that come from the haze. The haze has a voice of its own, but masterfully makes you believe that what its telling you comes from what other people are thinking about you. All day it whispers all of your doubts, fears, and insecurities into your ear, slipping in an extra few ounces of weight with every word. Then, once its been around long enough, the voice starts sounding like your own. You then begin to hear - in your own voice - messages like:
"You're not good enough,"
"you're ugly,"
"you can't,"
"no one likes you,"
"it's hopeless,"
"you're worthless,"
"stupid,"
"fat,"
"a waste of space,"
"weak,"
And, once it has you believing all the things it says about you, it starts giving you directions:
"Give up,"
"Why try?"
"Stop trying,"
And then the really scary stuff starts when you start hearing, "It would be better if you just went away" and other messages in your spoken to you in your own voice. By this point, you're convinced nothing is going to get better because once we become accustomed to any one particular thing, it is hard to imagine a life without it.
You feel as if you have fallen down into a dark and deep hole. Your arms and legs ache from kicking and pounding against walls searching for a way to climb out. Your hands are raw and bloody from scratching the rock wall. Your breath is gone and your heart pounds as you realize that you're not going to be able to climb out of this hole. So, you lean up against the cold and rocky wall, slowly slide down until you're sitting on the jagged floor, put your head to your knees, wrap you arms around your legs, and hope it doesn't take too long to die.
You wish you could just disappear.
Vanish.
Not feel.
... And then the alarm goes off... And you have to do it all over again.
All day every day.
With this as a back drop, dose it make sense why having a social stigma against struggling and having problems would be so detrimental to those who live in such a place? It is a (perceived) confirmation to everything we believe about ourselves. Every doubt, every insecurity, and every ounce of weight is doubled when we feel like what we're going through is sub-human and unnatural. So, may I offer a bit of advice? As we struggle with ourselves and as we learn to manage what is going on around us, just be there. You don't need to be the manic cheerleaders on the sidelines or even the best coach in the world as you rip phone-books in half. You just need to be present. Give the option of open and warm communication and please don't get offended if we don't take it. When people are hurt, they say and do things they don't really mean. We are hurting.
Please, don't tell us to be happy. Don't tell us to stop being silly. Don't tell us it's going to get better. Don't tell us that we just need to stop thinking about it or that we just need to, "snap out of it." Those things are not helpful and, more often than not, give more power to the bully. Why? Because in saying those things, you have joined your voice with the internal bully's in shouting the messages that we are not enough and are stupid for feeling the way that we feel. The very messages we tell ourselves every day of our lives. But, whatever you do, please don't be silent! Don't let us feel forgotten. Don't let us feel we have become too much to bear and you've cut us off. If nothing else, just be there. Be as patient and as kind as you can because we - at least I - am not offering either of those things to ourselves.
Depression is a real and a frightening demon. Self doubt is a monster that swallows everything it sees. Both of these have many friends they bring with them in varying degrees. I know that this blog post isn't going to change the world. It may do absolutely nothing. I do hope that it will at least be some sort of added voice for a change in our attitude toward those who struggle. With depression, kindness is the best medicine. Kindness, paired with genuine love, will do more to help combat depression than any other tool.
Open your hearts. Reach down your hands. Let us know you're there. We need you.
I'm
tired. I'm tired in so many ways that it hurts. I'm tired of school.
I'm tired of dating. I'm tired of work. I'm tired of saying that I'm
happy and putting on a show so that I don't alarm the masses. I'm just
tired. I try so hard to be perfect and keep up the appearance of being
OK because that is what is socially acceptable. When someone on the
street - and more and more alarmingly between friends - asks, "How are
you?" if the answer isn't, "I'm fine, thanks, how're you?" people start
freaking out. The idea behind this seems to be, "Keep your problems to
yourself. Your problems are your problem, please don't bother me with
them." Consequentially, we have lost the ability to have a bad day (or
even several in a row) and have it be normal. We have become broken
hearts hiding behind perfect faces. This fact has made me ask a couple
of questions: Why do we as a society look down on those who are
struggling? And, perhaps even more of what I would like to say: Why are
we so silent about disorders and diseases of the mind, heart, and
soul?
Depression and similar conditions are scary, not only for those who suffer with them, but for those who watch them suffer. I understand that such thought patterns and (using the word carefully) disorders are temporary and curable. I am here to tell you that, even though we sometimes understand this, it doesn't feel that way. The crushing weight of depression, the shackles of self doubt, and the impenetrable fortress of "getting better" are realities. If you've ever struggled with depression, you understand how foreign the idea of getting better is. It seems that we will feel this way forever and that we will be trapped in our own personal hell for eternity.
Depression and similar conditions are scary, not only for those who suffer with them, but for those who watch them suffer. I understand that such thought patterns and (using the word carefully) disorders are temporary and curable. I am here to tell you that, even though we sometimes understand this, it doesn't feel that way. The crushing weight of depression, the shackles of self doubt, and the impenetrable fortress of "getting better" are realities. If you've ever struggled with depression, you understand how foreign the idea of getting better is. It seems that we will feel this way forever and that we will be trapped in our own personal hell for eternity.
Recently, I've heard that all it takes to help stop bullying and/or one of the most effective tools to help combat it is for one other person to stand up to the bully. Just ONE other person. This is hard to do when the bully is in the mirror. Depression, self doubt, and other similar thought patterns are, in a way, self bullying. We who live with depression are living with an internal rather than an external bully. So, when people around us are harsh in response to our state, worse when they are silent when the topic comes up, or - worst of all - if they just seem to go away, it leaves us alone with our tormentor; a tormentor that is rather vocal that we are not just alone, but that we have been left alone, a whole different sad, scary, and quite frankly destructive matter entirely.
Let me describe what depression feels like for me. May the reader please note that this isn't a comprehensive description - depression affects everyone differently and it may be different for others who have depression as their daily companion. Please note also that I have only had experience with and will therefore keep my thoughts focused on depression.
Describing depression can be difficult. Much like describing the taste of salt is nearly impossible without using the word 'salty,' it is difficult to describe depression without using the word 'depressed.' Perhaps a good place to start is by breaking down the word: de - down, press - to act upon with steadily applied weight or force. We can therefore describe depression as the steadily applied weight or force downward. For other definitions of the word 'press', please follow this link: Press. The different definitions add great meaning and insight to the discussion.
Keeping that constant pressure downward in mind, please imagine a world where the colors are less bright and the sounds are less pure. There is a gray haze that has settled in and grasped tightly everything you see. It's color seeps into everything it touches and stains it. It muffles sound. It darkens the sun. It chokes as you breath it in. The polluted air is thick and cold, which makes it hard and a little painful to move. The world becomes a dark, colorless, lifeless waste. For a definition of the word 'waste', please follow this link: Waste. The different definitions add great meaning and insight to the discussion.
Other people look happy and fulfilled by their lives. They survey you with either uninterested or sneering expressions as they hurry past and, seeing their quick movement, you are extremely aware that you are clumsy and slow. Those close to you look concerned, but feel distant and powerless - driving a feeling of hopelessness deeper into your heart. Hopelessness that adds more weight dragging you lower.
You tire quickly.
You don't sleep well.
Tasks - even small ones - feel huge and impossible.
You feel weak.
Powerless.
Hopeless.
Alone.
There is one thing that stands above all others as perhaps the worst part of this shadowy mess. The worst part is the maddening whispers that come from the haze. The haze has a voice of its own, but masterfully makes you believe that what its telling you comes from what other people are thinking about you. All day it whispers all of your doubts, fears, and insecurities into your ear, slipping in an extra few ounces of weight with every word. Then, once its been around long enough, the voice starts sounding like your own. You then begin to hear - in your own voice - messages like:
"You're not good enough,"
"you're ugly,"
"you can't,"
"no one likes you,"
"it's hopeless,"
"you're worthless,"
"stupid,"
"fat,"
"a waste of space,"
"weak,"
And, once it has you believing all the things it says about you, it starts giving you directions:
"Give up,"
"Why try?"
"Stop trying,"
And then the really scary stuff starts when you start hearing, "It would be better if you just went away" and other messages in your spoken to you in your own voice. By this point, you're convinced nothing is going to get better because once we become accustomed to any one particular thing, it is hard to imagine a life without it.
You feel as if you have fallen down into a dark and deep hole. Your arms and legs ache from kicking and pounding against walls searching for a way to climb out. Your hands are raw and bloody from scratching the rock wall. Your breath is gone and your heart pounds as you realize that you're not going to be able to climb out of this hole. So, you lean up against the cold and rocky wall, slowly slide down until you're sitting on the jagged floor, put your head to your knees, wrap you arms around your legs, and hope it doesn't take too long to die.
You wish you could just disappear.
Vanish.
Not feel.
... And then the alarm goes off... And you have to do it all over again.
All day every day.
With this as a back drop, dose it make sense why having a social stigma against struggling and having problems would be so detrimental to those who live in such a place? It is a (perceived) confirmation to everything we believe about ourselves. Every doubt, every insecurity, and every ounce of weight is doubled when we feel like what we're going through is sub-human and unnatural. So, may I offer a bit of advice? As we struggle with ourselves and as we learn to manage what is going on around us, just be there. You don't need to be the manic cheerleaders on the sidelines or even the best coach in the world as you rip phone-books in half. You just need to be present. Give the option of open and warm communication and please don't get offended if we don't take it. When people are hurt, they say and do things they don't really mean. We are hurting.
Please, don't tell us to be happy. Don't tell us to stop being silly. Don't tell us it's going to get better. Don't tell us that we just need to stop thinking about it or that we just need to, "snap out of it." Those things are not helpful and, more often than not, give more power to the bully. Why? Because in saying those things, you have joined your voice with the internal bully's in shouting the messages that we are not enough and are stupid for feeling the way that we feel. The very messages we tell ourselves every day of our lives. But, whatever you do, please don't be silent! Don't let us feel forgotten. Don't let us feel we have become too much to bear and you've cut us off. If nothing else, just be there. Be as patient and as kind as you can because we - at least I - am not offering either of those things to ourselves.
Depression is a real and a frightening demon. Self doubt is a monster that swallows everything it sees. Both of these have many friends they bring with them in varying degrees. I know that this blog post isn't going to change the world. It may do absolutely nothing. I do hope that it will at least be some sort of added voice for a change in our attitude toward those who struggle. With depression, kindness is the best medicine. Kindness, paired with genuine love, will do more to help combat depression than any other tool.
Open your hearts. Reach down your hands. Let us know you're there. We need you.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)