Blue Skies

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Not every day is brilliant. What bothers you might not be the same as other people. It is really easy to get hung up on details. Every day you are lucky enough to wake up, have food on your table and a roof over your head should be sufficient to keep you happy, but that’s inevitably not the case when all that can be seen are your own failings. Trying to understand why happy is not possible for other people is, like it or not, like trying to catch smoke. All of these could start a blog post today, but I choose to use them all.

When you live with depression on a daily basis, watching other people having to deal with it can be rather uncomfortable. There is no instant fix: each person’s reaction to the demons is different. You can try and find a solution to their peculiar situation and that’s great if you do, but this relies on the person wanting to be helped. Communication therefore can be fraught, or even impossible: if someone refuses to listen, there’s nothing that can be done. You have to hope that a gesture or an assertion might make a difference, but that is all it is: hope.

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I know that, for a long time, I did not want to hear a lot of what was said. The impetus was not just on other people to accommodate the shortcomings and understand what was needed. There had to come a point where, like it or not, I had to get off my arse and contribute. I can tell you exactly when those moments occurred, and what the consequences were when this happened. Some sent me backwards, but most were enough in combination to help force an escape from crippling internal fear. Now, the concerns are wrapped around staying put, and not letting circumstance snap back.

That person that I was is frightening, looking backwards on history. Selfish, inward facing, supremely arrogant. Nothing was my fault. Everybody else was the problem. Me now, in this space, is nowhere near perfect but I have shit under control. Knowing what causes the issues really helps, controlling situations in terms that allow things not to be stressful or confrontational. The problem will come, undoubtedly, when something major hits. Illness, death, trauma… all have the potential to throw everything skywards,  destroying sanctity.

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Depression is a deeply personal experience, and impossible to accurately quantify. I’m incredibly lucky to have people around that care and understand, that will listen and sympathise, but some of them still don’t get how to deal with me. I’m keeping busy because it stops me from thinking about the bad shit: please don’t guilt me into feeling bad because of that. It isn’t you that’s the problem, it is ALWAYS me so please give some extra space to allow problem solving to happen. Trying to explain this to people is hard. Some days, this is the best way: at a distance, so there’s less emotion involved.

I’m learning as much as everybody else how living with depression works.