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Jan. 17th, 2001 10:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
silversolitaireRight now I am captured by a sweet melancholia. I'm saying sweet, because it does not aggravate me at all, unlike all the other emotions that have haunted me in the past days. The last days have been weird. I was on this rollercoaster ride of emotions and I didn't even have a particular reason for this. I hardly ever do...
I knew it was coming. I was way too hyper in the past week and before that, three weeks in New York, not reflecting my life and my situation at all, that's too much for my emotional balance to stomach.
I had this urge, this need to spend my money, to buy ever single object on this earth that even remotely caught my interest. I was willing to spend $40 on a collection of Gundam Wing posters although I've never even watched a single episode of it! I've desperately take hold of every object that might give me a moment of thrill and delight. That's never a good sign.
And so it happened. Last night my depressions kicked in with full force. Faster and sooner than I had it expected to happen. Within an hour it suddenly got so unbearable that I fell back on the usual solution, the only solution I knew that would help me. Just a day before I promised my dear net friend Khirsah to seek help before it happens again and then it happened before I actually could get help. Not that I would have, I guess...
Now I'm sitting here, a thick bandage around my left arm, feeling inclined to whine about the constant pain and yet too proud to actually do it. After all, it was my own doing that brought me to this point. This time the cuts were deep. Almost too deep... dangerously close. I know I need help.
The strange thing is that I was talking with my Dear Friend on ICQ all the while. Now I'm feeling ashamed about dragging him into this, but he tried to help me. And the strangest thing of it all is that I think he actually helped me. Of course those usual affirmations to appease my fears and my angst never helps. I just don't listen. But he was different. He actually made me cry, at a point when I wanted to feel good and satisfied, because the deed was done. Instead he have me guilt and a bad conscience. I guess at this moment I finally admitted that I need help.
And I realized that I don't really need this constant up and down of emotions to feel like I want to. When I virtually screamed at him to leave me in peace, I suddenly realized that I want my depressions. That I think they are my renewal of my creative flows. Maybe that's why nothing really ever helped. For the first time I addressed my fears. I said "When I'm no longer depressive, will I ever be able to work again? Will I still be dark and brooding? Will I still have my ideas about life and death? How will I ever get inspired again?" And he made clear to me that I never really got inspired by this. No, it rather kept me from working. What really inspires me are songs, pictures, movies... all the things I love and no longer enjoy when I'm depressive!
In other words, the depressions have to go. I'm glad I've understood that now. Now I only need to take the steps to make them leave. I don't know how... but I will find a way. This is a huge step for me...
I knew it was coming. I was way too hyper in the past week and before that, three weeks in New York, not reflecting my life and my situation at all, that's too much for my emotional balance to stomach.
I had this urge, this need to spend my money, to buy ever single object on this earth that even remotely caught my interest. I was willing to spend $40 on a collection of Gundam Wing posters although I've never even watched a single episode of it! I've desperately take hold of every object that might give me a moment of thrill and delight. That's never a good sign.
And so it happened. Last night my depressions kicked in with full force. Faster and sooner than I had it expected to happen. Within an hour it suddenly got so unbearable that I fell back on the usual solution, the only solution I knew that would help me. Just a day before I promised my dear net friend Khirsah to seek help before it happens again and then it happened before I actually could get help. Not that I would have, I guess...
Now I'm sitting here, a thick bandage around my left arm, feeling inclined to whine about the constant pain and yet too proud to actually do it. After all, it was my own doing that brought me to this point. This time the cuts were deep. Almost too deep... dangerously close. I know I need help.
The strange thing is that I was talking with my Dear Friend on ICQ all the while. Now I'm feeling ashamed about dragging him into this, but he tried to help me. And the strangest thing of it all is that I think he actually helped me. Of course those usual affirmations to appease my fears and my angst never helps. I just don't listen. But he was different. He actually made me cry, at a point when I wanted to feel good and satisfied, because the deed was done. Instead he have me guilt and a bad conscience. I guess at this moment I finally admitted that I need help.
And I realized that I don't really need this constant up and down of emotions to feel like I want to. When I virtually screamed at him to leave me in peace, I suddenly realized that I want my depressions. That I think they are my renewal of my creative flows. Maybe that's why nothing really ever helped. For the first time I addressed my fears. I said "When I'm no longer depressive, will I ever be able to work again? Will I still be dark and brooding? Will I still have my ideas about life and death? How will I ever get inspired again?" And he made clear to me that I never really got inspired by this. No, it rather kept me from working. What really inspires me are songs, pictures, movies... all the things I love and no longer enjoy when I'm depressive!
In other words, the depressions have to go. I'm glad I've understood that now. Now I only need to take the steps to make them leave. I don't know how... but I will find a way. This is a huge step for me...
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no subject
Date: 2001-01-17 01:58 pm (UTC)I can't tell you for certain that things are going to get better, because I'm at the same place you are -- a different path on the same route. But from what I can tell about myself, self-realization is a strong part of the process of Getting Better.And...it's hard.
But you have friends.
I know this feeling......
Date: 2001-01-17 10:13 pm (UTC)Re: I know this feeling......
Date: 2001-01-20 09:51 am (UTC)thank you for your comments. Sorry if I seemed to have ignored you. Rest assured, I wasn't. I just wasn't feeling very sociable lately. Still don't...
I'm glad that you managed to get out of this misery of self-destruction. I'm working on it. At least I finally realized that it's not really the depressions that make me do all this crazy stuff all the time, but also the fascination and pleasure I take in doing it. I have to stop that and that's what I have to work on. *sighs* It's good to know that others found a way out of it.
BTW, I checked out your homepage. Nice photographs! Really, I appreciate their artistic value. I especially liked the play of light and colors. That's great! ^_^
Silver :-)
Re: I know this feeling......
Date: 2001-01-20 11:07 pm (UTC)Hey, there is nothing wrong with doing crazy stuff, I do it all the time. I just do it possitive and I make sure no-one gets hurt including my self. If I feel like I need to punish my self, I jump on my mountainbike and ride till I can't anymore....(that always is a punishment for two days LOL)
Please stop hurting your self....huh? There is so much in the world to be happy about, look and you will see it.
Hugs 4U