FA+
Shop
Wow: the Long Version
10 years ago
Hey there, all you good peeps.
Things are...better. And it's feeling like the trend is continuing in this direction, for the first time in what feels like a million years.
I give you the Long Version of the following story for those who want it. I won't be hurt if you skip this for the Reader's Digest version.
Anyone who suffers from depression will tell you it puts your life in a blender. Your brain might as well be stuffed with cotton for all the good it does you. And my brain?
See, my brain and my heart have this ongoing spat. My heart wants me to do everything I can for everyone. I don't see this as a terrible trait when put in the context of a healthy mind/heart relationship, one that understands the importance of boundaries, self-worth, self-care, and most important for me, embracing imperfection as an integral part of being human. I enjoy helping people. Whether it's assisting a struggling artist with their work or helping a friend schlep boxes from one home to the next, it makes me feel like I'm useful, like I'm putting my desire to be a good person into practice.
But then my brain gets involved. I must plan things, you see. One just doesn't dive in willy-nilly, silly! One must first cry "Whoa, Nelly!", apply the brakes and then plan, plan, plan before you do anything. Yet the more I plan, the more complicated the act of doing becomes, until I am finally in a state of paralysis since I can't possibly do every single thing to the appropriate level of perfection.
As I once heard the great Terryl Whitlach say: "Perfection leads to Procrastination, which ends in Paralysis."
What changed?
I guess I did. I guess that's what I've been doing for the past nine years.
I set all the personal dials and meters back to zero. My instruments for self-measurement are way the fuck out of whack. How can you tell who you are or how you're doing without properly calibrated tools? Most folks learn how to fly straight from their parents. I've had to teach myself. When am I overreacting? When am I hurting someone by trying to help them, or making a bad situation worse? Where's the line between "yep, that's my fault" and "no, that's not my fault?" At what point am I making someone else's problem mine as well?
I've been practicing the art of witnessing myself--another way of saying I pushed "reset" on all my instruments. A typical arc of action I might have followed would go like "I did something/It didn't work out/Therefore I suck". I've been removing that last judgement from my internal analysis. What's been the result of this intentional edit of my internal dialog? I'm getting my "bounce" back, that's one thing. I'm more likely to learn from mistakes when I don't see every mistake as a personal failing. It's getting easier to spot opportunities and jump at the ones that interest me. It's getting easier to let go of those that don't, no matter who is pushing them under my nose nor how they try to entice/shame/manipulate me into doing what they want. I'm growing more capable of acting from a place of grace and kindness rather than fear, resentment, self-hate or shame. It's a weird state of living, attempting to stand apart from yourself in order to observe the ways in which you engage others and evaluate yourself, but it's done me huge good.
I have parts of me that I dig. That may sound loopy but I don't care. It's significant to me. The poisonous core of self-hate is the belief that you're unworthy of love. When you see that you've got the qualities your friends see in you, the things they love about you, you're stuck. The self-hate is dealt a crippling blow.
I started keeping a daily list of accomplishments. I made a point to include all of those things I normally dismissed as "givens". Hint: taking care of a friend in need? That's important. Very, very important. It counts. I've stopped guilt-tripping myself about forgetting to take out the garbage because I needed to talk a friend off the ledge.
I have a dog in my life again, a high-velocity Pibble mix who doesn't let me get away with any long, drawn-out moping. We walk at least once a day for an hour; usually two walks at an hour apiece. Hey, all those studies tying exercise to improved mental health are true! Whaddaya know. Depression turns me into a slug. My pup-girl is the best kind of slug prevention and what's more, she gives me love. It's hard to keep from smiling when she's staring up at me.
As for the perfectionism--the mindfucking that's held me back in so many ways--I'm letting it go in bits and pieces. I know what I want, and that's a wider role for the Furry side of me in my life. I'm not going to say what shape that will take, nor when. That only gets me in more trouble. I've said "I'm back!" before, haven't I? Let's just take it leisurely, shall we, and see what comes of it?
I've met some of the best people in the world thanks to this fandom. Love you, right down to your fuzz-covered tailbones. Be well. More soon.
I've posted stuff here and there on FA. I've been a little better on the non-furry side of my life (often much, much better), but it's been a rough ride internally and externally since 2006. My online presence essentially went away. :/
Moving towards a healthier state of being has caused some fundamental changes in the way I live. I've had to adapt to my limitations. But you know how limitations sometimes cause you to see the world in brand new ways?
I've been doing my best to stand back and just witness myself when I sink into bad habits. No judgement or mental pummeling, just a compassionate kind of observation (when I can manage it), noting my behavior and, much like you, treating the reactionary me with some gentleness.
If I commit any consistent crime against myself it's that--a lack of kindness towards myself when I'm low. Which is the tactical equivalent to kicking someone who's already down, right? Silly, and habitual, and that's where I have some hope, because if it's a habit, I can undo it.
Here's to you and me. Let's keep at it, shall we? *hugs*
I'm much happier taking some of those things out of my life, perhaps it will be temporary or even permanent depending on how things go, but I'm at least noticing things and mentally trying to change them, which does make the mountain more surmountable.
That being said, I'm glad you're getting you're figuring things out. I miss seeing your stuff, and I found you way back on FN if I recall correctly. I thought about you just the other day when I posted a new microscopy picture, you were one of a few people who said that you thought it was neat.
I know exactly what you're talking about. As I said to Dragonspike16, these long breaks I've taken from furry art have had much more to do with my own internal battles over the same things you're fighting--feeling deluged with expectations, real and imagined; worry over what "people" might think, be they friends, co-workers, enemies, or the goddamn Moles on the Moon; all the fucking Shoulds in our lives. Here's who you Should be! He's what you Should be doing with your life! Here's how you Should be doing it! On, and on, and on it goes.
It makes a big difference, doesn't it, when you realize that you get to control who and what you listen to? It's like giving back to yourself power that you'd unintentionally given away.
I'm very glad to hear you're doing better, too. I didn't know we were running on parallel tracks--that's the price I pay for running silent. I miss a lot.
And I love your microscopy stuff. Truth.
I am sorry you have been hit by depression . I am learning more and more about how hard that can be through my mother in law who has it.
Depression is tough on everyone, not just you (that is, *me*), the depressive, which is why a lot of depressed people commit suicide. We can't stand the effect we have on others and more importantly, we can't stand how we think we're effecting others, which can be a very different thing from reality. Most of my Infamous Vanishing Acts were fueled by my belief that I was doing damage by being around others while I was depressed. I needed to protect everyone from my Cloud of Sad, or so I thought, and so I retreated from my peers, my friends, my family.
Add to that the difficulty of expressing how chronic depression feels to others. Our interior reality of often paralyzing, asphyxiating sadness doesn't come with comprehensible exterior signs, like, say, a crushed leg would. People get that you'd be in pain from a crushed leg. It's harder for them to understand why someone with no obvious trauma might be so fucked up they can't get out of bed for days.
That's what makes it so important that you're trying to learn more about the condition in order to better understand your mom-in-law. You're doing very good work, for her and for your partner, and it's hard work, I know, but bless your sweet head for doing it.
You also show folks what it's like to struggle and overcome through your work and your Blog. I respect the fuck out of that.
I'm coming back. Damn straight. But I'm going to be eating up a four-course meal of your art as I get my momentum back. You are a crackerjack storyteller.