Today is Sunday. I didn’t get out of
the bed until 1:00 pm. Even then, it felt like a chore. I am starting to
recognize a pattern. Or, it may be a coincidence. Sunday’s, for whatever
reason, seem to be my worst day of the week.
Do I have a reason for this
conclusion? No. Not really. It is the day of the week that I feel I am the most
bored or have less things to do. I am jobless. What the hell do I have to do
any other day? Maybe I perceive it as a day of emptiness, therefore accept it
as such. About a month ago, it was another Sunday; I stayed in bed until 8:00
pm.
When I drank, Sunday’s would be the
worst. A hangover from the two previous nights of drinking would be the cause.
They were the most depressing days ever. I guess in a twisted way, that’s when
thoughts of suicide slowly began to enter my reality. I have heard people joke
the day after drinking they wish they were dead. I reflect back and to be
honest, I don’t think it was a joke for me. I sincerely hated myself, and thus
wanted to end it.
I was distant from people today. Short
with them. Not in a rude way, but in the sense of, “just leave me to be alone,
please.” It took a conversation with a friend in the later part of the afternoon
to help improve my mood. That’s what friends are for; to help you when you are
down. After the conversation, I garnered the energy to go to Tim Horton’s to
have a coffee and do some reading. The reading, coffee, but most of all, the
conversation motivated me to realize I don’t need to let Sunday’s get me down.
If you asked me at 1:00 pm how I felt
on the Sickter Scale, I would say about a 3, which is very low. At about 6:30
pm, the same question would have got an answer of 6, which is good. Instead of
being miserable and feeling sorry for myself, and with the help of a friend, my
mood got better. After some reading, I realized I need to do something more
often in my life.
I need to be more grateful.
I used to have a sense of entitlement-
the sense or feeling that I deserved extra or better just because. I used to
think I didn’t need to work hard and I should be rewarded for that. I used to
think, because of who I am (which I realize now, is a nobody), I should get
certain merits or advantages in life. I understand now, that entitlement, in my
opinion, is something that I want to create a distance from my name as much as
I can. In order to do that, I have to change a few things in my life. Atop of
that list, as far as I am concern, is gratitude.
“Thank you” may be the simplest, yet,
most invigorating phrase we can say to another human being or beings. I am
currently reading a book and just reading a chapter on Gratitude. One line that
stood out to me was, “Gratitude is many things to many people.” Again, not my
words, something I read. It is so true. I used to be terrible for being
grateful and not showing my appreciation for things in life. Maybe my ‘sense of
entitlement’ was a huge reason for that flaw. Who am I kidding? It was. I was a
self-righteous shit, that felt I didn’t have to work hard for anything and I
should be handed things. I don’t know when and where I developed that attitude,
but I am glad just as I learned it somewhere, I can unlearn it now. And I
have.
Since coming to terms with my illness
and facing it head on, I have done a lot of growing as a person. I am trying to
improve as a human being and become a better person. Happiness is something I
am on the search for. Some days I believe I have found it. Other days, I want
to eat a bullet. There are peaks and valleys. I have grasped the concept of
expressing my gratitude to show my appreciation and what I am grateful for in
my life. Showing gratitude to others is helping me find happiness. Whatever the situation, experience, or dilemma, gratitude has helped me climb out of the trenches.
I suffer from Major Depression and it
sucks. In my eyes, it is very-well a chronic illness. I don’t see an end near.
What I mean, I can’t see a day in the future when I won’t have Depression.
Maybe that day will come when I am Depression-free. Maybe it won’t. As of
today, it is a chronic illness and I am enduring it best I can. I choose how I
handle my disease. I am trying to tackle it head on, with an open mind and
heart. I am trying to be positive. I am trying to find the happiness in my
life. Being grateful has helped me find some of that happiness.
Before speaking about my illness and
beginning this epic war, I didn’t appreciate things in life. Obviously, my illness
prevented me from being grateful because I had no emotions and didn’t care
about anything. I wasn’t grateful to my ex-girlfriend who moved three or four
times so I could try to pursue a career in coaching. I wasn’t grateful to
people that had helped me out with things along the way. I wasn’t grateful when
I got my dream job of coaching. I wasn’t grateful to my parents for all the
support they have given me in my life. I wasn’t grateful to my friends for
being there in times of need. I just wasn’t grateful for anything. Saying ‘thank-you’
seemed far-fetched for me.
Now, as I matured and done some
soul-searching, I realize how grateful I am. I am grateful that I have a
beautiful, healthy son that I still get to see even though his mother and I are
no longer together. I am grateful for talking to my parents every day and for
being with me every step of the way with my battle. They haven’t left my side
once. I am grateful for my sister for letting me live with her and her
boyfriend. I am grateful for my friends that still consider me a friend after
all these years of being an ungrateful fuck. I am grateful for friends, like the
one today, that doesn’t mind talking to me when I am not having the greatest of
days. I am grateful I get to continue coaching this coming fall. I am grateful for the Mental Health staff at the Yarmouth Regional
Hospital for taking care of me since January. Most of all, I am grateful I am
still alive and I have everybody that I mentioned above to thank for that.
This is what I want to do to express
my gratitude. It is an idea. I don’t know if it would ever fly or even get off the
ground. I only came up with it today, so it is still in its infancy. I want to
make care packages and send them to patients in Mental Health hospitals/units
that suffer from Depression. As a former patient, there are a lot of unknowns
and fears when going to a hospital for the first time. I think a care package
can help alleviate or lessen the original fear, sadness, confusion, or anger of
being admitted to the hospital for Depression. I went into the Mental Health
unit full of confusion and fear and had no idea what to expect. I think a care
package would be a great thing to comfort patients and hopefully ease the
negativity behind the stigma and experience of being in the hospital. It is
just a small gesture from my end to show how thankful I am for being alive, but
to also show people that there is hope, even though it may not seem like it at
that very moment of being in the hospital. I don’t know what I would name it.
T.J.’s Depression Packs or T.J.’s Depression Survival Kit, or something along
those lines. Anyways, it is just a thought I have.
“Gratitude unlocks
the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns
denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a
meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend”
-
Melody Beattie
Yours
Truly,
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