This blog is a series of nights I just
wrote what was on my mind and what I was feeling. I am literally all over the
map emotionally with this. Some nights I need to write a lot to help the fight.
It may not even make sense to the reader, but makes perfect sense to me and
helps me not kill myself. It's a sad reality, but that's what it is.
October 25, 2016
Today, my sister moved into a new
place. Along with the furniture, came me. We are all excited as it is a house
we can call home. For me, it is somewhat of a new beginning. New house. New
neighbourhood. It's all new to me. I know I want this to be the beginning of
something special. I don't know what that is yet, but I am hopeful. Really,
hope is all I have right now. I have no job. I have no money. My son lives in a
different community. I cannot support myself. What am I left with? The answer
is 'hope'.
I hope to get a job really soon. I
hope to be able to make some money and support myself a little better. I hope
to be a great father. I hope to change my life for the better. I feel I am
destined for something great. I am not sure what that is at this point or how I
will get there, I just know I have the right attitude to get there.
The year 2016 has felt like the
longest of my life. It has the same amount of days as other years, but the it
has been long for me. In and out of a psychiatric unit. Back and forth hundreds
of kilometers to get treatment. Lost my dream job. Fell in love with a girl
only to not have her anymore. Not waking up in the same house as my son
everyday. Diagnosed with major depression, anxiety, and OCD. People I
considered friends lost their lives. My grandmothers don't remember who I am.
Fighting a gambling addiction. Trying to stay away from alcohol. Watching my
son grow up from afar. Phone calls everyday from collection agencies.
WWE Superstar, Randy Orton's intro
music starts out as "I hear voices
in my head...they council me, they understand...". That's exactly how
my mind operates. I hear voices. Mostly, it is my voice. Mine, disguised in
different tones and dialects. No one talks to me more than me. The things that
are said are scary to the general population. But it is just another day in the
life of T.J. Smith. The depressed mind can be a terrifying place. I know mine
is.
Do I feel it yet? What is there to
feel if nothing is left? There are no strange thoughts, from my point of view.
Normal doesn't exist. I am not special either. I am just me. Some days I have
no idea what I am doing, feeling, or thinking. It can be challenging.
If the doctor told me I have a 1%
chance of getting rid of depression as to 99% chance that I will live with it
forever, I somehow have to give my 100% to that 1%. I cannot quit because the
odds may be against me. To give in to something that can hopefully be tamed is
enough so I can enjoy and live life. I have to fight to make that 1% the best
possible. I can either be a memory or a legacy. The latter is harder, but as is
all great legacies.
Never give up something that is worth
fighting for. I am beginning to realize life is worth fighting for. I keep
making sports references to my battle. As I have said before, I don't know the
score. I don't know what inning it is, period, quarter, or round I am in. What I
know is I am still alive in the game, therefore I have a chance.
A single spark can burn down an entire
city. I just have to be that spark and hopefully it flares into something.
My random thought of the night is
about clocks. My question is, how more enjoyable could life be if we didn't
have clocks? Time happens regardless. Clocks are just the measuring device.
Clocks are involved in everyday life for almost everyone. Our alarms are set
for the morning. We need to get to work by a certain, predetermined hour. We
have lunch at this time. The kids get out of school at this time. Our classes
are scheduled for a time. I have a meeting after supper at this time. Yes,
clocks keep our days organized and structured, but it is also directly related
to stress.
Imagine a day or weekend where your
clock doesn't exist or matter. You go to bed when you're ready. You can wake
when your body is ready. You eat when you're hungry. Time still exists of
course, but the measuring device does not. It is almost impossible to do, but
give it a try sometime; it may relieve some stress in our busy lives. You do
whatever makes you happy and you can really get into the moment. For example,
if you're enjoying a cup of tea with a friend or a book. If there wasn't nowhere
for you to be at a future time, you can enjoy and be present in the moment.
Back home in Newfoundland there are many quirky and local sayings. One that
I've heard several times is, "Havin' a time". It is never referring
to a clock or even the length of time between a starting and ending point. It
merely means, 'enjoying the moment'. People are having so much fun and joy and
laughter and spending time with friends and family. They are really,
"having a good time". Hence, 'havin' a time'. I don't usually analyze
and breakdown Newfie slang and sayings, but wanted to bring this one to the
forefront.
November 6, 2016
Why do I allow myself to get hurt? Why
do I even allow the possibility? Do I enjoy pain that much, unconsciously I
want to get hurt just to feel something?
There is always a risk to opening myself up and allowing someone else in. So,
now comes decision time; do I learn to put up a guard so I cannot feel this
pain anymore? Or, do I continue to take the risk of letting people in and
getting hurt? Am I impossible to love or like? Question after question. With no
direct or decisive answer. Perhaps I should go on as a single man for the rest
of my life. Can't really get hurt that way. Or maybe I can handle the emotional
pain. Just another day in my life. I can't say I am sick of pain, because in
one way or another, everyday I have to deal with it. Maybe my purpose is to
take on all the possible pain and deal with it. Why? Because I can deal with
it. It makes me feel alive. Twisted.
It was in the darkness where I found hope.
It was when I wanted to die that I found inspiration.
It was when I was down and out when I found strength.
We all have our moments of struggle
when the past, present, and future looks bleak. With each breath, we get closer
to death. It's not about the result. It is about what we do with those breaths.
We will all encounter the same result.
It is easy to take a step back from everything and feel sorry for
ourselves. It is easy to hide from the reality of life. Giving up is easy or
not easy, depends on your perspective. We may never give up on our own
children. We may never give up on our friends. We may never give up on our
family. It is giving up on ourselves that is the easiest. Not believing in
oneself is easier than believing. Quitting requires no hard work. Quitting is
easy. Easy is not just. It is just a way out. A way to quit.
Accepting difficulties is not easy.
Adversity is not easy. Being knocked down over and over is not easy. The truth
is, in my opinion, fighting Depression starts with accepting the reality of it
and all the elements that come along with it.
Step one in fighting Depression, or
any Mental Illness is accepting the fight. Accept whatever the truth is. I
don't mean giving in to it. I mean coming face to face with the truth of the illness.
If you had prostate cancer, you wouldn't hide it. You would accept the actuality
of it and do what is necessary to fight it. Accepting the reality of the matter
is the hardest step. I hid my pain for years. It dug a hole into the very nature
of my being. I wasn't willing to accept the truth of my illness. In turn, to
cope, I became something I was not. It took years from my life. It just about
took my life.
From my experience, step two would be
deciding to get help. The type of help will vary for each person. Personally, I
didn't know what options I had for getting help. Much like the stigma, I
thought getting help meant I was weak and powerless. Bluntly, I thought I was
fucked. I 'assumed' because of things I have seen on TV or in movies, that I
would be locked up in a cell, contained in a straitjacket. I was not educated
on the types of help there was for Depression. I never heard of ECT
(Electroconvulsive Shock Therapy) before January 2016. I didn't know there were
many different kinds of anti-depressants available. Basically, I had no clue of
anything with regards to Depression or any Mental Illness. I got educated
through my experience.
Step three is patience and enduring. Remission or recovery or battling isn't easy either. But it is a step in the right direction. You're on the right road. I have been on it since last winter. On this road, there are some nasty slopes that I have to climb. Sometimes, there are unproblematic down-slopes. There is all sorts of nasty weather. Fog, rain, snow, and wind. I have to push through it all. Staying on the right path takes discipline. In some parts of my life, I feel and see improvements. I have been suffering for many years. This 'fight-back' in my life hasn't even been a year. I need to put it in perspective. I am doing good, considering where I was and how dark it was there. I cannot avoid the darkness of the night on this road, but I need to remember that light comes each day is some form. Some nights I rest for a break. I go to sleep in the dark. I wake up in the dark. Those are the intense battles. There is almost bloodshed and if there is, I am at least still on the right road.
"We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope."
- Martin Luther King, Jr.
Yours Truly,
T.J. Smith
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