@Dibley What did the doctor have to say?
Also, I think it could well be the low self-esteem saying that they get sick of seeing you. I’m sitting here thinking what can I tell you about that? I’m drawing a blank. Self-esteem is such a difficult thing to work on, and when it changes, it seems like it’s changing by magic; not by anything I do.
I knew, when I was feeling bad, that there were many reasons why I should feel better about myself. None of them mattered. Because of that, the littlest things could batter me down. Most particularly a silence of more than twelve hours from someone I was depending on—friend or more than that. Such a silence caused me to make up all kinds of stories about how they hated me. I could come up with a dozen reasons for why they disliked me without even trying.
That kind of thinking is worse than useless. I was essentially cooperating with whatever it was that made me feel bad to make me feel worse. The feeling wasn’t based on reality, although it felt real. I had to learn to try to separate my feelings about my fantasies from my feelings about reality. I had to learn to not let my fantasies fly away from me to wreak havoc. It wasn’t easy, and I don’t expect it’s easy for anyone in this situation.
I think your mind is wandering around looking for reasons to feel bad. It’s as if the world is a teacup and you are constantly reading the leaves in the bottom of that cup. Everywhere you look, you see more omens and portents. If you are doing that, you have to redirect your mental energy to more constructive pursuits. That means occupy your mind with something else. For me, that means being around people, especially people I like, having intense conversations and working on things that will improve the world. This work can be in the physical world or in the artistic world. Anything, so long as it involved creating things.
One way to work on this is to give yourself permission to fail. To fall back into depression. To give up on yourself. To hit bottom again.
I get this idea from 12 step programs, where they start by admitting they are powerless over their addiction. I had felt like I was supposed to control my depression, and that if I really wanted to, I could pull myself out of it. When I didn’t do that, I beat myself up even more. Eventually, I decided I liked depression. I gave up fighting it. I just let it be whatever it wanted to be.
Somehow, that freed me of it. Not all at once, and there was this constant battle of believing I could control it and then giving up. Giving up allowed me to distance myself mentally from it. I had no power over it. It was going to do what it wanted. But, somehow, I was able to be myself in the times when depression wasn’t taking over. And somehow, those moments of being myself became longer and longer.
The depression is what it is. It is outside of your control. It is like an animal running free in the forest. What you want to do is to let it go. Let it run so far, you can’t see it, and it can’t find you again. Depression is a horrible, smothering, heavy animal. But it needs you to fight it. When you stop fighting, it has nothing to hold onto. It begins to slide off. You just keep on doing what you do, letting the depression be, and eventually it hits the ground. And seeing as how it’s blind, it starts sniffing around for you, but it can’t find you, and eventually, it gets lost.
Well. Nice metaphor. Is it real? To some degree. It’s not easy, of course. I hope that helps.