The Ironic Journey – How Being Depressed Made Me Better

I went radio silent for about a month. It was a weird month. Was disconnecting a symptom or part of the treatment? I still can’t tell.

I thought writing a blog post at least once a week would help motivate me to keep writing. It did, but then it didn’t. I ran up against the old wall of “EXPECTATIONS”, my perpetual nemesis.

I went “invisible” on facebook, I tried not to log on and read updates, and if I did find myself on the site, then I refrained from commenting and liking posts. A few things I learned about going invisible:
– Most people don’t even notice your absence. If they miss you at all, it’s totally independent of what you do on social media.
– Pretending to be invisible allows you to still observe, but it removes a lot from the equation. You don’t have to offer an opinion or even justify your identity.
– Not offering an opinion is healthier than one might think at first. We’re so programmed to react and interact; letting things be frees up a lot of energy.

I spent a good portion of the month feeling depressed. It sucked because it didn’t feel good, but it was strangely liberating. I got to the point of not caring so much that I felt empty, at which point I realized I was free. If you don’t give a damn, nothing hurts you, so you can get the emotional bullshit out of the way and just do stuff. I think I’ve cried less in this past month than I have ever before, and I cry pretty easily. It’s like being depressed turned down the intensity of everything.

I used to suffer FOMO – fear of missing out – all the time, but when you don’t care about anything, you don’t care about what you’re missing out on, and suddenly your whole perspective narrows down to what you actually are doing. Eventually I got bored with being depressed and useless. Time to move on.

So I started doing things that are good for me. Started taking walks, starting taking extra supplements, starting making more tea, started eating more, started dancing around the apartment more.

I can feel my body and mind re-engaging, but every day when I wake up, I try to remember the zen-like quality of my depression, that place of being empty where nothing matters until I say it matters. And then I choose what’s going to matter today.


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