Monday, 3 February 2014

I Think I Might Be Depressed

It's cold outside today, that grey of cold gun metal, harsh cold that seems to steal life in its passing, crushing the hopes of those seeking the warmth of spring. There is a thin, brisk wind blowing by, shaking the branches of my tree, just enough to make it appear shivering yet not enough to dislodged the chunks of icy snow gripping the needles and branches. It is the kind of day where wakening seems a bad idea.

Waken I did, to what is now becoming an almost daily ritual, a morning panic attack. These are momentary anxiety events, falling on me as I wake and consider my situation, as I think about the things I did and said the day before, seeing myself harshly and judging myself unfairly for who and what I am. It is within these small moments in the morning where my thoughts flood with the utter failure of my life, its pointlessness, its emptiness. Fear and doubt are my daily waking companions for those moments; it is an act of will that I dismiss them as the ragings of an unmanaged and ill-prepared mind, fighting past them to start my day.

Self-condemnation is deep within me, taught to me early and used by others to manage me. I can still remember my Dad saying to me, as I was chattering away, perhaps around 12 years old, "learn to think before you talk", implying somehow that my words and ideas were thoughtless. I remember the scorn of his judgement, how he would call me "stupid" and his readiness to dismiss me. And I get angry at myself when I realize I have done this to my own son.

Words have always had power over me. I spent a great many years with my ex-wife taking my words and inverting or perverting them for use as weapons in future arguments. I must not be much of a man if I am so easily driven to paroxisms of self-flagellation over mere words, so self-judgemental that even the lightest of judgements from others could drive me to the darkest of self-loathing.

For all my outward strength, I forever fight this inward battle. I am getting tired of it, tired of this eternal internal winter, the feeling that no matter how I feel outside I will never feel warmth inside, that I can never truly love myself, that I am unworthy of love. I am tired of it, the sense that there is something so horribly, innately wrong with me that I have been afflicted with this disease as some sort of punishment simply because of who I am. I am tired of waking each day only to have to convince myself that I am worthy, that I have value, that I can be loved.


  1. Oh my dearest you are worth so much more than you believe. I value you so highly and have a great need for you. It saddens me that you feel this way every day upon wakening. You are so lovable and i want to hug you to transmit my feelings of love and joy in your being. Be kind to yourself. love Mom

  2. Listen to your mother, Richard!

    Right on, Nan!!!

  3. Your a good mom! Richard everyday you wake up is a new day, a fresh start. God is using you for a reason, maybe to help someone like me cope with my fathers disease. It's a true blessing to read your words. You are so worthy!

    1. Hi Tiffany

      This disease is a tough ride but it doesn't all have to be doom and gloom. It its ups and downs, just like anything else. I am sure you see your Dad with good days and bad days. Just keep on loving him, keep on helping him, and keep on living life as it comes. He will see you and that will help him even more.