One does not simply just “get over” depression

(NOTE: This is an edit and update from a previous post I had done on depression.)

“You are one of the most un-depressed depressed people I know,” Kat said to me one morning on our usual Friday morning runs. When she said that to me, I had to smile. Thing is, she wasn’t the first person that has ever said that to me. She isn’t going to be the last one either.

That’s right. I’m coming out and admitting it in a public forum. I have severe clinical depression.

It used to be my “dirty little secret;” something I kept from people because I was afraid of what they would think of me if they knew that I was seriously screwed up in the head. The few people I tried to talk to about it, family included, used tell me that it was just a case of the blues or that I didn’t really have a reason to feel the way I did. I actually had someone close to me tell me that they didn’t understand why I was taking anti-depressants and that I was weak because of it. I had it pretty great, why did I feel like I did?

I don’t have an answer for you that you are going to understand other than “I just do.”

Continue reading

Welcome to the new world.

I’m stuck trying to figure out who I am. It’s easier said than done; realistically you figure out your identity when you are younger and have a chance to experiment in life. But sometimes incidents happen that make you take a hard look at your reflection and wonder who that person is looking back at you.

I didn’t like who I had become. I didn’t know that at the time either.

It’s almost been a year since I left TV, and it’s been a roller coaster of adventure trying to determine just who I really am without that identifier. I’ve learned little things, like I love flowers and I want to be outside as much as possible. I’ve learned big things, like I enjoy quiet time as much as I do music, and I love not knowing everything that is happening day to day. But I still don’t know who I am.

I know that I still have that sarcastic sense of humor and beautiful eyes. I know that I love loud music and jamming out. I know that I miss working out regularly and fitting into my size 12 jeans, but I also love taffy and Peterbrooke’s milk chocolate covered popcorn. I like to color, to read, to take pictures of things, and to run. I still don’t like bugs or spiders, onions, screaming children and being spoken to as if I was moron. (Which, in case you didn’t know, I’m not)

But that isn’t who I am, right? It’s a philosophical journey to determine just who a person is anymore, and I think I am still slowly taking steps in that direction. I think back to the girl I was and I didn’t like that I was miserable, that I didn’t laugh as easily or as often, that I didn’t joke around as much, that I didn’t find joy in things that I used to love.

I want to find happiness and joy, I want to laugh and play, I want to feel confident enough to grab life by the horns and say “You are mine to control” and then let it wander free just to see where it takes me. Just because I can.

A new adventure, riddled with complicated simplicity. Welcome to the new world.siggy