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Call me crazy and I'll just shrug my shoulders. But call me stupid and I'll burn your fucking house down!
It's probably no consolation (and perhaps a pretty fucked-up thing to say) but I believe that the vast majority of people with mental/emotional issues are usually intelligent people - or at least folks with a heightened sense of both self-awareness and also a sense of the world around them.
Maybe that's me being snobby and trying to find some kind of twisted reason for my own depression. It's like 'I wish I was too dumb to realize I'm so unhappy - but I'm too self-aware'. But that kind of thinking is probably part of the problem. I have a lot guilt because I know there's people in much worse shape than me. My situation is tame compared to theirs so why can't I just 'snap out of it' and get on with my life?
So I'm in Woody Allen land at the moment and actually seeing two psychologists. That's as opposed to seeing two psychiatrists. Psychology is more to do with behavior which probably suits my case because I'm depressed about certain things in my life and unable to deal with them rather than being clinically depressed - which is a full-on mental illness (and which is what pyschiatrists deal with).
And this brings us back to my guilt thing. I think back to when I used to work at public housing estates and some of the tenants I got to know who suffered from either schizophrenia, depression or whatever. Some were in a really bad way and it would be an insult to them to say I can relate to their mental illness because I kinda feel fucked-up myself.
But I do feel the way I do.
The thing is to do something about it. Drugs are a weird thing. Anti-Depressants were offered to me but I said no - and thought "How dare they try and chemically fuck with my mind!" as I rolled myself a big fat joint. I only recently sussed out that I wasn't smoking dope for fun anymore - it had become a routine - and that contributed to my depression. So I have to avoid the sacred weed for a while and deal with reality. I much prefer escapism, but reality is the saner option (even if reality is insane at times).
So if drugs (whether they be prescribed or scored) aren't part of the solution then it's all up to me. That's where I'm lucky in a way - I only have to find the will, the discipline, the confidence and the courage to try and work it out - and ultimately learn to cope with life and all the shitty things it throws at you.
But still, everyone needs help - it took me ages to pluck up the courage to see a shrink and all but a handful of my friends and family have no idea that I am seeing someone. More shame and guilt on my part - but at least I have a few willing ears around happy to listen to my sob story. Oh - and a sense of humour. I've never lost that. Well, not for an extended period of time, anyway.
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