Melancholy Minutes

 This cold, dreary morning bids the question why I exist. We go through this every year, but this time around it is another level of levelness. Perhaps one day I will figure it out, but for now it is still helping people. This is what depressed people think about, so if you are wondering about the scattered mind, you might take a listen now. 

The episode covers this moment where I feel the icy hands of depression and isolation and blend them in with the metaphor of a cold, rainy California winter. By the way, I really need to get into minimalism. 

What happens when you bottle up your emotions? You might feel the same outrage people feel these days about bad rum in plastic containers (see Nuka Rum). The breakdown of this rum product is a good comparison to a depressed person and how they have to hide their pain. 

You see the darkness

Hello peace my old friend

It started with a call to a customer. This customer railed about a representative he was annoyed with. This representative was confused and befuddled. He was a terrible person and needed to be educated on what our company sells. This representative was me.

I knew this going into the call. I had talked to this gentleman a few times already with very little success. Whether it was a dialect issue where slangs and accents were king, or a bad day had by all, the weight was on my shoulders. I had to swallow my pride, admit I was wrong yet again, and inform the customer his order was delayed. This is one of my typical calls.

My supervisor praised me for taking the call. They were going to call as soon as I did. I thanked them for the praise, but this was a mess I created. I had to clean it up. Even if it meant I had to listen to the constant beratement from an annoyed customer, it meant I would get better. Feedback is king, after all.

Why this signals hypocrisy in my own life

I can’t apply this to my life because I must find value in it first. As a man ever on a quest to be the best turtle he can be, there is nothing I want to do more than to let life pass me by while I keep studying and searching for “the answer.” I could work with myself as a lean company, getting rid of waste and maximizing potential, but I am not a company, much less a valued brand.

I am a survivor. I went through hell in my youth. I earned this entropy. If anything, the people I hear telling me I should find meaning and live for another person are hiding from their own pain. How dare they sell me their ideas? Don’t they know I am a survivor?

My nightmare is showing. A nightmare is an undead unicorn. A symbol of hope and goodness now turned and twisted into the tool of destruction and decay. While I am merely a human, my mind is much like a tethered undead horse, willing to ride into the brink and carry the souls of the righteous with me. Bad nightmare, no worm biscuits!

When did I receive my nightmare?

I’d say the moment happened when we were homeless. We lost our home because my grandfather couldn’t keep his hands off children. We were propped up by his wages, on the hook to his whims because we were poor in a rich man’s land. We bounced from place to place, sleeping in the back of Pinto and finally ending up in a homeless shelter. This was the beginning of the truth.

We sat by a koi pond. I remember the multicolored fish swimming around and doing their thing. I knew a few gentlemen liked my mother and I asked her about it. She turned to me and said she didn’t want to be happy because she was trying to protect me. She didn’t want to hurt me, nor did she want to confuse me by dating someone else. She was also hiding a secret. She was a lesbian.

I took this lie to heart

I spent my days pushing people away because of this. I simmered in loss and confusion, letting the natural feedback of cold and distant people tell me that I was indeed cold and distant. I needed to be removed from this world because I

What happens when you are in an emotion recession? This episode explores the ways my emotional recession changes me for the best and the worst.

Transcript

I stand in your way

When you face your own demons

It is hard to walk into a home and feel the conflict. The conflict fuels the depression, but it also stirs buried emotions. The demons long asleep now rise, beating their wings and howling for blood. This is all before the key slides into the lock, so you can image what it is like when I step into the living room. Conflict is not my best situation, but it is something I do every day.

A long day of conflict and struggle leads to a passive-aggressive note. That passive-aggressive note leads to angry replies. Angry replies lead to more distance. More distance leads to conflict. The cycle goes on and on. If we had any courage, we would break the cycle and get this over with, but this is the modern times we live in.

This new year will usher in the same things. The new sword hanging over our head is the evictions that will come city wide as the people who manage this building feel the cold icy touch of an economic recession in the vein of rent control. It’s time to clean out the old and start with the new.

It started with a poor decision

I’ll admit it: I am a poor judge of character. I feel my gut instincts, but I will ignore them due to necessity. If I am in a pinch, I will take the risk because it is what is right for the moment. I am not a long-range thinker because my trauma and depression turned me into a survival now kind of person. If I can trust you now, then who cares what happens in the future?

These decisions mirror my life. It took me too long to go see a therapist, yet I did so and lost the window to keep interested. I am told goals are the most important thing to go into a therapist with, but at this point my goals are so short and immediate I can’t see into next month, much less five years from now. My mirror is cracked, and I know it.

More poor decisions compound on more poor decisions leading to a decision recession where choices are made because they are the only ones available. There are no options when a survivor leads this lifestyle, but there is no choice in the matter. Pay the piper now and let the inflation happen. Challenge makes us better people, or so they tell me.

Where do we go from here?

The cold morning is a harsh mistress for an aging man like me. My options are limited and my mentality is optional. I can be my own salvation, but I can’t be bothered. The ice kiss of the star filled void sums up my feelings this morning, and that is okay. A harsh mistress for harsh times.

I still must keep working with the limits assets I have. I can talk, I can help those who seek help, and I can find opportunities to move on and make the most of it. Of course, fear stands in the way. My brain, like yours, stands in our way to limit our pain. It tries its best to make sure we are safe and nothing will happen to us. Such a good little brain.

Power resides on the other side of your obstacles. The harder you try to push through, the worse you’ll receive pushback. Instead, working around them with the help of others can make things far better than suffering on your own alone. Unless you’re into that sort of thing. I wouldn’t dream of taking your power away from you.

For the record: California’s tax policies suck

What is depression other than a wake disguised as a wedding? I share a quick story about my tale about a beautiful wedding with interesting consequences for me and my best friend depression.

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