It is said that the most emotional of us are the most prone to depression and anxiety. Though many people may not see it on the surface, I know that this aphorism reflects a major downfall of my psychological wellbeing. For many years, this time on the calendar always marks the inception of another blue phase—a time where depression begins to set in and slow things down a bit.
It always tends to show up again when I have grown used to my current environment. I have a brain that yearns for constant change and development. Sitting in one place for too long is a good way to get me bitter and fidgety. But when that sense of restlessness is not fulfilled, it tends to bog me down a bit. The last couple of days, in particular, have archetypical of this tendency. I wake up, and everything around me seems to be grayer than normal. I note that getting out of bed is harder than normal. The same procedure that I have systematically done for years becomes distant and unfamiliar as I have to think of every single step in the process. I go to breakfast and eat the same food I have for months, but I cannot finish it all. Not even half. The mere idea of eating one more bite repulses me and I regrettably throw the rest away. I return to my room, half an hour remaining before class. I continue to get ready, checking to make sure my homework is complete. It isn't. I shrug it off and walk to my 8:30 calculus class. I take my seat three minutes late, my professor not even looking my way as he scrawls notes on the topic of the day on the blackboard. Class drones on and I have difficulty paying attention. My notes look messier than normal, my normal obsessiveness over the straightness of the lines or neatness of the penmanship the baby thrown out with the bathwater. By the end of class, I cannot sit still. My entire body aches for motion, compulsively causing my legs to twitch and grow ever restless. This is just a fifth of my overall day. The monotony only grows with each passing moment I remain awake, the cacophony of thoughts in my head forcing me to lust for silence and stagnation.
Reading the above paragraph was rather enlightening for me. I noticed contradictory thoughts and emotions that should not be together. But it clarifies all of the mind games I am forced to play in order to keep myself functioning. Every single day I have to dismiss and counter an endless stream of negative consciousness. Each and every thought I have tends to be self-destructive at this time of year. It is also at this point that I would normally resort to some antidepressant to do the work for me. But not this time. I have not had a good history with these chemicals. They always sedate me or work to counter the effects of the medications I need more than a Prozac or Wellbutrin. So now I have to stick solely to me and hope the years of therapy I have gone through to get me this far have been worth it.
From the limited experience I have with this session, I can say that I have been. All of these thoughts were originally put together during the form of therapy I have sought this year whenever my downtrodden disposition shows up. Each time I lose focus from my mental fog, I put everything down and walk until I have whatever thoughts I have out of my system. I crank up the most emotionally significant songs in my library and go. Sometimes it only takes a few minutes to clear my head. On nights like tonight, however, it must have taken an hour-and-a-half to do the job. Yet it always works. This article, ironically, was the thing that made me realize tonight was not going to be a night spent inside. When I left, I barely had the motivation to type a single word. Once I returned, two laps around campus later, I was ready to go. My energy was restored and I have put my thoughts from the trip together in record time.
I guess what is happening is that I am getting out of whatever environment is toxic at the time. I have even ended up walking out of class twice this year to take a brief walk around the quad outside my math classroom. It only takes five minutes and I walk back into class refreshed and focused. By doing that, it seems that my brain can focus on motion—something that requires literally all of my cognitive functions whenever I get like this. Walking forces my brain to turn back on and get me to where I need to be. The entire time, I lock myself into a state of catharsis, a vicarious journey through the music that I have selected for the sole purpose of therapeutic benefits. All of it gets me back on track and allows me to return to my normal self.
I have noticed that many of my articles tend to boil down to this kind of catharsis (homesickness, poverty, political cynicism, mourning the loss of journalism, etc.). Some thought begins to place pressure on my wellbeing, so I must work through it and overcome it. I get anchored down by may things which drive my philosophical brain into madness. Often times, these thoughts tend to come about when I am not active, the shower thoughts that endlessly ruminate in my unoccupied consciousness. So, even when my brain is running amok, I still would summarixe my strategy to overcoming depression as finding stability in spite of stagnation. Maybe others need the same advice. I am certain that my life would have been drastically easier if I had heard this from someone, anyone, who knew the struggle.
