So, the thing about depressive episodes is that they don’t give a flying fuck about your theology or your inspirational quotes or your positive thinking. Sometimes, they just have their way. You have to grab the fuck out of them and hold on tight until something else, anything else, comes within reach. Then, you grab at that something else with both hands, knowing that anything is better than staying on that ride. If you miss and you fall, then you just fall and it’s over. If you get a grip on that other something, then you can reevaluate your circumstances from a new perspective.
I’m blessed in that I know that something always comes around and I’ve mastered the art of getting a good grip on it. I know that I won’t fall & that simple knowledge keeps me from doing just that. So, I surrender. I’ll retreat into myself & feel those awful feelings. Eventually, the cry that is burning my soul, lamenting its prison, growing, and demanding to be ripped from me will have its way. And, something will come along for me to grab ahold of. It’ll be the slightest incline, but enough to make a huge impact on my psyche. And, I’ll be okay. The cycle, and it is a cycle, will reset and, hopefully, the episodes will be fewer and farther between each other.
This, believe it or not, is what is considered to be “optimism.” I firmly assert that I’m a realist. Shit has the propensity to get very “real” and extremely ugly before it upturns. But, apparently, the mere fact that I believe in an upturn makes me an optimist. To that, I propose that the fact that I understand that things are, rather, cyclical, makes me a realist. I can choose any perspective from which to begin or end & I choose to “end” on a happy note. But, that’s only for the cycle to begin, again. It’s not a true ending. It never ends. Things will be shitty, again. And, then better. So on and so forth. See? Not an optimist. I’ll grudgingly accept pessimist (for the “gothy,” dark cool-points). But, really, I’m a realist.
Because labels are very, very important. 😛