Coming Back To Life

Being different has become what could be called a standard in modern (western) societies. We are ready to call a lot of looks, behaviours and points of view acceptable. But while the way we dress, the lifestyle we choose and the things we believe in are subjects of races for the weirdest possible, we still struggle to keep an open mind when it comes to what happens to what we more often than not call minorities. It is acceptable to be different as long as it impresses others, as long as it is "hip" or "cool". As soon as it comes to problems or handicaps, many people feel the pressure to keep it to themselves, thus trying to draw the least possible attention to their very person or to what they are suffering from.

This world can be quite a dark and cold place to live in. Within the moment you have to open your eyes and leave your warm bed, you can find yourself deprived of all the precious energy you somehow managed to regain during the night, which has been far too short, because your brain wouldn't have let you enter the realms of  Morpheus for too long. The idea of leaving the house makes you feel sick, while driving to work, you can hardly fight the urge to vomit. You don't want to stay with those people, nine or ten hours, maybe more. You don't want to listen to them, you don't want to solve the problems that they caused themselves.
You want to go home, where it is safe, where it is warm. You feel sick of fighting, even though somewhere, deep inside, you know you should, you should try. But you have lost your strength on the way already. Everything is cold, everything is dark, and it feels like it is all closing in on you. There is no easy way to explain it to others, and the unsolicited advice just upsets you, if there would be any power left, you would be wild with rage. But because you just don't want to listen to them any more, you become a hermit, your flat turns into your safe haven.
You feel trapped. You are trapped. And you cannot escape without help. Without it, it is a downward spiral, without support, there is no way out. Because deep inside you know, that tomorrow will be even worse. And while considering options, considering all options, you turn to your bed. After the lights have been turned off, the world is still dark, but at least this is a warm place. What would be the difference if you would not wake up again?

This sounds depressing. There is quite an easy explanation why it does: this is how a depression can make you feel. Actually, this is (in excerpts) how it made me feel. Not for the first time, sadly, and quite likely not for the last time. Depressions and burnout are proper conditions which need proper treatment. The weird thing is, that, just like a drug addiction, depressions cannot be cured, at least not like a cold, a broken bone, or anything like that. Chances are that they return and strike again. The only way to deal with them is to keep them in check, trying to be prepared, by avoiding situations that will quite possibly trigger them, and by raising awareness for early symptoms.

One of the biggest deals about fighting depressions is, that is necessary to swallow one's pride. Again, just like fighting an addiction, one needs to trust some others by telling them about the issue, and by asking them to support the efforts to avoid the real trouble. It isn't easy to accept hints from the people that surround you, but those who share parts of your life with you and know about the issue can be a reliable source for much needed feedback. Apart from that, they can help you to get out of the downward spiral before you are in too deep. - It is hard to get there, to entrst yourself to others. But it is totally worth all the efforts. Seriously.

There is a huge impact on almost every sphere of life: job, relationships, social life - you name it. The point is to realise that there is quite a difference between having a bad day at work, or not feeling like meeting with friends or going to the movies, and feeling permanently overwhelmed by the job, feeling scared by the idea to meet people, not to mention finding yourself surrounded by strangers. As soon as the bare ideas already start to worry someone to death, that is no longer simply odd or weird, but about someone's world that is about to collapse. And this someone may not be able to ask for help any more.

When depressions hit me for the first time in my life, about 15 years ago, I somehow managed to ask for help. I cannot remember how, and at this point of my life, it really doesn't matter any more. What is far more important is, that I did learn a lot about myself, about the ways the human brain works, and about the pressure everyday life creates. Think about it for a moment. (Take your time. I am going nowhere without you.) Isn't it amazing how we manage to deal with it all, day by day, and somehow manage to survive without suffering from serious damage of body or soul? Well, at least most of the time, we do.

I, for one, managed to come back to life. Somehow. And I think because I did, depression isn't such a scary thing to me any more. But it still is a dangerous condition, even more so as it is either under control - or not. Since that first time I suffered from depressions, I am a little bit more prepared, at least I feel like I am, and I learned to listen to my body and my soul. Coming back to life isn't easy, though, and leading a "normal" life can be quite difficult. Depressions will never leave, and as soon as I fail to preserve my equilibrium for some time, I have to deal with the consequences. It had to. Two more times, so far, with the last major episode not so long ago.

I am coming back to life, again. It takes me longer to get there this time, but I have no doubt that I will. The main difference of this approach is, that I am working from the outside to the inside. But how? I found a new job that I really like, I had to move into a new flat that is bigger and brighter, and I smile a lot. It is funny, but especially that smiling bit is working wonders. It is an honest smile. (You can tell by the crow's-feet around my eyes.) The best thing about it is, that it is not only helping me to stay relaxed and calm (well, most of the times, that is), but it makes the people I meet during the day smile too. It makes life easier, mine as well as theirs. Life is good.

Coming back to life also means that I have to relearn a lot of things. Most of my former (social) contacts have become non-existent. Socialising has been some kind of blind spot, all of my life. Crowds of people have always been suspicious to me, and I never felt exactly comfortable when meeting and talking to strangers. But nobody ever said that coming back to life would be an easy thing. Having a life is a challenge, day by day. And maybe, at some point in the future, I will be ready again to share my life with somebody else. I would love to. But let's not rush things. Meeting people and finding new friends will do for starters.

So, if you meet a stranger these days, wearing a panama hat, with a knowing and warm smile on his face, and a twinkle in his eye, well, that could be me.

Coming back to life.


PS: Yes, it is true, this post's caption and the title of a song by Pink Floyd, they actually are identical.

All These Scars Are Mine

Personally, I don't believe that there are days of the week or months that are predestinated to be good or bad ones, holding good or bad luck. But I do believe that that life is an ongoing, daily challenge, and while some days are easy ones to make it through, others are quite a fight, from the moment the alarm goes off in the morning, until I finally manage to fall asleep at night somehow.

Don't get me wrong: I don't intend to complain. Far from it! As a matter of fact I know people who would have every reason to to complain, to whine, but most of them don't. No, they just don't do it. I have great respect for them, as every day of their lives is a struggle. I do what I can to help them, of course, but most of the time my humble efforts to support them only make both of us feel worse, but at least they make their lives a bit easier to deal with.

What I find interesting about it is, that while those people seem to have mostly memories of good times and enjoyable moments of their lives, for me it sadly seems more easy to recall situations, days and events that left me with bad feelings. I am aware of the fact that it is mostly a question of the personal mindset. I had the chance to discuss this with psychologists, and they convinced me that this is a sensible way to think of it.

Fighting personal demons means to confront them. It doesn't matter what it is that scares us, it doesn't matter what we are running away from. If we want to bring on a change, if we want to take back control of our life, we have to stop running away. We have toturn around and face what is frightening us. The demons may not go away, but as soon as we know them, as soon as we name them, they become less powerful, less important, and we may get back what could be called inner peace and a normal life.

For me, September has brought to me some of the most significant changes to my personal life ever. Even while I am writing these lines I am not sure whether I really should share this with the rest of the world. Well, if you can read this, my decision was obviously to finish the draft and publish this text, and I am about to share some personal bits of my life with you, which left quite some scars running across both, my heart as well as my soul.

Three years ago my to-be ex-wife had just moved out of the place we had shared for years. That semidetached house became quite a weird place to live in, even more so as I only spent the weekends there. Finding yourself abandoned, facing the remains of what was meant to be a part of the future, isn't the easiest life situation to deal with. To me, it was even harder as I had to clean up the place and prepare my own move, finding myself questioning many of my decisions, again and again. Learning that the significant other had decided to leave me was by far the worst experience I had made so far at that point in my life. Literally watching things falling apart took it to the next level, and I felt sick of life back then. Obviously, I chose not to use a quick exit.

Last year I had just hit the ground, going down in a spiral of what the doctors (later) referred to as burnout. At that point, I didn't expect that it would take me only half a year to get up on my feet again. Only few things kept me going, again I considered the ultimate exit strategy. Luckily, I managed to ask for professional help and support. That I had to give up my job, well, it was an absolute necessity. That I had to move again was an inevitable decision, which I did even welcome. It was one thing to discover that I had reached a dead end in my life; to even start making the needed U-turn was a completely different story. I didn't expect it to work out for me. Today, I am happy it did.

Those incidents were like a slap in the face that made me think a lot. Both were wake-up calls, but somehow I didn't really get up the first time. Thinking and writing about those chapters of my life still hurts. I never seriously considered a relationship ever since, but this may change. I found a new job which I like very much. Taking a step back and looking at my current situation, my life from a distance, I tend to say that things look a lot better now, and I am grateful that I (somehow) managed to get my life back, even though there are some scars left to remind me.

But all these scars, they are mine.


PS: Some of you may have realised it that this post's title is a line taken from the lyrics of a song by INXS, 'The Gift', which is one of my all-time favorite songs.