I've discovered a cure for depression.

I'm too fond of my jury-rigged psyche to need a cure for my "depression". So long as I'm living and breathing, I don't need a therapist or anything. All I need is to keep the proverbial darkness at bay for one more day, and things will be okay. Even if it's just for that day.

Besides, it's not as if depression is as much of an ass-pain to have as, say, PTSD or schizophrenia. It's a handicap, but people go through life with worse.

And besides, it keeps me from turning into an egotistical monster like Chris-chan, so maybe it's not such a bad thing after all.

Can't remember the last time I took pride in my art or writing. Tell me why I should be proud of the abominations I routinely shit out.

Bullshit. I don't need anyone else. Hell, I don't know if I have anyone else. And why should I ask for help if I'm perfectly, blessedly sane?

I put very little trust in what they say. People lie all the time, Ten. It's a basic fact of life. I have no intention of letting myself be swayed by sycophants and flatterers: that way, they cannot use me as they want to use me. Better to trust the voice in your head that tells you your faults so you can shape up.

After all, the truth hurts. If what a person tells you doesn't hurt you, then it is not the truth, and you can write it off as flattery. The truest statements are the ones that hurt the most.

edited 18th Dec '11 3:12:48 AM by Icarael

Icarael, your attitude is unhealthy and angers me. If nothing else, you appear to be compensating for your depression with fatalistic egotism and then trying to soften it with self-criticism. Been there, done that, it's a pile of bullshit.

Thread Hop

If you are referring to clinical depression...I'm pretty sure that's not how it works...

Jurry-rigging your psyche doesn't work. Not in the long run. I mean yeah, most days you can deal with it, and you can deny your problem exists. Over time, though, you slow down. You stop getting out and doing things.

You lose contact with your friends and family. Depending on how bad it is, you might lose your job, find yourself unwilling to expend the effort to obtain a new one, and wind up balls-deep in debt.

It's fine, though, you convince yourself. You don't need human contact, because people are asswipes and anything they say that doesn't reinforce your perceptions is a sugar-coated lie.

And it goes on, week after week, month after month, getting a little bit worse every day. It stops bothering you, really, after a while, because you get used to it. There's a little voice in the back of your head that complains occasionally, but you shut it up, because you don't want to think about it.

And then one day, you wake up at around five PM and realise that you've come a milimeter away from killing yourself, or have beaten someone about the head with a length of PVC piping and sent them to the hospital to get stitches in their scalps, or that you've barely moved and eaten even less in a season or two.

Worst thing is, the vast majority of people who find themselves in this situation do nothing to help it. A lot turn to drugs. Some turn to crime. Some decide that the air outside their window looks really inviting right now, and step out to meet it.

I'll put this as gingerly as I can: what you're selling, to yourself more than to anyone else, is a cold puddle of piss.

You have an option. You can continue to live in your self-imposed cage in silence, because, hey, a mildly unpleasant cage is a hell of a lot better than any number of things you can imagine, right?

Or you can take steps to break out. Call up your old friends, your family. Do shit. See a doctor. Fight, every day, to take some enjoyment out of life.

Being depressed doesn't mean you're weak. Curling up and letting depression make you its bitch without putting forth any effort to stop it does.

That is literally the entire point I have been trying to get across.

But you kept going on-and-on about distracting yourself from depression and placing so much importance on it and it seemed like a really bad idea.

Which does not match what Exe said.

No, I said do the opposite of what you feel like you should be doing. If want to sit in bed and do nothing, then go do something. That's where you keep getting the "distract yourself herp derp" argument from.

What?

-rolls eyes- Keeping yourself distracted by not listening to your depression.

If you get out of bed when you don't want to, that is still distracting yourself from depression. I'm not saying go to a fucking circus.

I think that the most important thing is realizing how much freedom you actually have, as opposed to thinking that the situation is hopeless. The very realization that you have some sort of say in what happens to your life.

This is where I'd also go into a long rant about my philosophy, my beliefs on God and predetermination and the absolute importance of freedom, but nobody wants to hear that.

CBT.

Oh, then why didn't you say so?

A perfectly good thread, ruined by a semantics debate, caused by poorly-chosen words.

Woe, woe is man! Weep, for joy is lost!

Who is this Woe, and why do I care if he's a man?

No, dude, you don't get it.

Woe is, man.

OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!

edited 18th Dec '11 5:24:23 AM by tendollarlameo

Did someone say circus?

Well no...but I typed it.

Yay, circus!

I've never actually been to one, though. It sure sounds like fun.

I got to be in a circus once. And the clowns took me out to go eat ice cream!

But the bastards may me pay for it.

Clowns are dicks.

Just look at their uncanny make up and sad eyes that stares into yer soul!

edited 18th Dec '11 5:47:15 AM by dRoy

I've been to a circus.

The clowns were very nice to me. They even took me into the back room for a private show! It was kinda scary, but I really liked it!

The big clown told me I couldn't tell my mommy, though.

And that's why I never went to Neverland Ranch.

what i'm saying is that they raped me. in the butthole.

don't tell my mommy

See, clowns are evil.