Hey Kids! Remember Me?!

Yeah. Me neither.

There’s been a lot happening in my life since the last update. First, I spiraled into a world of hurt and depression and anxiety to the point where I wanted to end my life. The dark times were longer, the up times were shorter and dimmer, and I honestly thought that this was it.
Then I saw Dr. Patel. He’s the psychologist at the clinic where I see my therapist. My friend works there and arranged a meeting. Dr. Patel was very thorough with his questions about me and my depression. He asked me if I’d taken anything before and I replied yes and it nearly killed me. He prescribed venlafaxine and I’ve been taking it since April.

That first two weeks was, well, I didn’t know life could be like that. I had no idea how many thoughts, negative thoughts, were going through my head at all hours until they stopped. For the first time in my life there was silence. Blissful, long sought silence. I still got depressed, but instead of lasting weeks or a month or more, it was about two days of sadness and self pity. Then I pulled myself out of it.

The next meeting with Dr. Patel went well. He asked about the depression and I explained how short the bouts were now.
“That’s fantastic! What if I told you we could get rid of those two days?”
I jumped at it.
We upped my dosage from 37.5 to 75. I haven’t been depressed in a month and it’s been amazing. I haven’t had anxiety in a month and it’s wonderful. Sadness? REAL sadness? Like the sadness of losing my father? Yeah. That’s still there, but that’s legitimate sadness. That huge lump of self hatred I’ve been carrying my whole life? Mostly gone. All that’s left are habits and old thought patterns to be disrupted.

So all that being said, I guess I’m back to blogging to chronicle the process of healing and about the things I fill my life with now.

It’s good to be back.

Music and Me

I have probably one of the most strange relationships with music. I listen to music a couple of times a week at least and I use songs for inspiration a lot, but I have aversion to music, specifically live music. I can’t deal with it well. I swallow it sometimes, like when I went to see They Might Be Giants in New Orleans. I tried to deal with it by going to Fenian’s Pub here in Jackson, but eventually I had to stop going. I even have trouble with people singing around me. I start sort of shrinking away from them and want to run. Same with people playing instruments. The worst part is I’ve been like this since kindergarten at least. I remember we had to stand and sing along to a record and my¬†immediate reaction was to cover my ears and sit down. The teachers couldn’t move me or get me to do anything else until the music was over. I have no idea how they convinced me to get on stage for school plays when I was a kid. I was in a few, but man. That was very similar to hell for me.

The worst part of all that is that I love to sing. I would love to learn to play an instrument. I can’t though. Not really. The times I’ve “sang” TMBG song with my friends it’s not my real singing voice. I’m acting. I’m portraying someone who can’t really sing but can do it in public. Sometimes I can do my fake lounge singer voice, but I can’t actually sing in front of anyone. Even when I sing in the car I stop if someone is next to me at a stop light.

I’ve asked a few professionals about this sort of thing before and the most honest answer I’ve ever gotten was “I dunno. That’s pretty fucked up.” I want to enjoy music like other people. I want to share music like other people. That’s what music is supposed to be. Shared. Instead I keep it like a caged animal in a cave where eventually it’s just going to die.