The hopeless mood of yesterday carried over to today. But the resolve to get up and do SOMETHING also carried over. Laundry, cleaning, etc.
In a few minutes I will be heading to Kat's to work on a few small things, then a serious talk with Shannon (who is busy self destructing). Then to Tooele to put more energy into the house. Tomorrow is back to work, without coming back to sleep in my own bed. Then the gym, and home, and back .... here.
I realized as the struggles of the last few days that much of it is tied to this place. The mind ties a place to the actions and emotions most commonly experienced in that place. So I left the place and went to a new place. I got into a good headspace. When I returned to this place, the place itself brought me back to the old headspace.
Time to clean house?????
Showing posts with label Depression. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Depression. Show all posts
Sunday, January 04, 2009
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Depression calling
[Backfill: Posted 5-6-2008 from an offline journal entry.]
About a month ago I entered a state of depression. This followed a period several weeks long of being and feeling neutral. At first I judged that the depression was going to last a week or two and run its course without any focused or sustained action. But instead it got slowly worse. Today I realized that action was needed and determined to take that action.
What brought it to a head today was no longer being able to endure staying at work, due to a combination of the depression and fatigue. So I left work two hours early. On the drive home I decided to take a two hour nap to address the fatigue, then set a course of action for dealing with the depression.
About a month ago I entered a state of depression. This followed a period several weeks long of being and feeling neutral. At first I judged that the depression was going to last a week or two and run its course without any focused or sustained action. But instead it got slowly worse. Today I realized that action was needed and determined to take that action.
What brought it to a head today was no longer being able to endure staying at work, due to a combination of the depression and fatigue. So I left work two hours early. On the drive home I decided to take a two hour nap to address the fatigue, then set a course of action for dealing with the depression.
Sunday, May 29, 2005
Magpies and Lawn Clippings
I'm spending coffee money in the hopes of meeting chics. It isn't turning out to be a success. Renee is dealing with grass and vacuums from last night’s show. It seems the band decided to enhance the show by emptying a few bags of lawn clippings into the crowd. It spread from the dance floor to just about every corner of the shop. Renee had spent hours cleaning it, and was just finishing up as I arrived. She was not happy.
In addition to chics, I was also after some peace and quiet. Finding neither, I left Steamers and went to the Paul Reams park. Here I was entertained by Magpies. There is a nest at the West end of the park. I counted six Magpies - two adults, two chicks, and what may have been two yearlings (I wasn't sure - they weren't quite as large as the adults and the coloring was subtly different). I spent about an hour watching the birds, being captivated by their antics. Then headed back to Steamers.
The roots of my depression have not changed in the last 25 years. What has changed is (looking for a metaphor that works here...). Think of the cause of the depression as what casts the shadow. This is still the same. What has changed is the source of the light. It used to be the expectations imposed on me by the Mormon gestalt. Now the light is cast by my own expectations. In both cases, the shadow is cast by my failure to live up to what is expected. For the last few weeks (or several weeks, if I feel like beating up on myself) I've not been living up to my expectations of myself.
"Englishmen, especially Englishmen who drink, have strict habits." - Bill Gaston in 'a Forest Path'
"You notice that very young babies move with the whole their bodies toward an object that excites their interest. Arms, legs, mouth, everything is in motion. Over time, they do not develop fine-muscle control at all but learn instead to restrain all but those the need to pick up the tiny object. The capacity is there. But with so much interference there is no freedom. And freedom after all is what's important in the subject of restraint." - 'Another Axis Within' from Parabola, XXX, 2.
In addition to chics, I was also after some peace and quiet. Finding neither, I left Steamers and went to the Paul Reams park. Here I was entertained by Magpies. There is a nest at the West end of the park. I counted six Magpies - two adults, two chicks, and what may have been two yearlings (I wasn't sure - they weren't quite as large as the adults and the coloring was subtly different). I spent about an hour watching the birds, being captivated by their antics. Then headed back to Steamers.
The roots of my depression have not changed in the last 25 years. What has changed is (looking for a metaphor that works here...). Think of the cause of the depression as what casts the shadow. This is still the same. What has changed is the source of the light. It used to be the expectations imposed on me by the Mormon gestalt. Now the light is cast by my own expectations. In both cases, the shadow is cast by my failure to live up to what is expected. For the last few weeks (or several weeks, if I feel like beating up on myself) I've not been living up to my expectations of myself.
"Englishmen, especially Englishmen who drink, have strict habits." - Bill Gaston in 'a Forest Path'
"You notice that very young babies move with the whole their bodies toward an object that excites their interest. Arms, legs, mouth, everything is in motion. Over time, they do not develop fine-muscle control at all but learn instead to restrain all but those the need to pick up the tiny object. The capacity is there. But with so much interference there is no freedom. And freedom after all is what's important in the subject of restraint." - 'Another Axis Within' from Parabola, XXX, 2.
Sunday, May 15, 2005
Under the Whip
Everything under this date heading was written July 8 and July 20. Except for this paragraph, it was culled from the end of the previous entry and from random scribbles. Events were somewhere in the time frame of April and the first two weeks of May.
Around the first of May, the Thelemic Magick seminar stopped. Mark and Amber broke up and he moved out of her house. There was some noise for a few weeks about getting it going again at a new location, but that didn’t happen. I did see Mark once after this, May 15th at Gnostic Mass in Ogden, but not since then. At that time he was living in a small trailer at the KOA on North Temple, and he was in the ever-so-intimate company of a woman whose name I can’t remember, but who said I could just call her "Angel." Right. I was not impressed with Angel (but I have been wrong about such things in the past). I was also wondering about Mark. He didn’t give a lot of detail about what had happened, and I didn’t ask, but he was talking it up like it was a good and needed thing, and that he was much happier. I had my doubts - it sounded to me as if either he was talking like this in an attempt to convince himself of his own words, or as if he was ignoring a few ugly side effects that had yet to seek him out and shake him up a bit. But I dismissed all this from my mind and decided to just make use of the man...
I was at Ra Hoor Khuit Oasis for the purpose of being baptized. I had e-mailed ahead to clear it with the people in charge, but found out at the last minute that I needed two people to sponsor me. As soon as Mark showed up, I knew I had one person. I found the second in the person of a gentleman named Rick. About 10 years older than me, he had lived for awhile in Provo at the Hotel Roberts. He and I had a good talk together, and I felt comfortable with him. He was pleased to help me.
The baptism was pretty cool. I hadn’t reviewed the ritual before Mass, so I was pleasantly surprised by some bits of it. I loved the phrase "...deliver me from evil and from good...", as well as the symbolism of dipping the rose in the wine then letting the wine fall from the rose to my head.
Somewhere in this time frame I had a minor adventure with Beverly and Holly. I found myself at their place after another activity and was introduced to the game "Exclamation Poker". In this game you are dealt a hand and then come up with the word or phrase - the exclamation - that best fits the hand. The winner is not the person with the best hand, but the person who best describes his hand.
During this period of time I was also preparing for my first degree initiation in the O.T.O.. Among other things, I got the application from Sara, talked Beverly and Holly into sponsoring me, and purchased the material for my Tau robe. While She Who Spends Money in Exotic Lands was in Europe in May and June, on a few Department of Defense contracts, I made an utter mess of the living room and got the robe made. It was tiring yet satisfying work. The finished product was pretty good looking, especially for a duffer like myself.
Also in this period of time, I saw my internet habits once more interfering with my life - taking time and directing choices, so I reigned it in. I haven’t deleted and purged, but I set some rules. The rules have taken hold and, gosh and surprise, I’ve hardly looked at it since then. I am such a monkey.
I also got a notebook that will be devoted to the First Ordeal as Depression. As mentioned before, if I am pegging this wrong, at least the work won’t be wasted. At the same time, I have been able to write barely a page in the book. It seems that I am usually too busy or too tired and, and least on one occasion, too depressed.
Around the first of May, the Thelemic Magick seminar stopped. Mark and Amber broke up and he moved out of her house. There was some noise for a few weeks about getting it going again at a new location, but that didn’t happen. I did see Mark once after this, May 15th at Gnostic Mass in Ogden, but not since then. At that time he was living in a small trailer at the KOA on North Temple, and he was in the ever-so-intimate company of a woman whose name I can’t remember, but who said I could just call her "Angel." Right. I was not impressed with Angel (but I have been wrong about such things in the past). I was also wondering about Mark. He didn’t give a lot of detail about what had happened, and I didn’t ask, but he was talking it up like it was a good and needed thing, and that he was much happier. I had my doubts - it sounded to me as if either he was talking like this in an attempt to convince himself of his own words, or as if he was ignoring a few ugly side effects that had yet to seek him out and shake him up a bit. But I dismissed all this from my mind and decided to just make use of the man...
I was at Ra Hoor Khuit Oasis for the purpose of being baptized. I had e-mailed ahead to clear it with the people in charge, but found out at the last minute that I needed two people to sponsor me. As soon as Mark showed up, I knew I had one person. I found the second in the person of a gentleman named Rick. About 10 years older than me, he had lived for awhile in Provo at the Hotel Roberts. He and I had a good talk together, and I felt comfortable with him. He was pleased to help me.
The baptism was pretty cool. I hadn’t reviewed the ritual before Mass, so I was pleasantly surprised by some bits of it. I loved the phrase "...deliver me from evil and from good...", as well as the symbolism of dipping the rose in the wine then letting the wine fall from the rose to my head.
Somewhere in this time frame I had a minor adventure with Beverly and Holly. I found myself at their place after another activity and was introduced to the game "Exclamation Poker". In this game you are dealt a hand and then come up with the word or phrase - the exclamation - that best fits the hand. The winner is not the person with the best hand, but the person who best describes his hand.
During this period of time I was also preparing for my first degree initiation in the O.T.O.. Among other things, I got the application from Sara, talked Beverly and Holly into sponsoring me, and purchased the material for my Tau robe. While She Who Spends Money in Exotic Lands was in Europe in May and June, on a few Department of Defense contracts, I made an utter mess of the living room and got the robe made. It was tiring yet satisfying work. The finished product was pretty good looking, especially for a duffer like myself.
Also in this period of time, I saw my internet habits once more interfering with my life - taking time and directing choices, so I reigned it in. I haven’t deleted and purged, but I set some rules. The rules have taken hold and, gosh and surprise, I’ve hardly looked at it since then. I am such a monkey.
I also got a notebook that will be devoted to the First Ordeal as Depression. As mentioned before, if I am pegging this wrong, at least the work won’t be wasted. At the same time, I have been able to write barely a page in the book. It seems that I am usually too busy or too tired and, and least on one occasion, too depressed.
Friday, March 18, 2005
Ordeals
The depression I mentioned in my previous journal entry looked like it was going away when I wrote, but instead it turned worse and stayed around for a while. This isn't the first time I've gone through bouts like this, but it my reaction to it this time was different. Something in me stood up and said, "Enough is enough." The time has come to make some changes and deal with the depression, once and for all.
The O.T.O. members I talk to speak in reverenced tones about "The Ordeals", but not as something written in stone that comes down from the initiators or body masters. Instead, the ordeals happen on their own, at the bequest of the universe. The consensus is that, as soon as you choose to seek an initiation (either making the choice or handing in the application) the wheels of the universe are set in motion and the ordeal begins. Only Mark has given the details of one of his ordeals, having to deal with his 16 year old daughter having a baby. With my Minerval, it seemed to be LL crawling out of the woodworks. So this last weekend I decided to get the ball rolling for my First Degree and baptism at the next Gnostic Mass. This was about the time I decided to do something about the depression. This isn't a new thought for me, but after hearing the other people talk, I backed off from it, thinking it was written in stone that the ordeal would choose me instead of me choosing it. But then this fit of depression hit, and the uncharacteristic reaction to finally do something with it, and I had to reverse myself yet again. I think this is the ordeal. And if I am wrong? The effort won't be wasted…and the real ordeal will certainly find me.
The O.T.O. members I talk to speak in reverenced tones about "The Ordeals", but not as something written in stone that comes down from the initiators or body masters. Instead, the ordeals happen on their own, at the bequest of the universe. The consensus is that, as soon as you choose to seek an initiation (either making the choice or handing in the application) the wheels of the universe are set in motion and the ordeal begins. Only Mark has given the details of one of his ordeals, having to deal with his 16 year old daughter having a baby. With my Minerval, it seemed to be LL crawling out of the woodworks. So this last weekend I decided to get the ball rolling for my First Degree and baptism at the next Gnostic Mass. This was about the time I decided to do something about the depression. This isn't a new thought for me, but after hearing the other people talk, I backed off from it, thinking it was written in stone that the ordeal would choose me instead of me choosing it. But then this fit of depression hit, and the uncharacteristic reaction to finally do something with it, and I had to reverse myself yet again. I think this is the ordeal. And if I am wrong? The effort won't be wasted…and the real ordeal will certainly find me.
Friday, March 11, 2005
Triggers
First let me report on the mundane happenings in my universe. ADP informed us all last month that we are moving to a common review date for yearly raises. April 1st for the raise, so the reviews get done during March. My last review was in November, so this one will be prorated for the short number of months. The money part of it has the potential to be rather nice, but I'm not sure this makes up for what a pain in the ass it was to do the review, especially when I have barely recovered from the trauma of my last review. But it was nice to be dealing with Johnny this time instead of Kris. I also found that my classification is Tech 3 - top for my department (but likely lower than reality). This is better than the Tech 2 they pasted on me after the acquisition.
The last several weeks I have been attending a 'Thelemic Magick and Mysticism' class at Amber's place, taught by Mark Anthony. While the quality of the 'class' is nothing to strike fear into the hearts of college instructors, the actual flow and results have been great. Every week turns into a pretty good discussion, even when it veers wildly off topic. But most important, the class has got me (and a few others) started on doing a daily practice. We started out with the first leg of Yoga and tried to progress though them one each week. This is an absurdly fast pace for true practice, but there really is no other way to teach it in a group such as ours. I have settled on a version of yoga that emphasizes observing body and mind, while not trying to control the mind. I'll move to that later. I'm up to 30 minutes of asana (admittedly it is sloppy asana), 3 to 4 times a week. It feels good.
Last weekend I made myself a white robe. I had two aims in mind. First, I needed to learn and practice for making a black robe for my first degree initiation. Second, I need a white robe for my confirmation into the ECG. The project took me most of the weekend. It looks pretty good on me, has no major flaws, but would make a real seamstress swoon in dismay. Among other things, I learned the black robe will have to have the edges all sewed up to keep end threads from unraveling in the wash. I'm hoping to purchase black material tomorrow and get started this weekend, then finish next weekend. Also next weekend, I'll be asking for my first degree application.
But all that stuff above is just bookkeeping. The real issues right now are depression and anger. It is odd that one of the results of the yoga has been to increase self awareness and observation - seeing the bullshit for what it is and separating from it. I would expect this self awareness to be good for me, but it isn't working out that way this time. It seems that the self awareness is only having an influence on the level of the intellect - the "thinking" Andy. On the level of emotion, the "feeling" Andy, I am - to quote Trent Reznor, "Down in it." It's an odd feeling, sort of like the ego-dystonic state that an OCD victim finds herself in. Here I am getting all wrapped up in bad reactions and feelings, while a part of me is watching it all happen, detached and separate, with a sort of shock and amazement.
The stage for this was set last week when Kate e-mailed her first play in our Scrabble by Mail game. She used all seven letters to rack up a hefty opening score, but with a word that she essentially made up. She confessed that it isn't in the dictionary, but that it was still valid for some bullshit reason or another. I plugged it into Google and found that Microsoft uses it as some sort of private geek term, but only in the same way half a million other non-words flash in and out of existence in sheltered settings. "Isobits." Whatever. So this put me in the position where I can either call her on it and be the asshole, or roll over and accept it, losing the game while allowing her to push my ass around. Great - I can lose, or I can lose.
This and other incidents set the stage for the depression, but I was still barely above it. The trigger point for down in it came a few days later, and was the most stupid and embarrassing incident. On the way back from the track on Wednesday, I made the mistake of swinging by the H.H. residence and trying to say hello to H.H.'s whelp. I was soundly ignored. So I just went away. But it really bugged me - more than it should have for anyone, and far more than it should have for an inbred shit like her.
[Redacted gripe and moan centered on wenches]
I must make one thing very clear at this point. The events above are not causes for depression. The causes are several and varied and tied up in all aspects of who I am and the little universe I live in. The events above are triggers. As such, they aren't the problem and really don't matter. If there is a problem to be addressed, it is to change how I respond to the triggers, not to make the triggers go away.
Despite my complaining, there is a good side to things. The discussion at the seminar was good, and the only thing better than a good group discussion is good one-on-one brain sex. I also finished my white robe last weekend, and it actually looks pretty good (as long as you don't look too closely). This clears on hurdle for confirmation into the EGC and I'm ready to make the black robe for my first degree initiation. And, to leave of this feel good fest, we bring up my favorite obsession - my weight has been staying down.
The last several weeks I have been attending a 'Thelemic Magick and Mysticism' class at Amber's place, taught by Mark Anthony. While the quality of the 'class' is nothing to strike fear into the hearts of college instructors, the actual flow and results have been great. Every week turns into a pretty good discussion, even when it veers wildly off topic. But most important, the class has got me (and a few others) started on doing a daily practice. We started out with the first leg of Yoga and tried to progress though them one each week. This is an absurdly fast pace for true practice, but there really is no other way to teach it in a group such as ours. I have settled on a version of yoga that emphasizes observing body and mind, while not trying to control the mind. I'll move to that later. I'm up to 30 minutes of asana (admittedly it is sloppy asana), 3 to 4 times a week. It feels good.
Last weekend I made myself a white robe. I had two aims in mind. First, I needed to learn and practice for making a black robe for my first degree initiation. Second, I need a white robe for my confirmation into the ECG. The project took me most of the weekend. It looks pretty good on me, has no major flaws, but would make a real seamstress swoon in dismay. Among other things, I learned the black robe will have to have the edges all sewed up to keep end threads from unraveling in the wash. I'm hoping to purchase black material tomorrow and get started this weekend, then finish next weekend. Also next weekend, I'll be asking for my first degree application.
But all that stuff above is just bookkeeping. The real issues right now are depression and anger. It is odd that one of the results of the yoga has been to increase self awareness and observation - seeing the bullshit for what it is and separating from it. I would expect this self awareness to be good for me, but it isn't working out that way this time. It seems that the self awareness is only having an influence on the level of the intellect - the "thinking" Andy. On the level of emotion, the "feeling" Andy, I am - to quote Trent Reznor, "Down in it." It's an odd feeling, sort of like the ego-dystonic state that an OCD victim finds herself in. Here I am getting all wrapped up in bad reactions and feelings, while a part of me is watching it all happen, detached and separate, with a sort of shock and amazement.
The stage for this was set last week when Kate e-mailed her first play in our Scrabble by Mail game. She used all seven letters to rack up a hefty opening score, but with a word that she essentially made up. She confessed that it isn't in the dictionary, but that it was still valid for some bullshit reason or another. I plugged it into Google and found that Microsoft uses it as some sort of private geek term, but only in the same way half a million other non-words flash in and out of existence in sheltered settings. "Isobits." Whatever. So this put me in the position where I can either call her on it and be the asshole, or roll over and accept it, losing the game while allowing her to push my ass around. Great - I can lose, or I can lose.
This and other incidents set the stage for the depression, but I was still barely above it. The trigger point for down in it came a few days later, and was the most stupid and embarrassing incident. On the way back from the track on Wednesday, I made the mistake of swinging by the H.H. residence and trying to say hello to H.H.'s whelp. I was soundly ignored. So I just went away. But it really bugged me - more than it should have for anyone, and far more than it should have for an inbred shit like her.
[Redacted gripe and moan centered on wenches]
I must make one thing very clear at this point. The events above are not causes for depression. The causes are several and varied and tied up in all aspects of who I am and the little universe I live in. The events above are triggers. As such, they aren't the problem and really don't matter. If there is a problem to be addressed, it is to change how I respond to the triggers, not to make the triggers go away.
Despite my complaining, there is a good side to things. The discussion at the seminar was good, and the only thing better than a good group discussion is good one-on-one brain sex. I also finished my white robe last weekend, and it actually looks pretty good (as long as you don't look too closely). This clears on hurdle for confirmation into the EGC and I'm ready to make the black robe for my first degree initiation. And, to leave of this feel good fest, we bring up my favorite obsession - my weight has been staying down.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
