Reflecting On a Year Ago: Depression

Due to déjà vu-ish and dumbass circumstances, accumulatively speaking I slept only one hour today. I usually wake up at 8:50am. At 7:20am, I was wide awake.

Instead of lying depressed in bed knowing that I wasn’t going to get anymore sleep, I just got the fuck up. I decided to get myself to the gym. I have never been at the gym before noon on weekends, and on weekdays, I go in after 8pm.

But it was either going to be the gym or the bottle.

I thought to myself, “should I go handle my dual rage/emo-ness through the bottle and repeat the same mistake of last year, or should I be productive and get a workout, particularly since I haven’t been in the gym in almost two weeks? Alkie mode or Workout mode? Alcohol or gym?”

So yes, I picked the gym.

Ironically, I crashed and burned around this same time last year. Although several situations were going on concurrently, I never indicated what the main cause was, only making subtle hints to Death personified.

Everything proves to be trivial. Everything proves to be crucial. A true paradox.

I thought things mattered, in regards to me, with the perpetual fear of being used, of feeling insignificant, feeling ugly, feeling useless.

But then, Death appears. It doesn’t do anything, but just stand there, pointing at the source of my fear, looking at me, mocking me, threatening me, stomping my soul, shaking me to my core. Nothing has been proven yet. But, I’ve never been so terrified in my life. I never have shaken so much. I’ve never cried so much. I have never felt so empty. I’ve lost my appetite. I’ve lost desire. I walked the streets disoriented today, everything felt unnatural and dream-like, I don’t remember most of it. All of this in a matter of hours.

Nothing matters anymore, yet everything does. If Death proves victorious, I would surrender as well. This is not a suicide note, but there would be no point in leaving me behind.

Truth be told, my mother had a cancer scare. Even though, thankfully, it was benign (some awkward fat deposit buried deep in her left shoulder muscles), it still chokes me up to even think about it. Although I am not the most openly loving, affectionate person (Latino stereotypes be damned!), it is the scariest thing to be within the possibility of losing the person who gave birth to me, the person who sacrificed the most for me, the person who loves me the most. It was freaking me out that I had no control over the situation. It was particularly damning as I was the only one informed about the cancer scare. Not even my mother frankly, as she only speaks Spanish and the physicians/specialists only English. I did not have the guts to tell her their complete theories. After something like that, I fear very little.

Yet, I will not lie, that situation drove me to the bottle: predominantly beer, rum and tequila along with the occasional whiskey. It made me happy that I didn’t have to think about it for that short timeframe. When I would leave the bar, reality would set in, and all hell would break lose. It did not become bad as I stopped when I knew she was in the clear. But it did let me know that I’m not immune. I should have known better, as alcoholism is spread out like wildfire on my father’s side of the family; my paternal grandfather died from liver failure due to decades of hard drinking. My father is all too cautious, as his drinking is limited to one glass of either wine or whiskey on holidays, and his beer intake is almost non-existent. Yet, I went for it regardless because honestly, I felt that it was temporarily helping me. It was filling a void, delaying potential mourning, and killing loneliness. Of course, now I know that drinking wasn’t helping me and never does. But I understand the circumstances in which, for many, it constitutes a way out.

(links on alcohol abuse/addiction afterwards)

HIM – Killing Loneliness (One would think that this is a love song. Yet, Ville Valo has stated that this song was dedicated to a friend who was overcoming substance abuse)

Alcoholics Anonymous
National Council on Alcoholism and Drug Dependence

(I will periodically edit this today and tomorrow, as I wrote this up running on only one hour of sleep!)

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~ by Luci-Kali on September 29, 2008.

One Response to “Reflecting On a Year Ago: Depression”

  1. Ville Valo has chiseled african thrift store face mask lock jaw put TWO rings on it *breathes* hug myself like stevie game PROPER

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