If you haven’t had a dicktastic November, then poop on you. If you managed to finish your NaNoWriMo, well, la-di-frickin’-da. For the rest of us, November has been a month of torture polishing off a year long crapfest of stupid garbage, and now, it’s time to be cathartic and cleansing…

Like with fire.

I like fire.

I know for me, this whole year has been extremely stressful and just feels like it was a waste of 365 days. It was a year when I realized how little advancement I had made in the last six years of my life. It showed me that even though I am 29 years old, I still feel and act like I’m 17. I’m pretty sure that I always will. So I should probably embrace that.

Although, I started drinking coffee, so maybe there’s something to that. I mean coffee is pretty adult, right? I’m not talking half-calf-moccha-frappa-latte either. Like, real coffee. 100% Columbian Coffee… with just the smallest 3 tablespoons of sugar and chocolate creamer you can imagine. That’s adult coffee there.

Since only someone who is old and smashed by the knowledge of their own impending feebleness would drink that type of coffee. That must mean I qualify for those things.

Surely that makes me a full-on, 100%, honest-t0-goodness Adult now.

No?

Well, there goes that one hope I had left for this year not sucking…

 

…

 

For the last couple of weeks, I’ve noticed an increased amount of my friends that are suffering from some form of depression. For some of them it is mild, for others it goes beyond my darkest place. I know how much that sucks because I walk that line almost every day of my life. I don’t want my friends to be dragged down by that. I just don’t want to watch that happen.

 

And that makes me guilty.

 

Guilt is depression’s most powerful tool. It easily causes despair while simultaneously allowing for self-righteousness and grandiosity.

“I’m such a scumbag that the universe goes out of it’s way to punish me for being a douche. There is literally no one on the planet as horrible as I am.”

 

Yeah. That’s the type of tool that guilt gives you. It’s like the blacksmith in the core of the depression army, supplying all the other mental vandals with what they need to really graffiti the insides of your soul. Maybe even giving them enough gear to knock over your emotional convenience store and burn down your psychic abandoned warehouse.

 

This metaphor went somewhere I didn’t intend………

 

I think my point, which is buried in all of this is that it sucks to be a person that suffers from depression and have friends that suffer from depression. Not because these friends aren’t loving, supportive, wonderful people that really know what you’re going through. They are the best people to have when you’re depressed and they’re not, or vice versa. It only sucks when you’re both depressed.

Why?

BECAUSE DEPRESSED PEOPLE ARE REALY, REALY BAD AT CHEERING EACH OTHER UP.

Yeah, seems obvious isn’t it. On the one hand, we each feel guilty for not being as supportive and loving as we think we should be while simultaneously feeling guilty for being  the downer that triggered the emo-lanche¹. I’m not saying this is necessarily universal. It could very well turn out that I’m just some sort of guilt-spewing-hate-monster that is responsible for the emo-lanche. If that’s the case, I apologize. I know the last few weeks of this blog have been tinged with a pretty dark taint.

I’m trying to do better.

December Beckons

 

I will say, that I am very, very ready for the start of December, and with it the annual group reflection that comes with it. I feel like any honest theme for this year would be “I’m tired of being tired,” but I think the wonderful people that have volunteered to make something happen this year might have something less exhausting in mind.

For me, December had become a time when I look back at what I have spent the year doing; really trying my best to examine myself as a person. I want to learn as much about myself and the world around me as I can, and December has become a dedicated time for me to ignore the every day distractions of libido, belly, and brain so that I can get some soul work going.

It’s right around the corner, and I really need my reverb fix.

 

 

 

1- Emo-lanche is awesome new term I just made up meaning, “A Group of People all going into a depression at the same time, snowballing in size like when a glacier breaks off the mountain and destroys all of Southern Colorado.” Emo-lanches are very common around funerals, weddings, graduations, and the start of winter. For that last one, we blame Seasonal Affective Disorder. SAD is a very real, very dangerous thing. Love your mopey anti-winter friends.