Back when I first graduated from college and got my first grown up job, I got incredibly fucking depressed.
In my case, it had a lot to do with the fact that I am not, by nature, a goal-oriented person. Up to that point in my life, I got handed a set of goals every school year. Pass these classes, get these grades, avoid getting picked on by those fuckers over there.
Two of of three ain't bad.
Those kind of built-in mile markers are awesome. You don't have to think about them, and it's easy to see them passing by. Once I graduated, I switched gears from all that to "go to work, do whatever, go home." Not so easy to see it going by. Spun my wheels a while, sank into a deep and miserable funk I didn't really know how to get out of.
I finally got sick of it all and hit the shrink. I wasn't sure my benefits covered it (the company was tiny and not doing so hot), and wasn't sure if the boss would find out if I filed claims and fire my ass (I was young, naive, and depressed... so irrational besides). So I paid the bills out of my pocket.
Best money I ever spent.
The turnaround for me was pretty much immediate, since I didn't have a general problem with depression, but more of a temporary situation I wasn't familiar with and didn't have coping strategies for. Hell, just taking an active role and doing something about it rather than being passive (and let's face it, I'm great at passive... nearly as good as I am at passive-aggressive) made a huge difference.
Doc sorted me out, and we came up with a few hobbies and such to provide me with the missing goalposts whizzing by. And now I'm the beautifully adjusted fucker you see before you today.
I'm just sayin' is all.
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6 comments:
Hm...I'm starting to see a trend.
And you're not just a beautifully adjusted fucker, you're also beautiful when adjusted.
...I don't actually know what that means, but as I was saying it, I had an image of a workshop with wrenches and hydraulic lifts.
Therapists always tell me the same things. Psychopathic tendencies blah blah, sociopath, blah blah, antisocial blah blah, narcissism blah blah, schizoid blah blah, god complex and so on and so forth.
I usually lose interest pretty quickly and start playing fun little games with them to see how long it will take for them to figure it out.
That doesn't really say anything good about me, does it?
I was told I was mentally stable once. I guess it doesn't help to lie to the therapist, but then, I didn't really want to go in the first place.
And Blue, I can't stop. I even tried a 12 step, but Taco is too addictive, damn him!
You know, just because you're a schizophrenic who frequently suffers disturbing auditory hallucinations doesn't mean that the voices in your head aren't real. Or wrong.
yplyhj!
You Placed Luigi in Your Holey Jeans?
Oh, I get it! They're like some sort of acronymed horoscope. So the one I have now:
ymnea!
must mean...You must not eat apples. Oh shit! I just had an apple for lunch. Gah! What is the penalty?
ymnea!
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