Depression is the New Black
When someone you meet asks of you, “How do you do?” you ponder “How Am I?”
This question of your health is asked in many situations; you may have met the person for the first time; you may have happened upon a friend whilst shopping; during a telephone call with a family member; in a text message; an email; by a person unfamiliar to you and even your life partner.
My question is this, for what reason are these people asking me? Do they have a personal interest in my well-being? Are they feigning care? Is there an expectation for me to ask the question of them in order that they can delight me with their own story of suffering?
And to a degree, I tell an untruth. I will say “I’m fine” or “I’m good”; thank you ever so. The truth is I am neither fine nor I am certainly not good. I lack conviction that they would wish to know of the reasons that I am not fine.
There are few who naturally care like my husband, but the majority of persons that I encounter through my daily activities, I am certain, do not. In point of fact they do not feel remotely attached to my feelings, I’ll guess.
The regular greeting of “How are you?” is missing its mark, I believe. Why, therefore, instead say “Hello” or “What’s happening with you?” (If we really want to know) I think that this is all the other person wants anyhow.
We find it agreeable to talk to others about ourselves, although not everyone wants to know about your affairs, thank you very much. And, remember this, that not everyone is your best friend and needs to know these things. I harbour animosity toward people who do not know me, becoming over-familiar with me; people like those who are providing a service for me, as in a restaurant for instance, wishing to talk to me about matters I have no interest in. I say “leave me alone.”
I am not fine. I am of unsound physical and mental health. And, I feel “woozy” on more days of the week than I do “fine” or “good”, thanks for asking. I have problems and my life does not go according to a defined plan. But, in the end, I can accept that.
Are we hypothetically going to bound like a rabbit all day, feeling like the cat’s pyjamas and certain of ourselves? I used to believe that I ought to. I used to advertise that I was a Christian and in those times I thought that I must be filled with “the joy of the Lord” and “the peace that passes all understanding.” That is how the church elders had taught it in their sermons. That is how I had been raised by my parents who believed in religious doctrine.
But life, real life, is not like this. Life has a habit of shaking a truckload of craziness upon your head. And that is just the way it is. Our experience through life offers a range of insight; good, bad, sad, upsetting, joyous, laughable, and grievous and so forth. The way in which we confront, respond and articulate our emotions is not one and the same for each differing encounter. We run the gamut of our emotional repertoire.
Can you feel more contented with your lot? Can I feel more contented? I am unsure of saying “yes” to this question as of now. This is the first piece of writing on Garden of Holly. I will investigate whether it is possible to change my unhelpful thoughts, my pain and the manner in which I express myself. If you, dearest reader, are of a mind to invest some of your time in reading these articles, then we will see if it is likely that we can adjust to our lives. Do keep on reading and let us see.
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Further information that may be relevant to how you may be experiencing life at present may be found at the following sites: