Depression Coping Mechanisms

• Be patient.  Things will change if you let them.  External factors will change with time, they always do and they will now.
• Intellectualize your dark thoughts and feelings.  Think about what you are feeling through a cold, objective lens.
• Divert your mind away from yourself.

This represents my personal top three coping mechanisms for the recurring depression that has been a part of the ebb and flow of my life for the last 35 years or so.  There are many specific tools that fall into these three categories.  They all work together to get through periods of darkness.

Trauma Then and Now

The world closed in and attacked.  It hit me from the outside and then the inside.  Too many directions to fight them all off.  My feeble mind tried, but it failed.  Overwhelmed by events and emotions, I hid.  Tried to ride it out until the battle stopped.  But the battle didn't stop, it just quieted a bit.

The strong but evil brain can still make those painful connections.  Beauty, love, insecurity and fear come back.  Again I try to ride it out.  Waiting for the battle to quiet.

Suicide Prevention Walk

This morning was the First Annual South Shore/Cape Cod "Out of Darkness" Walk to raise funds and awareness for suicide prevention.  I was anxious about participating.  From what I understand, most of the walkers are survivors.  This is a therapeutic endeavor to help them mitigate how they feel about the death of a loved one from suicide.  This is not the case with me.

I am nearly 50 years old, and have suffered from bouts of depression since adolescence.  When I was a teen, suicidal thoughts overtook me.  I survived but not without scars.  My daughter is now 16.  That is the same age that I fell down the black hole that nearly killed me.  She has suffered her own dark periods and is fighting to find a light.

I wanted to walk this Walk to confront my own past, but my daughter asked to walk with me (along with a good friend).  This seems like a very positive thing because empathy and companionship are the social answers to deep depression.  But I was a little anxious.  I felt a bit outside of the crowd because the circumstances that bring us to this walk are different (but similar) from others making this effort.  Alienation is not a good thing in my experience.  It is to be avoided.

The disease in play here is depression.  It hurts.  It kills.  And in the killing, it hurts and hurts and hurts.  But there is beauty to be found in the horrible disease of depression, and that beauty is found in the simple connection of human to human empathy.  Empathy was evident at this little local event.

When I fell into my hole of darkness at the age of 16, I shared those feelings with a few people around me.  They retreated out of fear and ignorance.  Maybe they didn't want to say the wrong thing that might push me over the edge.  Maybe the thought of suicide was just too awful for them to consider.  This much I KNOW from personal experience:  If someone comes to you and tells you their pain is too much to bear, you cannot say a wrong thing that will push them over the edge.  All you need do is listen.  Turning your back out of your own weakness is the wrong answer.  Listen.  Listen.  Listen.  That's pretty damned easy.

And if you can't do that, how about coughing up a few bucks for the cause?
You can do that here - http://afsp.donordrive.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=donorDrive.participant&eventID=1836&participantID=298342

Thanks for reading.

What is a weef?

It is an action or noun referring to the act of scratching or otherwise stimulating another person in the chin/neck region.

The weef came to being in the Myersville (Maryland) Elementary School of the United States in the mid to late 1970s. A group of rambunctious boys who sat in the back seats on a long bus route contemplated the ramifications of the vibrating bus, their desire for intimacy with their fellow male riders, and the homophobia that was endemic in their culture.

One of the boys felt inspired to infer that his seatmate was having scrotum to mouth contact. (This was a form of insult in the culture of the time.) He did this by scratching his friend's chin and pronouncing "Ahhhh...bus relief". This was the first known weef.

Of course, the seatmate (or weefee) was confused. He expressed his confusion to the weefer.

The weefer explained, "Ah...bus relief. I'm scratching my balls. Ahhhh..." Several boys were amused. Very amused.

In the following days, the boys in the know did this to each other on the bus. Other children observed the behavior along with the accompanying amusement of the participants and wished to join in.

There was a boy who was not particularly popular and was not able to sit in the back seats of the bus. He had a speech impediment which made him a subject of derision. He wanted badly to enjoy the intimacy and amusement of the others and attempted the "bus relief" chin scratch and said "Ahhhh....Bus Welief."

The boys in the back of the bus (the original weefers) found that this added to their amusement. The adopted the mispronounced name for the act and shortened it to "weef".

As the weef craze moved from the bus to the playground and was handed down to underclassmen, it lost much of it's original homophobic bullying intent. It became a form of play. Boys would have "weef battles", attacking each other by surprise or forming companies of "weef warriors".

I left Myersville long ago, but I believe the practice has died in the current generation. It never quite had the impact of the similar wedgie.

Lulu - Loutallica, Lou Reed & Metallica

This is a 90 minute collection of music that comes out next week. I have listened to it a few times all the way through via ear buds and car stereo. I don't like Metallica. I don't have anything against them, but I just have never gotten any sort of charge from their product. I do love much of Lou Reed's work, though not all of it. I have seen a few reviews of this current release, and have yet to read anything truly positive. That's what inspired me to write this.

Lulu is brilliant. Both acts bring their respective skills to bear with moving results. These pieces are character and situational studies. Spoken free verse poetry and metal riffing come together as you would expect from these artists, and there is much going on here that provokes an emotional reaction in me. The characters are sick, the situations are violent and amoral. Sex and pain. Need and conflict. It is necessarily harsh. Lou comes off like a beat poet at times, James Hetfield growls and shouts, Ulrich pounds, Hammett wails as expected. My only complaint is that 'Junior Dad' could have been edited back a bit.

The surprise is in the emotive results. It trips my trigger many times. I dated a girl who could have been the voice of "The View". I know a few "Junior Dad"s. These are characters and situations that speak to my reality. The musical techniques and technical specifics of the sounds fall by my wayside in the face of these emotional connections. I don't know how these men did this, I just know it hits me. It hits me over and over again.

These characters and situations feel real and horrifying to me. I hear people without morals, unashamedly telling us about their love for each other. It feels like the darkness that I have lived and strive to escape.

But it is not a party album. Don't expect a Metallica kinda feeling, because it is not here.

If the Red Sox were mine, I would...

Fire the entire coaching staff immediately. Sit down with Jason Varitek and offer him the Manager job. If he refuses, offer him any job in the organization that he wants short of full-time catcher. Player/coach, Manager, Pitching Coach, Bench Coach, pick the Manager, anything he wants. Get rid of John Lackey and Jonathan Papelbon. Do what you need to get the following players committed for next season: Jacoby Ellsbury, David Ortiz, Scutaro, Pedroia, Lester, Buchholz. Do not offer any of these guys up for trade bait. Avoid any big money free agents or big trades. Retire JD Drew and Tim Wakefield. Carl Crawford should be on the roster but field any offers for him. He is mediocre. Find a coaching staff but avoid any old farts for the Manager job. Young blood from within or without is needed.

Up from the beautiful earth and back

It came up from God's most perfect little heaven on earth
Nurtured in the sunny freshness of American pastoral perfection
Fearing God, loving the flag, respecting elders and loving all its playmates
Healthy food, clean air, white skin, hard work, daily schooling, weekly churching
Just enough above average to feel special, but not so special as to be detached

The community of love strengthened it beyond the sum of its parts
It stiffened and strode about the land with the LoveGod power at its core
No obstacle was too big, no person could resist its charm
The thing shared its power with one who wished to share the godly glow
It formed a partnership with her, convinced of their own promise
The partner had its own strength, and all things were its bitch
The partner was equally convinced of the strength she took from God's love
She fucked the thing for love and when it didn't love as her God expected, she crushed it
She saw the thing shrivel into a ball as it reached to her allies for help
The allies stepped over it in deference to their beloved friend

It collapsed in a heap on a stack of hay
Surrounded by the community of God, but alone in Godless desperation
The hay rotted beneath its body, soon to become nourishment for the livestock
It felt the rot of God's circle of life drawing it to a natural death
The thing welcomed its own demise, ready for the pain to stop

But it was too weak to execute its own destruction
It lived on in its own pathetic rotting state of God's grace
There was no escape from the realities of love, cruelty, righteousness, strength, weakness and death
It just continued in simple houses, simple beliefs and simple habits
No one wanting for a change

Toe Very Proud (a meditation on pride)

I've lived for 48 years. I've kicked asses and mowed grasses. I've walked and run. I run far less these days, but still I have all ten.
Today I proudly remove my shoes and flash my ten toes for all to admire. A great and glorious God betoweth me with them, just as he bestoweth his Son on the world. The ten best toes I have ever seen on my feet.
Some of them are straight. Some not so much. But I'm proud of each and every one of them. The biggest and the smallest of them are each important to the foot to which they are attached, and in turn to me where the foot leads upward to my soul.
I sucked them when I was an innocent baby, as God intended. But they don't suck now. I've maintained them with socks, shoes, soap, water and clippers. Whoopee for me the bearer of the best toes on my feet!

Watch this space as I attempt further meditations and stuff my head up my ass.

Biblical Irony

Matthew Ch 6. The intro to The Lord's Prayer:

verse 5 “And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. 6 But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. 7 And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words. 8 Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.

9 “This, then, is how you should pray:

“‘Our Father in heaven...

Not =

I'm not like you, much as we're the same
Things are different, despite the appearance of similarity
It sucks when that happens, but not for the same reasons
It was a BIG DEAL deal when you acquired that thing, at least to you

Deja vu we jinx each other's words, but I meant something else
Sure feels good when that happens, but not like it does for you
Did you hear about Dave? No not that about, the other one
I loved that about Dave, but you think he's a twit

We are in the same place, we share this moment
It feels like a connection to me, a creepy look of satisfaction to you
I see things in you that aren't there. You don't see things in me that are.
Move on to the next moment, it will be somewhat like that one

We connect, we misunderstand, we love, we fight
Try, fail, joke, flop, cooperate, compete, thank and offend
Strive for that connection, keep tapping the keys together
Sparks appear, magnets touch. God touches us in pairs when we find it.

Parents and their shit

I'm a parent and I'm full of shit. My parents were full of shit. I suspect that all humans are largely made of poo.

Here's an argument I've seen a few people get fired up about in the all-important Facebook: "The schools" need more God in them as evidenced by the removal of the Pledge of Allegiance from the classroom. Now, I was in a 'liberal' Massachusetts classroom not that long ago and the Pledge was recited over the PA as part of the daily morning routine. I clearly remember the Pledge as part of the morning routine the last time I attended public school 30 years ago. Nowadays, kids are offically not required to participate. In the old days, there was no offical policy but I VERY clearly remember many kids (including me) not reciting the thing every day. Conclusion - there's no difference between the good old days and the bad new days.

Second case in point: Yesterday, I chatted with a guy in my age group about medications prescribed to kids 'nowadays'. He made a very common assertion that we didn't have all this stuff in our day and that kids are imbalanced now because of all the chemicals in the food supply. In our day, we had natural foods and no need for all the medicines to combat the effects of the hormones and other chemicals in food. He then told me about all the drugs he is currently taking to combat ADHD, which he has suffered from since he was a teen in the late 70s. Irony alert!!

The bullshit in these arguments is obvious to me and I suspect that any young person with a thought in their head would be able to think right through this nostalgic crap. I suppose I say things like this myself, but I hope that my kids would be confident and smart enough to call me out. Don't believe them when your elders start with their good-old-days routine. It has always been a line of bullshit.

My Chem, Lu and Radiohead reviews - recent releases

My Chemical Romance - "Danger Days: ...Fabulous Killjoys...": This is an awesome rock record. Very impressive for a bunch of youngsters from New Jersey. They incorporate all sorts of musical styles and lyrical themes into a cohesive themey batch of tunes based on a concept from comic-book-writer-turned-rock-star Gerard Way. Lots of energy, bombast, silliness, camp sensibilities, misguided anger and pseudo-alienation. I really love it. Listening along with any my snobbish old man instincts in check, it just feels fresh and jumpy. Favorite track: Summertime

Lucinda Williams - "Blessed": Now here's where my old man snob can really take hold. This is a rock rock album. Call it alt-country, country rock or pop if you must. I'm sticking with rock because there are so many styles folded into it. The writing is daring and intimate. No bombast or silliness, just an attempt to express raw small emotions about family, death, God and love. Hate Lu's slurred southern accent if you must, but at 57 she has settled on this voice. She uses it along with her equally settled writing voice to express emotions that matter to her with confidence and clarity. It feels like a mature person expressing some deep emotions with confidence, and that is a beautiful thing. Favorite track: Blessed - gave me chills first time I heard it.

Radiohead - "King of Limbs": Worst of this lot. They have had a fabulous run of records that felt both collaborative and individual at the same time, kind of like a good baseball game. This one feels like it is all about Thom. And while that works some of the time, it just feels like Thom's head is up his ass at other times. Like when they take a simple idea (musically or lyrically) and drive it into the ground for several minutes longer than it deserves, it feels bad. This happens on "Feral" and "Bloom". When they take a good idea and let it play out and cut it off at the right time, it feels good. Favorite track: Codex.

Many Gods

I sat next to my parents at a nice southern protestant church service for the first time in about 35 years. It seems an innocuous event, but it got me to feeling and thinking. The Holy Trinity is a central tenet of current christian doctrine. It was a compromise, worked out in the early Catholic organization, committed to paper and justified by christian philosophers since that time. I believe people who think and feel for themselves have subtle and glaring differences in their perceptions of the nature of God. The concept of the Trinity is an enduring reflection of the confusion created when people try to reconcile these natural differences of perception. Below are some of my perceptions. Some of them are my current and past beliefs. Some are my perception of other people's beliefs.

The Father: Big Guy looking down from above; observing the subjects he created, pushing them around from time to time, laying down rules, and judging His objects accordingly. He allows his subjects a certain amount of free will on their path. He's got a cool place for them to go after they die if they just work hard enough to please Him. Then there's a not so cool place they go if He isn't pleased. He listens to direct requests and appeals to His vanity, which are the highest form of meditation available to His objects according to His plan. He laid all this stuff out in Holy Books, via his messengers and organizations.

The Son: Righteous human, a strong and magical man. Man of many words edited down by the Father's organization into a handy book of directives. Was tortured and killed as a martyr for the sake of all the Father's favorite created objects. He spoke a great deal of love, but his directives on the meaning of the force and practice of it are very sparse in the Bible. He did say that the most important rules to follow are to love others as you love yourself, and that the greatest act of love is to convince a person to accept your belief in Him.

The Holy Spirit/Ghost: A nebulous kinda person thing. A bit like a misty cloud that can permeate the soul, only more holy than that. Its the driving force inside a follower of the christian orthodoxy that fills the creation with motivation and drive to be righteous. Kind of hard to understand this if you're the typical shallow, meatheaded human.

She Walked In

She walked into the room, eyes aglow
Frantically, she struggled to appear together
Overcoming her error with noise and a smile
Her awkward extroversion came naturally to her
It appeared as magic to him

He contained his enthusiasm, at least in his mind
She erred, he enjoyed her defensive tactics
He played no offense, for he had no game
But her defense was completely beguiling
She stammered, he smirked and smiled without pretension

She chattered on, unaware of her charm and beauty
He led the utilitarian meeting, fully aware of her grace
As his eyes glittered with her reflection
She felt her confidence and strength grow
The stated purpose of the meeing over, they went for a drink

Hostility or Indifference

The stage was set beneath the big golden Cross
The girl stood before God and the congregated audience
She felt their eyes burn holes in her tattered clothes
Holes through her hands, feet and side

They measured her against themselves
Thinking her inferior in her mind
She seethed in anger, preferring their indifference
To the burning knives of superiorty in their eyes

The blood of Christ flowed from her wounds
She swallowed her perception of their superiority
Few of them held this perception
But it burned in her nonetheless

No love came from the angry drunken Father
The Mother wallowed in self-pity, she was indifferent
The girl felt gypped, angry and determined
God was her witness, she "would never go hungry again!"

Prideful determination to overcome was her fuel
She rose above her crucifixion
Scratched and clawed her way to mediocrity
"Misses Average" was her dream
Average stuff to accessorise the average life

The woman stood under another big cross in her average clothes
She felt respect in the eyes of the congregation
Wounds were closed, the blood of Christ contained
Loving life and the gifts God had granted her in His blessed Light

A child gazed longingly into her eyes
"Please love me" asked the innocent one in swaddling clothes
Her mouth said "I love you", pleasing the congregation
Her heart said "hostilty or indifference? Your choice."