For those of you who have followed my blog in the past, you've probably stopped visiting by now - and I don't blame you in the slightest.
The last update was July and that was nearing eight months ago.
When I look back on my writing from when I first started I notice alot of differences between who I was then and who I am now.
When I started out I think "dreamer, writer, musician" was an apt way to describe myself. I loved to dream, brew, plan - pursue interests and see where they took me.
I loved to write about these plans, both the successes and the failures, and I loved to pick up an instrument and have a go at tapping out a tune.
But I'm not like that anymore. Something changed.
Now at this point, I don't know what that something is, or even when the change occured, I just know that it happened,
And in September of last year I was diagnosed with depression.
It's bizarre, depression.
There's a part of my brain that just wont accept that that is what's happening, that everyone else is the problem. That my moods and irrationality are justified. This part of me, does'nt believe in depression, certainly doesn't believe it is something that I have.
Then there is another part of my brain that knows that is not the case - that everyone else cant possibly be wrong. That I am the common denominator in this complex equation that equals the sum of my life. This part acknowledges that depression is a thing, and that I have been showing symptoms of this very real thing for a long time and accepts that I am depressed.
And these two parts argue with one another on an almost daily basis. But the latter is slowly but surely gaining the upper hand and I find I have to accept the situation that I am in.
It's funny how it hits you. I could accurately be called lazy - but not through choice. Initially it was my interest in things that dissapeared.
Magic cards, music, writing, people. These are all things, like a good golf swing (which is something I definitely do not have, ask any bunker on any gold course and they'll tell you the same.) that have to be worked on to maintain. And I didn't - I had lost all interest in things that I had enjoyed doing for years and years.
So what did I do instead of this stuff? Well nothing is the honest answer. I felt, and still feel tired all of the time. Even now. Having caught some sort of flu/chest infection and been ill since Saturday I have spent all day in bed and even now feel tired, though I know this is impossible, it's what my brain is telling me.
This leads to the third and most difficult part of depression (for me at least) which is the lack of motivation. To go from someone who had such ambition, so much drive to chase down dreams and to try and inspire others to do the same - to someone who now comes in from work and stays prone for the rest of night, wasting away hours on crap television or irrelevant documentaries. Hah, to quote the condition, well it's throughly depressing.
And I can hear what you're thinking! Not all of your thoughts mind, but this as your reading this I'm sure you've already come up with the solution - "Why don't you do something about it?"
Well there in lies the crux of the matter. It's the doing part that poses the challenge. I jus't dont feel motivated to do anything.
Jeez I mean getting out of bed to wash the bedding today felt a mission before I actually started it.
Moving the spare wardrobe from one room to the other was a challenge I couldn't face.
But you are right, I do have to do something. And I've been told this by everyone I've spoken to about it and can't fault their arguements. My boss, my fiancee, my mother and sisters, all telling me the same thing. It starts with me.
So this is how I've been feeling over the last few months, well in reality the last 6/9 months as it's just gotten progressively worse. I started on tablets in November and they seemed to pick me up for a bit before crashing back down again.
Today, for whatever reason I was in running a bath and really got annoyed with myself. (I seem to have a lot of lightbulb moments in that bathroom)
I mean I'm 29. Not yet hit my prime in life, not yet achieved half of what I told myself I would and I'm wasting away every hour that isn't spent working either lying in bed or sitting on the computer.
What the hell is that all about? I started asking myself "Have I peaked in life? Is this is as good as it gets?" and this annoyed me even more. (If you can envision me pacing quickly around the bathroom sending angry scowls towards the mirror every few minutes your pretty much on point)
Because I know it isn't. I know for a fact that life is this incredbile gift that we are all given to experience.
And that's what it is, a series of experiences that we get to have on this incredible planet we call home. Hell right now, someone somewhere is having the time of their life - there is someone kayaking down river rapids, climbing mount everest, swimming with sharks (willingly) skiing down a mountain, on an aeroplane to start backpacking across Australia. Someone is writing a best-seller, directing a blockbuster, recording a number one album.
Life is happening right now.
And I've always believed that it is what you make of it, not what it makes of you.
But that starts with a choice, a conscious decision to do something other than nothing, otherwise many years from now, when I'm lying on my deathbed looking back on my life, I'll be thinking of about the things I could have done, about the life I could have had rather than the one I did have. And that more than anything else is a situation I am unwilling to accept.
Now I don't have a ten step guide to follow, I refuse to watch the "Three steps to happiness from someone who knows" videos and the likes on youtube, but I am doing this:
I'm acknowledging that I am suffering from depression and have been in a bad place of late.
I'm apologising to the people who I've cut off ties with through no fault of their own.
And I am taking depression outside to go 15 rounds with it.
"I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul..."