The Problem of Adding Value When Depressed
A lot is said about the
importance of adding value to others’ lives, particularly with
regards to connecting with people, positive mental health, and also
increasing some virtual numbers such as website hits or social media
followers. Adding value when depressed often seems as likely as going
into a burger joint and trying to buy a car.
I’ll freely admit
that when I see an article about the importance of adding value in my
news feed, the shutters of gloom slam shut in my mind. A familiar
thought then starts pacing the mental corridors: I don’t even add
value to my own life, how the fuck am I going to add it to others?
Blinkers Attached
I’m an ill, depressed
guy struggling to make money and to carve out any sense of being a
part of the world, tying myself in knots trying to give myself some
worth somehow.
If I see another ill,
depressed guy struggling in the same way, thoughts along the lines of
them not having any worth wouldn’t even cross my mind. The same
applies to anyone else I see, they don’t need to prove their worth
to justify being alive, being here is worth enough.
Sure, if someone pisses
me off or commits some atrocity, I might revise that sentiment at the
time, but on the whole, barring these special cases, people don’t
have to do anything special to get the proverbial thumbs up from me.
Being here is worth
enough. I know this intellectually, but the saying that goes along
the lines of “the journey from the head to the heart is a long one”
couldn’t be more right.
It’s not even a case
of falling into the trap of comparing myself with others, I’m more
than capable of kicking myself even when in a social vacuum.
The Stick That Smashed The Carrot
I think a largish part
of the problem is that sometimes being so harsh on myself has
produced the desired result.
As an example, I have
continuous issues with my weight, as being active is complicated by
my health problems. Nothing seems to help me lose more weight than
turning any kind of diet that I might be on, into some kind of self
punishment for being the way I am.
Every hunger pang takes
on the guise of a pain well earned, every impulse to eat denied
becomes a mental slap on the hand that feeds. It’s all a bit
masochistic in a way. The weight comes off, the result is achieved.
The pattern is set for other areas of my life.
I know that attaining
goals in this way is harmful. I know that it flicks a switch in my
mind that is hard to turn back off again, leaving me more emotionally
numb to the positives in life. It also makes me more susceptible to
the upsetting emotions that seem to be permanent residents in my
body.
The Carrot That Went To Sea
Depression is truly
mind numbing: it cripples my creativity and sends my motivation to
the moon.
It’s often hard to
see any kind of future for myself that would be worth living. I do
have some very low aspirations for what would constitute a reasonable
future, but rather than being helpful in their mediocrity, they seem
to make being thwarted even harder to deal with.
I know there are
various ways to reframe how you view your life, learning to be more
flexible in your thinking and showing yourself self-compassion along
the way. I really, really get it.
In practice, I can do
it a small proportion of the time, so I know it can be done. I also
realise I’m making more progress than I’m aware of at least half
of the time.
I need to keep coming
back to the same theme though, over and over until it does reach my
heart:
"I am enough as I am,
whatever else happens in my life, either through my actions or
outside of my control. I am enough."
Maybe one day I will
feel it on more than on an intellectual level. Maybe I will be able
to see the ways that I can and do add value to the lives of the
people around me, the small acts of kindness that I do carry out, and
the ways that I do actually help other people. Maybe on the following
day, I will be able to see the ways that I am actually kind to myself
too.
Until that time, I will
try to anchor myself to the idea of being enough, and hope that it
holds firm in the choppy mental seas that surround me. I might even
see a mermaid too, you never know. I could ask her if she wanted to
join me and rest awhile, all of that swimming must be very tiring
after all. Ooh I was just kind to a self-made mental construct. It’s
starting already.
