A Place in the Middle of Nowhere

One of the most personally irritating aspects of depression, is isolation. When I’m in a full on, who-the-heck-cares, pit of depression—isolation doesn’t bother me so much—I crave it. Nothing matters, therefore, being alone is exactly where I feel I should be. However, humans need companionship.

We all need to have contact with others to grow and thrive. 

If I could control the desire to isolate during a depressive episode, I would. It isn’t as simple as that.

At this point in time, I’m emotionally stable. I almost feel “normal”. Which only means I can laugh and cry—both at appropriate times. It doesn’t mean that I feel I can lollygag all over the countryside having a jolly good time.

What I’m struggling with, is the resistance I have about doing something I want to do. I can’t figure out why it’s so hard for me to get in the car and drive to a photography club meeting.

I swear, I have a crappy little mini-me on one shoulder, who is ginormous compared to the happy-go-lucky mini-me on the other shoulder. Crappy mini-me is loud and obnoxious….simply making noise. It’s an odd inner battle of wanting to go, but at the same time, wanting to stay home–in isolation.

Is it a comfort found during depressive episodes? Or, am I just a troglodyte at heart? If I were a troglodyte, why would I want to go places, but have to force myself to go?

Okay, I’ve whined enough about that. Only the people who have experienced this will understand. The rest of you will be shaking your heads. I’m shaking my head.

By the time this will be read, I will have made it to my meeting and returned home. I will have had a good time, and learned a lot. I will be proud that the happy-go-lucky mini-me, kicked me in the hind quarters, and I paid attention.

I will look back and snicker at my silliness, hoping the next event will be easier to convince crappy mini-me that I seriously want to go.

 

Advertisements

About April

I'll come back to this when I find out who I really am. I've been through some extremely rough patches but they have made me a better person. I blog if my brain is functioning first thing in the morning.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

17 Responses to A Place in the Middle of Nowhere

  1. Sometimes….wouldn’t you like to give that little crappy-me a flick off of your shoulder? If only it were that easy. But the imagery of it seems to be encouraging. Hope the meeting was splendid. 🙂

    • April says:

      Little crappy-me would take more than a flick at times. The meeting was good, I learned two things. Taking photos of pets isn’t a one person job, and that only a couple of lenses are really necessary. Anything beyond that is fluff that photographers must have, simply because they do.

  2. mewhoami says:

    There are many times that I must give myself to do things, knowing that at the end I’ll be happy I did. A friend taught me that. She used to drag me along kicking and screaming to places and I’d come home laughing and smiling. Now that she’s not here, I must be my own forcer (is that a word?), which can be a war at times.

    • April says:

      I know that some of my resistance is a learned behavior. A lot of anxiety is learning how to avoid doing anything that makes us anxious. I’m un-learning that type of avoidance. In fact, I have learned how to eliminate quite a bit of my anxiety. One of them being going anywhere. I would have a big fear built up days before an event, no matter how big or small. Anyway, I suppose I’ll continue to force myself, with the hope that one day I won’t have to force anymore.

  3. meANXIETYme says:

    Good to hear you made it to the class and even came home with new information. Funny, I’ve been studying up on the same thing (pet photography!)… But I AM an introvert, so I really don’t like going places because I’m just not a people-person. But I get what you mean about isolation while being depressed (and/or anxious). It’s a coping mechanism for me, and it’s hard thing to break.

    • April says:

      I’m an introvert as well. Maybe that’s a part of my resistance to getting out of the house. However, my photography group is small, and the meetings are only a couple of hours. It doesn’t wear me out to spend a couple of hours away from my couch. The meetings are only twice a month. It’s a place where talking usually isn’t required, or allowed, during competitions–which I have only entered one. Even though it “seems” like it should be easy to go, it isn’t. Going to these meetings are my way of trying to break that coping mechanism that doesn’t apply 100% of the time.

  4. ecteedoff says:

    I struggle with this agoraphobic response all the time. Especially if it’s something I’m nervous abt which is usually everything. Today it was going to my psychiatrist so my mom had to drive me. Embarrassing and frustrating. I want to go to the gym later, I try to imagine positive outcomes there, but there’s a gnawing in my stomach that is pulling me to chicken out. This has been one of the biggest and annoying curses of this disease. I wish you the best of luck.

  5. Cathy says:

    Whatever that is I got it too. don’t like to leave the house and as I have to 5 days a week I really resist other reasons to leave, which are fun times 9 out of 10 times and that 10th isn’t bad just not knee slapping fun. Why do I have to force myself to get out of my sweats and comb my hair to, for example, go to the fair? I don’t think depression nor do I think lazy but not sure what it is…..getting better on going, getting worse on plans that make me leave the house.
    As always….hugs to you my friend,

  6. Christine O. says:

    I totally get it. My job / career forces me to socialize. ‘Networking’, something I used to love about my chosen career, now I avoid. The kids fresh out of college love this part; the glamorous part of what we do. Wine and dine; partying for the sake of befriending people we work with, for and that work for me in the party planning/ wedding business. But once I go and come home, I am glad I went but I am exhausted. I always described myself as outgoing and I still think I am. I don’t get nervous and I like people. I am good at conversation and people generally like me. But my anxiety prefers I go home, and get in my pj’s and under the covers with a glass of wine. It seems to be getting worse. I get it.

    • April says:

      I read a book–the title escapes me at the moment–but it was about being an introvert in an extrovert world. I always thought of myself as a bit extroverted, but my anxiety would get in the way. After reading the book, I now understand my actions. According to the author, we can move between being an introvert vs extrovert throughout our lives. Meh, it was an interesting read. It gave me a break from being anxious over being anxious…if you know what I mean.

Comments are closed.