Question:
there are tons of ways to give each of your days meaning. You don’t have to go out and run the rat race. Maybe use your talents to help others.
Hey Jim. I do a books site already, which uses PG files as the source. The folks over at PG encourage this sort of thing, and one of their volunteers once emailed me with some nice words. Don’t think I could take the rat race. If it was a rat tea party, that might be different. I could handle that. 
Ian — http://sundry.ws/ — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm
Response:
To become "unparalysed" you have to choose a direction that suits you and follow it regardless of what the rest of the mob is doing.
Amen to that brother. I am only 33 and I am burned out from doing the corporate-monkey-rat-race for the past 10 years. There is no way I can keep this up for 35 more years! I have come to realize that my path in life is going to be much less sensational. Much less "big". Much more easy going. Maybe a lot of us (including you Ian) need to find a path that suits our abilities and accept that path and be satisfied by it. One can make each day have meaning by doing even the most simple of things. Today I told my wife I love her. Today was given meaning. I didn’t go out and rock climb, or score that big corporate deal, or any other thing that societies say is "success". However, I still gave meaning to my day and it was enough for me. Ian, there are tons of ways to give each of your days meaning. You don’t have to go out and run the rat race. Maybe use your talents to help others. You love books. Join Project Gutenberg. There are many ways to volunteer: http://www.gutenberg.org/info/volunteer Helping others can be a very satisfying activity. Oh, and each day doesn’t have to have meaning. There are days where I just bum around on the net and accomplish nothing. That doesn’t me my life is not without meaning ; ) Jim — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm
Response:
::What someone told me the other day on here, that action comes first, ::and motivation follows, I’ve discovered is true. I’ve noticed all my ::life that the farther down in the doldrums I get, the harder it is to ::get up, and the more active I get, the easier it is to stay active. That was me that told you that I read it in the "Feeling Good" book by Burns. I believe you just bought this book? Read it over and over and over. You cannot digest this book in one shot. The hardest part when lacking motivation is getting started. I tell myself that whenever I am dragging my feet about a certain errand, project, or chore. Just get started and keep moving :: I guess if it hurts to not move, and it hurts to move, one might as well ::move. At the end of a day where you moved and accomplished some ’stuff’, it feels a hell of a lot better than beating yourself up over doing ‘nothing’. I went through a bad depression in 87 while I was pregnant. I saw a social worker at the time….. and she made me make a list everyday of everything I needed to accomplish. At times it was hell, but I crossed everything off the list every single day. At the beginning, it didn`t really help my depression or anxiety…..but at least I felt a sense of accomplishment for keeping the house clean, taking care of myself, my one year old, , my husband, and my animals. Moving kept me from sinking into a deeper pit of despair, I do believe helped me to recover. Just be careful that you don`t go too far to the "other side" and become somewhat neurotic about things being orderly and clean ) ::I had a prof once in college, in a class on modern poetry, who told ::us, "There’s nothing more unattractive than a man who is paralyzed by ::life." I would have told him that there is nothing more unattractive than a "normal" man that has it all together. BORING!! :: I think my mom told me I was being lazy, and ::to this day (not that they’re necessarily related) I feel like a lazy ::bum, even though it’s not from simple lack of interest that I remain ::inert, but from some sort of existential shock. Wishing you motivation, energy, and peace from your suffering. (((((Ian))))) Jackie ~*~How do I love thee? Hang on a second …let me Google the ways~*~ ~~ Christine Geary — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm
Response:
Sorry Ian I did,nt mean to cast doubt on Praying ,It is evey ones choice what they do and if it helps that is good to all im trying to say is even if it dosent seem to be helping you are still a good person and deserve better than what you are feeling now — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm
Response:
don’t be so hard on yourself
Thanks, Doug, I’m trying. I do get out of the house sometimes, but dread taking walks, as there’s always someone else out there! You have to look down or look away as they approach, but then, do you look away when you pass them, or do you look them in the eyes and smile? What if you do the latter and *they* look away? So many decisions. I usually just keep my gaze averted, but then that makes me look odd, because I’m trying my hardest not to look at anyone on the sidewalk. Going out in the middle of the night is okay, as this is a safe neighborhood, but then I run the risk of the cops stopping me because I look suspicious. Argh. I’m going back to sleep. Ian — http://sundry.ws/ — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm
Response:
Going between the high and low points is a journey, no? He didn’t believe there was a destination, just a wavering between happy and sad. I believe in a journey, one which involves momentum and lack of momentum.
Maybe a better way to look at it is like an exploration of unknown territory. It is a journey but the destination is completely unknown and you can stop and "smell the roses" as you feel like. — Ron P If it doesn’t hurt today, it probably will tomorrow. — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm
Response:
I can agree with this. Maybe it would help if you committed yourself to something (a hobby, charity work?) to make yourself feel useful? Do you exercise aerobically regularly? It’s a good habit and helps you to feel better about yourself. Maybe you could take a 30-minute regular walk around your neighborhood (if it’s not too crime-ridden) every day. Getting out of the house is also a good thing. I’m just making some suggestions, I’m not trying to be critical. Anyway, don’t be so hard on yourself Ian. — Doug
– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – What someone told me the other day on here, that action comes first, and motivation follows, I’ve discovered is true. I’ve noticed all my life that the farther down in the doldrums I get, the harder it is to get up, and the more active I get, the easier it is to stay active. My old dad once told me he thought that life was not a journey, but a series of high and low points … this is lack of hope. Life, to me, aside from mystical concerns, is about momentum, and my anxiety and depression have kept me in stasis for too long. I guess if it hurts to not move, and it hurts to move, one might as well move. I had a prof once in college, in a class on modern poetry, who told us, "There’s nothing more unattractive than a man who is paralyzed by life." Already having arrived at that point, I thought she was being extremely unfair. How does one become unparalyzed, or avoid it in the first place? She didn’t know how terrifying my early years were, or why college was a blur of time moving too fast for me to keep up. About fifteen years later, I’m still paralyzed, in fact even more so. I think about cleaning up this mess of an apt., and I’m brought back to a single scene from my young life. My dad had torn up the living room and overturned the furniture, and it was up to myself, my mom, and my sister to clean it up. My sister had no problem helping out, and my mom of course did the brunt of the work, but I just stood there helpless, feeling that there was no way I could get the living room back to normal. That was my first moment of paralysis, sometime around the age of five or six. I think my mom told me I was being lazy, and to this day (not that they’re necessarily related) I feel like a lazy bum, even though it’s not from simple lack of interest that I remain inert, but from some sort of existential shock. But anyway, if it hurts to not move, and it hurts to move, it only makes sense to move … but the fear builds up very quickly as soon as I undertake any task. Life is not supposed to be about surviving through shock, it’s supposed to be about participating in the experience of being human. So far this eludes me. I participate in the experience of evading the moment, in the same way that if you hold a flame to your hand for too long, you can’t physically hold it there any longer. It pulls away reflexively. I can’t seem to force myself to experience life any more, and only kill time between obligations. When I did experience life, it was only for about a six month period, and while it was wonderful, it was also pretty shattering. (I carry her picture in my wallet now, even though that was the late 80s.) If the answer lies in prayer, so far prayer has only made the next world seem very appealing, and helped ease my fear of death to the point where I fantasize about an easy death and a nice afterlife. When I take my meds, I often vet the idea (just for a second) that I might just take them all. It always gets rejected, but the thought arises nonetheless. So it’s been too long that I’ve sat inert, and I hope to be able to break out of some of this soon. I don’t know how, exactly. The therapists at CMH are social workers, not psychologists, and are more concerned with filling in the database form for my "person-centered treatment plan" than focusing on the person who’s being treated. One never knows, though. There might be hope. Just some thoughts as I ponder sleep, and realize I won’t be able to nod off for another few hours. Hope all in ASAPM-land are doing well. Ian — http://sundry.ws/ — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm
– The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm
Response:
The med student who graduates last in his/her class is still called a doctor.
Yes, it’s a fact of life. There ain’t no such thing as a free lunch when it comes to free medical care. Well, the lunch is free, but it’s at the soup kitchen. I hope you find a better therapist, and I hope your last one finds a more suitable line of work.
She probably doesn’t have much choice. My mom was assigned to her once, and only lasted twenty minutes with her before leaving the room and requesting a new therapist. I think my mom got reassigned so quickly because she filed a complaint, and I can’t do that because I don’t remember what happened in the sessions. I was blocking out her ideas, because it was obvious that she didn’t know what she was doing, and listening to her would do more harm than good. CMH around here has had its share of really bad therapists. I was stuck in group therapy once after being discharged from the inpatient unit, and the main therapist would never tell us what his degree was in, or even if he had a degree. I don’t think he did. Some guy told him, "I think I’m losing my mind," and the therapist told him, "You can’t lose your mind. Where do you think it went? Is it behind the chair?" No help whatsoever. That was a dark time. The guy who felt he was losing his mind really did lose his mind, and drank himself to death about a couple years later. I feel I’ve told this story on here before. The amount of damage that CMH does, and all in the name of providing nominal services for the disabled. Why shouldn’t the people who need the best help get the best help? Why should the best therapists be "life coaches"? I just mean, the people you run into at CMH are in some serious despair, and really really messed up, and they don’t need bad therapy and five-minute sessions with the pdoc. All the talent, it seems, is wasted on questions like, "What do I do now that I’m rich and I’m still unhappy?" or "Why do I get drunk every time we have company over at the summer house?" The talent should be focused on questions like, "Why do I cut and burn myself, and why am I hearing voices?" I know. It’s simple economics. You get what you pay for. It’s just that, in the case of mental illness, the bigger the burden, the harder it is to pay for help. Oh well. It’s the same with medical doctors. Robert de Niro discovered his prostate cancer when it was stil just a few cells, and for all I know I might have a big lump right now, aside from the cat of course, who is a big lump I care very much for. Ian — http://sundry.ws/ — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm
Response:
I figure that with my experiences of the last few months, with the old body going down hill on a greased chute, I might just as well chime in here too. What someone told me the other day on here, that action comes first, and motivation follows, I’ve discovered is true. I’ve noticed all my life that the farther down in the doldrums I get, the harder it is to get up, and the more active I get, the easier it is to stay active. My old dad once told me he thought that life was not a journey, but a series of high and low points … this is lack of hope. Life, to me, aside from mystical concerns, is about momentum, and my anxiety and depression have kept me in stasis for too long. I guess if it hurts to not move, and it hurts to move, one might as well move. I need to have that last sentence surgically implanted. I just wish there weren’t two ways to end that sentence: 1. one might as well move 2. one might as well go back to bed
What you are describing here is inertia. Bodies at rest tend to stay at rest and those bodies in motion tend to stay in motion…..to a point. Moving without some kind of motivation seems pointless as we don’t maintain the motion and soon become motionless again because there was no fuel "motivation" to keep going. Motion in itself is not self-sustaining. The quality of life depends on which one we do. It’s always easier to surrender than to keep fighting, and there are some good rationales for doing so — Fritz Perls’ "don’t push the river, it flows by itself" comes to mind. Depression has me living on the edge of paralysis probably 80% of the time but it finally does come down to this question: Am I sick because I’m not fighting, or am I not fighting because I am sick?
Surrender becomes easy when your preception of what you are defending isn’t worth the effort of defense. Depression is like being a cork floating on that river that has become trapped in an eddy or snag and can’t get loose. The cork can’t change the course of the river but only wants to flow along with it. I hate dilemmas more than I hate beets, and I really really hate beets. I had a prof once in college, in a class on modern poetry, who told us, "There’s nothing more unattractive than a man who is paralyzed by life." Already having arrived at that point, I thought she was being extremely unfair.
Being paralyzed by life may simply be the standing in one of the many intersections of life seeing people scurrying past in all directions seemingly without purpose or direction, accomplishing nothing and not wanting to be part of a directionless mob in order to be "normal." – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – Some,if not most, people just don’t get it. I try not to get close to them. Trying to change their minds is like trying to teach a pig to sing: it wastes your time and annoys the pig. How does one become unparalyzed, or avoid it in the first place? She didn’t know how terrifying my early years were, or why college was a blur of time moving too fast for me to keep up. About fifteen years later, I’m still paralyzed, in fact even more so. I think about cleaning up this mess of an apt., and I’m brought back to a single scene from my young life. My dad had torn up the living room and overturned the furniture, and it was up to myself, my mom, and my sister to clean it up. My sister had no problem helping out, and my mom of course did the brunt of the work, but I just stood there helpless, feeling that there was no way I could get the living room back to normal. That was my first moment of paralysis, sometime around the age of five or six. I think my mom told me I was being lazy, and to this day (not that they’re necessarily related) I feel like a lazy bum, even though it’s not from simple lack of interest that I remain inert, but from some sort of existential shock.
To become "unparalysed" you have to choose a direction that suits you and follow it regardless of what the rest of the mob is doing. I have never figured out if there was one moment that stopped me wanting to develop my tidying-up skills. I have talked to Mom about it, and she said I’ve just always been loath to pick up my room. She always had to push push push me to do it. I’m 53 now and I still can’t do it. I’m always waiting for this elusive thing called "the right time" — when there’s a confluence of positive attitude, physical well-being, and no external pressures. There are probably other ingredients, but that doesn’t matter to me at this moment. My point includes this — room cleaning is only ONE of the areas of my life that is dysfunctional in exactly this way. To move or not to move.
I have found that tidying up serves little purpose. My shop is a prime example. When everything is put away and all is neat and tidy, it looks nice but there is nothing going on there. It is sterile, nice looking, seemingly functional with all sorts of equipment but totally lacking in motivation, feeling and usefulness. On the other hand, when there is sawdust on the floor and projects in various states of completion the old shop looks like there is life there and serves a purpose. The mess makes it look and feel "lived in." – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – But anyway, if it hurts to not move, and it hurts to move, it only makes sense to move … but the fear builds up very quickly as soon as I undertake any task. Life is not supposed to be about surviving through shock, it’s supposed to be about participating in the experience of being human. So far this eludes me. I think we’re onto something here, and I think it’s yet another dilemma. I’ll try to delineate it. There are some effective ways of surviving shock, relieving suffering, etc, and we study them and trade them like recipes. I don’t know if this applies to you or not, but I’m taking a gamble that it does: it doesn’t matter how many fine tools we have if we feel the work isn’t worth the effort. And that, I do believe, is the fault of the illness of depression itself. That’s the…… oh what’s the term….. Catch-22 of depression. We feel awful, we want to feel better, but working to feel better is so f*cking hard and there’s no guarantee it’ll work and I might as well go back to bed. With a box of doughnuts, or whatever palliative you prefer. Depressed if you do, depressed if you don’t.
Life is like the Bumper Car ride at the fair. You pay your money and get into one of those cars and when the power comes on you drive around in circles bumping into everything in sight and being bumped by all kinds of vehicles that you didn’t see. This continues until the power is turned off. Was anything accomplished by all this "fine driving" being banged to and fro while going around in a circle? If something was accomplished by this activity it escapes me. I think that life is the same. – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I participate in the experience of evading the moment, in the same way that if you hold a flame to your hand for too long, you can’t physically hold it there any longer. It pulls away reflexively. I can’t seem to force myself to experience life any more, and only kill time between obligations. When I did experience life, it was only for about a six month period, and while it was wonderful, it was also pretty shattering. (I carry her picture in my wallet now, even though that was the late 80s.) I packed away the pictures, but internet searches are just as available and ubiquitous as a wallet photo. I read about him, I curse his name, I long for him. The good times were exactly what I wanted, and the ending was horrible and I’m still angry, 8 years later. If the answer lies in prayer, so far prayer has only made the next world seem very appealing, and helped ease my fear of death to the point where I fantasize about an easy death and a nice afterlife. I stopped believing in the power of prayer a long time ago. Droves of people prayed for my father; in spite of thousands of man-hours of supplications to some kind of Almighty, his health, both physical and mental, degenerated in an agonizing slowness. He had the brain tumor operation in 1957, and he died in 1981. Prayer didn’t do jackshit for him. I, too, fantasize about the easy death. A nice afterlife would be a pleasant surprise, but I’m not counting on it. There is one factor that will play the leading role in my life after Mom is gone, and it’s the answer to this question: Will I be able to change my life into something I want it to be *without* her, and if I’m unable how long will it take me to cash in my chips?
While I was being carted off to the hospital in an ambulance a couple of weeks ago with a suspected heart attack, there was no worrying about whether or not I was going to "make it." The only things that I remember was that is was pretty darned cold under that blanket and that the driver must have found the roughest road in the county to drive on. Was that weird or what? (Just a caveat to all reading this — I am no where near suicidal at this time. I’m just being realistic about the possibilities in my future.) When I take my meds, I often vet the idea (just for a second) that I might just take them all. It always gets rejected, but the thought arises nonetheless.
I have had these feelings several times. – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – So it’s been too long that I’ve sat inert, and I hope to be able to break out of some of this soon. I don’t know how, exactly. Me neither. I think it’s the little moves, not the big ones, that keep me alive. I have been praising myself for throwing trash into a wastebasket rather than onto the floor for the past month. It seems
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Response:
if sanity, self acceptance and peace isn’t worth working for, I do not know what is
You’re right, Sally, and I have ordered the book. The cheapest used copies were a penny, but I splurged and spent seventy-five times that to get a nice copy. I think my case manager is working on getting me a therapist at CMH. It’s all I can afford at the moment (i.e., free). This is really where bad therapists trickle down to, but there are some who are out there to make a difference, and hopefully I’ll find one like that. The last one was horrible. She was so argumentative, nothing I said was valid. Her vocal chords were shot, and I suspect it was from screaming at her husband when she went home. I guess everyone who goes through the schooling gets a job somewhere. :-/ Hope you’re well, Sally, Ian — http://sundry.ws/ — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm
Response:
- Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – if sanity, self acceptance and peace isn’t worth working for, I do not know what is You’re right, Sally, and I have ordered the book. The cheapest used copies were a penny, but I splurged and spent seventy-five times that to get a nice copy. I think my case manager is working on getting me a therapist at CMH. It’s all I can afford at the moment (i.e., free). This is really where bad therapists trickle down to, but there are some who are out there to make a difference, and hopefully I’ll find one like that. The last one was horrible. She was so argumentative, nothing I said was valid. Her vocal chords were shot, and I suspect it was from screaming at her husband when she went home. I guess everyone who goes through the schooling gets a job somewhere. :-/ Hope you’re well, Sally, Ian
The med student who graduates last in his/her class is still called a doctor. I hope you find a better therapist, and I hope your last one finds a more suitable line of work. Deirdre — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm
Response:
Going between the high and low points is a journey, no?
He didn’t believe there was a destination, just a wavering between happy and sad. I believe in a journey, one which involves momentum and lack of momentum. She is/was an idiot! Most quotes like this come from people who have never had a real challenge in their life and certainly never had a disability.
Yes, the old "if I can do it, so can they". That doesn’t seem to apply to much of anything. Some people just can’t function. People with disabilities need to focus o their strengths and exploit those strengths.
I need to remind myself of that, as does probably anyone with a disability. It’s all a question of getting free of the trap of inertia. Mental illness gives me a lot of reasons not to move, but I do have some reasons, aside from just plain survival. Those are the things to focus on. Hope you’re well, Ian — http://sundry.ws/ — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm
Response:
- Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – What someone told me the other day on here, that action comes first, and motivation follows, I’ve discovered is true. I’ve noticed all my life that the farther down in the doldrums I get, the harder it is to get up, and the more active I get, the easier it is to stay active. My old dad once told me he thought that life was not a journey, but a series of high and low points … this is lack of hope. Life, to me, aside from mystical concerns, is about momentum, and my anxiety and depression have kept me in stasis for too long. I guess if it hurts to not move, and it hurts to move, one might as well move. I had a prof once in college, in a class on modern poetry, who told us, "There’s nothing more unattractive than a man who is paralyzed by life." Already having arrived at that point, I thought she was being extremely unfair. How does one become unparalyzed, or avoid it in the first place? She didn’t know how terrifying my early years were, or why college was a blur of time moving too fast for me to keep up. About fifteen years later, I’m still paralyzed, in fact even more so. I think about cleaning up this mess of an apt., and I’m brought back to a single scene from my young life. My dad had torn up the living room and overturned the furniture, and it was up to myself, my mom, and my sister to clean it up. My sister had no problem helping out, and my mom of course did the brunt of the work, but I just stood there helpless, feeling that there was no way I could get the living room back to normal. That was my first moment of paralysis, sometime around the age of five or six. I think my mom told me I was being lazy, and to this day (not that they’re necessarily related) I feel like a lazy bum, even though it’s not from simple lack of interest that I remain inert, but from some sort of existential shock. But anyway, if it hurts to not move, and it hurts to move, it only makes sense to move … but the fear builds up very quickly as soon as I undertake any task. Life is not supposed to be about surviving through shock, it’s supposed to be about participating in the experience of being human. So far this eludes me. I participate in the experience of evading the moment, in the same way that if you hold a flame to your hand for too long, you can’t physically hold it there any longer. It pulls away reflexively. I can’t seem to force myself to experience life any more, and only kill time between obligations. When I did experience life, it was only for about a six month period, and while it was wonderful, it was also pretty shattering. (I carry her picture in my wallet now, even though that was the late 80s.) If the answer lies in prayer, so far prayer has only made the next world seem very appealing, and helped ease my fear of death to the point where I fantasize about an easy death and a nice afterlife. When I take my meds, I often vet the idea (just for a second) that I might just take them all. It always gets rejected, but the thought arises nonetheless. So it’s been too long that I’ve sat inert, and I hope to be able to break out of some of this soon. I don’t know how, exactly. The therapists at CMH are social workers, not psychologists, and are more concerned with filling in the database form for my "person-centered treatment plan" than focusing on the person who’s being treated. One never knows, though. There might be hope. Just some thoughts as I ponder sleep, and realize I won’t be able to nod off for another few hours. Hope all in ASAPM-land are doing well. Ian — http://sundry.ws/
Ian, I understand the paralyzed feeling. I had it for years. I still struggle with it to some extent, but it is not as bad as it once was. I lived with my mother, and I got away with being paralyzed for that time. But when she passed, I was so frightened, and didn’t know how I would cope. At that time, I handled it by just staying drunk. Afraid of life. Afraid of doing even little tiny things. It got very bad. I found out I was going to be a grandmother, and I could not STAND the thought of me being a drunken grandmother. That does not fit my concept of grandmother. My grandmothers were wonderful. I got into AA, and I knew deep inside of me that I would have to learn how to face life. I would have to learn how not to hate myself, and I would have to learn how not to be so afraid I was paralyzed. I had to face reality, because I was forced by circumstances to do so. Not only was I to be a grandmother, but the circumstances were that I had to sell the house I lived in, and I would have to work. I do not get enough money on disability to even live on. I used some principles from AA. I worked on my self esteem, doing affirmations and changing the stuck record in my head that continually played negative self talk.. and most of all, I studied CBT. I mean I STUDIED it. I got Burns "Feeling Good the New Mood Therapy" and I read some everyday, and I IMPLEMENTED it. It’s not good enough to just read. You have to practice, and it takes persistence. I do have a therapist, and she is acquainted with the principles of Burns, Beck and Ellis. She’s not a CBT specialist, but I am comfortable with her, and she has given me tips to help me work on myself. She’s seen the progress I have made – for the majority – on my own, and she has recommended the Burns book to another patient. I think I converted her. Ian.. you need therapy and in addition to that, you need to take the responsibility of changing your thought patterns on your own. And you are very bright. CBT isn’t rocket science. I bet you wouldn’t have a whole lot of problems WITH rocket science.. if you don’t have that Burns book, you get it Amazon has it today for 2 cents.. you must apply yourself. Like I said, it’s work, but it is sooooo worth it. It’s totally ludicrous for anyone to think that a therapist can "fix" whatever ails them in one hour a week or less. Not when your brain is working 24 hours day, 7 days a week and it’s your THOUGHT PROCESSES that are innacurate. You have to change the thought processes. It takes practice.. but it WORKS, and if sanity, self acceptance and peace isn’t worth working for, I do not know what is. My best to you, Sally — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm
Response:
I had a prof once in college, in a class on modern poetry, who told us, "There’s nothing more unattractive than a man who is paralyzed by life." Already having arrived at that point, I thought she was being
Your professor never had panic disorder. Carl — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm
Response:
I just wish there weren’t two ways to end that sentence: 1. one might as well move 2. one might as well go back to bed
Yeah, I’ve gone back to bed twice today already. :-/ Am I sick because I’m not fighting, or am I not fighting because I am sick?
People who think I can pick myself up by my own bootstraps would pick the first one. I pick the second one. Either way, it seems that fighting despite being sick is the solution to the dilemma. I wish that weren’t true! I hate dilemmas more than I hate beets, and I really really hate beets.
I made beet juice once and drank a big horkin’ glass of it. I’ve never had beets since. I’m always waiting for this elusive thing called "the right time"
Boy, so am I. I got a little bit done yesterday, which prompted the post, but today doesn’t feel like the right time. it doesn’t matter how many fine tools we have if we feel the work isn’t worth the effort. And that, I do believe, is the fault of the illness of depression itself.
Well said. There’s a distinct lack of drive in me, sort of covered up by lots of aching and tiredness. Droves of people prayed for my father; in spite of thousands of man-hours of supplications to some kind of Almighty, his health, both physical and mental, degenerated in an agonizing slowness. He had the brain tumor operation in 1957, and he died in 1981. Prayer didn’t do jackshit for him.
Prayer can’t keep us from dying, that’s for sure. Dying is a natural process that can’t be interrupted. I’m sorry it was so hard on your dad for so long. I have been praising myself for throwing trash into a wastebasket rather than onto the floor for the past month. It seems like such a small accomplishment, but it’s an accomplishment all the same.
It sure is an accomplishment! I find it helps to have little trash cans at various strategic places, with those small garbage bags in them. Trash can be very demoralizing. "I understand and I wish I had the Big Answer for you."
Thanks, Deirdre. If I find the Big Answer, I’ll pass it along. I hope it doesn’t involve eating beets. Ian — http://sundry.ws/ — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm
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I sit back at times and realize what I’ve missed in my life due to anxiety and more so my phobia of driving.
That’s how I feel, too. I think my life could have been much different had I not been so worn out by illness. Ian — http://sundry.ws/ — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm
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Your professor never had panic disorder.
That’s the truth. Now I have to find a Wayback Machine and go back to that class and raise my hand. Ian — http://sundry.ws/ — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm
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Hey brother, My old dad once told me he thought that life was not a journey, but a series of high and low points … this is lack of hope. Life, to me, aside from mystical concerns, is about momentum, and my anxiety and depression have kept me in stasis for too long. I guess if it hurts to not move, and it hurts to move, one might as well move.
Well why can’t life be both a journey and a series of high and low points? Going between the high and low points is a journey, no? I had a prof once in college, in a class on modern poetry, who told us, "There’s nothing more unattractive than a man who is paralyzed by life."
She is/was an idiot! Most quotes like this come from people who have never had a real challenge in their life and certainly never had a disability. I personally consider what I have to be a disability. It puts me at a disadvantage compared to others. I can be depressed over limitations or I can be happy about what I can accomplish. If your legs were paralyzed would you want to be constantly depressed over what you cannot do? Or would you rather find satisfaction with the things you can do? I think you have good artistic abilities. The stuff on your website is nice and well done. I also think you have a good ability to put your thoughts into words, something I deeply lack 
Focus your attentions on the things you are good at. Get into writing. Start a blog. Get involved in some Open Source project and do some coding again. People with disabilities need to focus o their strengths and exploit those strengths. Jim — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm
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Hi, Ian, Wow, some of this is deep and a lot of it I can relate to very strongly myself. ""There’s nothing more unattractive than a man who is paralyzed by life." I guess I would have wondered if this prof had a taste of panic disorder or even someone he cared for. Yes, I feels he’s right but then as you say, "it’s supposed to be about participating in the experience of being human." – I sit back at times and realize what I’ve missed in my life due to anxiety and more so my phobia of driving. I feel cheated. I hope you can find some good therapy and are able to move forward in your life… smiles, Elise
– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – What someone told me the other day on here, that action comes first, and motivation follows, I’ve discovered is true. I’ve noticed all my life that the farther down in the doldrums I get, the harder it is to get up, and the more active I get, the easier it is to stay active. My old dad once told me he thought that life was not a journey, but a series of high and low points … this is lack of hope. Life, to me, aside from mystical concerns, is about momentum, and my anxiety and depression have kept me in stasis for too long. I guess if it hurts to not move, and it hurts to move, one might as well move. I had a prof once in college, in a class on modern poetry, who told us, "There’s nothing more unattractive than a man who is paralyzed by life." Already having arrived at that point, I thought she was being extremely unfair. How does one become unparalyzed, or avoid it in the first place? She didn’t know how terrifying my early years were, or why college was a blur of time moving too fast for me to keep up. About fifteen years later, I’m still paralyzed, in fact even more so. I think about cleaning up this mess of an apt., and I’m brought back to a single scene from my young life. My dad had torn up the living room and overturned the furniture, and it was up to myself, my mom, and my sister to clean it up. My sister had no problem helping out, and my mom of course did the brunt of the work, but I just stood there helpless, feeling that there was no way I could get the living room back to normal. That was my first moment of paralysis, sometime around the age of five or six. I think my mom told me I was being lazy, and to this day (not that they’re necessarily related) I feel like a lazy bum, even though it’s not from simple lack of interest that I remain inert, but from some sort of existential shock. But anyway, if it hurts to not move, and it hurts to move, it only makes sense to move … but the fear builds up very quickly as soon as I undertake any task. Life is not supposed to be about surviving through shock, it’s supposed to be about participating in the experience of being human. So far this eludes me. I participate in the experience of evading the moment, in the same way that if you hold a flame to your hand for too long, you can’t physically hold it there any longer. It pulls away reflexively. I can’t seem to force myself to experience life any more, and only kill time between obligations. When I did experience life, it was only for about a six month period, and while it was wonderful, it was also pretty shattering. (I carry her picture in my wallet now, even though that was the late 80s.) If the answer lies in prayer, so far prayer has only made the next world seem very appealing, and helped ease my fear of death to the point where I fantasize about an easy death and a nice afterlife. When I take my meds, I often vet the idea (just for a second) that I might just take them all. It always gets rejected, but the thought arises nonetheless. So it’s been too long that I’ve sat inert, and I hope to be able to break out of some of this soon. I don’t know how, exactly. The therapists at CMH are social workers, not psychologists, and are more concerned with filling in the database form for my "person-centered treatment plan" than focusing on the person who’s being treated. One never knows, though. There might be hope. Just some thoughts as I ponder sleep, and realize I won’t be able to nod off for another few hours. Hope all in ASAPM-land are doing well. Ian — http://sundry.ws/ — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm
– The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm
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Hi Ian I can only guess at what scares your early years left you,but I can say that life is what you make it .Some people dont leave theit home town all their life and look back and see achivment others travel searching for who knows what and die wishing they had done that other thing they missed.I think the media gives so many false realities. Things that happened in your past when you were young have a huge impact on your life but you can change your direction ,if you want ,you may find it terrifying at first but you can do it .Yiu may not think so as you read this but you deserve to be here as much as any one else .Prehaps your first step tomorrow should be to find a good therepist .Shop around if you have to .The first and only phsyciatristI went and saw was an ashole and it took a couple of extra trys to find someone I was comfortable with. Drug therapy is only a small part of getting on to you need good advice ,and someone who can take you back to your childhood and find the damage and help you repair the damage. I have been where you are and know there is light at the end of that long loneley tunnel,if there is a god he resides in your mind so you are just praying to your self ,prehaps you should listen to this bloke who is preying and take a step forward.Life was not ment to be easy but it was not ment to be shit either regards dennis — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm
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I have been where you are and know there is light at the end of that long loneley tunnel
That’s what I’m banking on. The more I delve into this, the clearer it becomes. if there is a god he resides in your mind so you are just praying to your self
Well, luckily I don’t subscribe to that theory. What a cheering way to wake up! Ian — http://sundry.ws/ — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm
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What someone told me the other day on here, that action comes first, and motivation follows, I’ve discovered is true. I’ve noticed all my life that the farther down in the doldrums I get, the harder it is to get up, and the more active I get, the easier it is to stay active. My old dad once told me he thought that life was not a journey, but a series of high and low points … this is lack of hope. Life, to me, aside from mystical concerns, is about momentum, and my anxiety and depression have kept me in stasis for too long. I guess if it hurts to not move, and it hurts to move, one might as well move.
I need to have that last sentence surgically implanted. I just wish there weren’t two ways to end that sentence: 1. one might as well move 2. one might as well go back to bed The quality of life depends on which one we do. It’s always easier to surrender than to keep fighting, and there are some good rationales for doing so — Fritz Perls’ "don’t push the river, it flows by itself" comes to mind. Depression has me living on the edge of paralysis probably 80% of the time but it finally does come down to this question: Am I sick because I’m not fighting, or am I not fighting because I am sick? I hate dilemmas more than I hate beets, and I really really hate beets. I had a prof once in college, in a class on modern poetry, who told us, "There’s nothing more unattractive than a man who is paralyzed by life." Already having arrived at that point, I thought she was being extremely unfair.
Some,if not most, people just don’t get it. I try not to get close to them. Trying to change their minds is like trying to teach a pig to sing: it wastes your time and annoys the pig. How does one become unparalyzed, or avoid it in the first place? She didn’t know how terrifying my early years were, or why college was a blur of time moving too fast for me to keep up. About fifteen years later, I’m still paralyzed, in fact even more so. I think about cleaning up this mess of an apt., and I’m brought back to a single scene from my young life. My dad had torn up the living room and overturned the furniture, and it was up to myself, my mom, and my sister to clean it up. My sister had no problem helping out, and my mom of course did the brunt of the work, but I just stood there helpless, feeling that there was no way I could get the living room back to normal. That was my first moment of paralysis, sometime around the age of five or six. I think my mom told me I was being lazy, and to this day (not that they’re necessarily related) I feel like a lazy bum, even though it’s not from simple lack of interest that I remain inert, but from some sort of existential shock.
I have never figured out if there was one moment that stopped me wanting to develop my tidying-up skills. I have talked to Mom about it, and she said I’ve just always been loath to pick up my room. She always had to push push push me to do it. I’m 53 now and I still can’t do it. I’m always waiting for this elusive thing called "the right time" — when there’s a confluence of positive attitude, physical well-being, and no external pressures. There are probably other ingredients, but that doesn’t matter to me at this moment. My point includes this — room cleaning is only ONE of the areas of my life that is dysfunctional in exactly this way. To move or not to move. But anyway, if it hurts to not move, and it hurts to move, it only makes sense to move … but the fear builds up very quickly as soon as I undertake any task. Life is not supposed to be about surviving through shock, it’s supposed to be about participating in the experience of being human. So far this eludes me.
I think we’re onto something here, and I think it’s yet another dilemma. I’ll try to delineate it. There are some effective ways of surviving shock, relieving suffering, etc, and we study them and trade them like recipes. I don’t know if this applies to you or not, but I’m taking a gamble that it does: it doesn’t matter how many fine tools we have if we feel the work isn’t worth the effort. And that, I do believe, is the fault of the illness of depression itself. That’s the…… oh what’s the term….. Catch-22 of depression. We feel awful, we want to feel better, but working to feel better is so f*cking hard and there’s no guarantee it’ll work and I might as well go back to bed. With a box of doughnuts, or whatever palliative you prefer. Depressed if you do, depressed if you don’t. I participate in the experience of evading the moment, in the same way that if you hold a flame to your hand for too long, you can’t physically hold it there any longer. It pulls away reflexively. I can’t seem to force myself to experience life any more, and only kill time between obligations. When I did experience life, it was only for about a six month period, and while it was wonderful, it was also pretty shattering. (I carry her picture in my wallet now, even though that was the late 80s.)
I packed away the pictures, but internet searches are just as available and ubiquitous as a wallet photo. I read about him, I curse his name, I long for him. The good times were exactly what I wanted, and the ending was horrible and I’m still angry, 8 years later. If the answer lies in prayer, so far prayer has only made the next world seem very appealing, and helped ease my fear of death to the point where I fantasize about an easy death and a nice afterlife.
I stopped believing in the power of prayer a long time ago. Droves of people prayed for my father; in spite of thousands of man-hours of supplications to some kind of Almighty, his health, both physical and mental, degenerated in an agonizing slowness. He had the brain tumor operation in 1957, and he died in 1981. Prayer didn’t do jackshit for him. I, too, fantasize about the easy death. A nice afterlife would be a pleasant surprise, but I’m not counting on it. There is one factor that will play the leading role in my life after Mom is gone, and it’s the answer to this question: Will I be able to change my life into something I want it to be *without* her, and if I’m unable how long will it take me to cash in my chips? (Just a caveat to all reading this — I am no where near suicidal at this time. I’m just being realistic about the possibilities in my future.) When I take my meds, I often vet the idea (just for a second) that I might just take them all. It always gets rejected, but the thought arises nonetheless. So it’s been too long that I’ve sat inert, and I hope to be able to break out of some of this soon. I don’t know how, exactly.
Me neither. I think it’s the little moves, not the big ones, that keep me alive. I have been praising myself for throwing trash into a wastebasket rather than onto the floor for the past month. It seems like such a small accomplishment, but it’s an accomplishment all the same. Sometimes I find I’m sort of obsessing about "getting it 100% right" instead of "doing the first step and being happy with that." That’s a little muddy, but I’m running out of clarity – I need a nap. The therapists at CMH are social workers, not psychologists, and are more concerned with filling in the database form for my "person-centered treatment plan" than focusing on the person who’s being treated. One never knows, though. There might be hope.
There can always be hope. Just keep the expectations out of it — that helps a lot, IME. Just some thoughts as I ponder sleep, and realize I won’t be able to nod off for another few hours. Hope all in ASAPM-land are doing well. Ian
I hope you can turn the corner with this soon, Ian. I’ve said it before — you sound so much like me, so replying to your post is talking to myself as well as to you. So, all of this is my way of saying "I understand and I wish I had the Big Answer for you." Hugs if you want them, Deirdre — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm
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stay away form contextual, abstract philosophical horseshit
Thanks, margrove. I will update my filters accordingly. Ian — http://sundry.ws/ — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm
Response:
What someone told me the other day on here, that action comes first, and motivation follows, I’ve discovered is true. I’ve noticed all my life that the farther down in the doldrums I get, the harder it is to get up, and the more active I get, the easier it is to stay active. My old dad once told me he thought that life was not a journey, but a series of high and low points … this is lack of hope. Life, to me, aside from mystical concerns, is about momentum, and my anxiety and depression have kept me in stasis for too long. I guess if it hurts to not move, and it hurts to move, one might as well move. I had a prof once in college, in a class on modern poetry, who told us, "There’s nothing more unattractive than a man who is paralyzed by life." Already having arrived at that point, I thought she was being extremely unfair. How does one become unparalyzed, or avoid it in the first place? She didn’t know how terrifying my early years were, or why college was a blur of time moving too fast for me to keep up. About fifteen years later, I’m still paralyzed, in fact even more so. I think about cleaning up this mess of an apt., and I’m brought back to a single scene from my young life. My dad had torn up the living room and overturned the furniture, and it was up to myself, my mom, and my sister to clean it up. My sister had no problem helping out, and my mom of course did the brunt of the work, but I just stood there helpless, feeling that there was no way I could get the living room back to normal. That was my first moment of paralysis, sometime around the age of five or six. I think my mom told me I was being lazy, and to this day (not that they’re necessarily related) I feel like a lazy bum, even though it’s not from simple lack of interest that I remain inert, but from some sort of existential shock. But anyway, if it hurts to not move, and it hurts to move, it only makes sense to move … but the fear builds up very quickly as soon as I undertake any task. Life is not supposed to be about surviving through shock, it’s supposed to be about participating in the experience of being human. So far this eludes me. I participate in the experience of evading the moment, in the same way that if you hold a flame to your hand for too long, you can’t physically hold it there any longer. It pulls away reflexively. I can’t seem to force myself to experience life any more, and only kill time between obligations. When I did experience life, it was only for about a six month period, and while it was wonderful, it was also pretty shattering. (I carry her picture in my wallet now, even though that was the late 80s.) If the answer lies in prayer, so far prayer has only made the next world seem very appealing, and helped ease my fear of death to the point where I fantasize about an easy death and a nice afterlife. When I take my meds, I often vet the idea (just for a second) that I might just take them all. It always gets rejected, but the thought arises nonetheless. So it’s been too long that I’ve sat inert, and I hope to be able to break out of some of this soon. I don’t know how, exactly. The therapists at CMH are social workers, not psychologists, and are more concerned with filling in the database form for my "person-centered treatment plan" than focusing on the person who’s being treated. One never knows, though. There might be hope. Just some thoughts as I ponder sleep, and realize I won’t be able to nod off for another few hours. Hope all in ASAPM-land are doing well. Ian — http://sundry.ws/ — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm
Response:
What someone told me the other day on here, that action comes first, and motivation follows, I’ve discovered is true. I’ve noticed all my life that the farther down in the doldrums I get, the harder it is to get up, and the more active I get, the easier it is to stay active. My old dad once told me he thought that life was not a journey, but a series of high and low points … this is lack of hope.
both ideas are not mutaully exclusive Life, to me, aside from mystical concerns, is about momentum, and my anxiety and depression have kept me in stasis for too long.
homeostasis means balance -I think you mean static I guess if it hurts to not move, and it hurts to move, one might as well move. I had a prof once in college, in a class on modern poetry, who told us, "There’s nothing more unattractive than a man who is paralyzed by life." Already having arrived at that point, I thought she was being extremely unfair. How does one become unparalyzed, or avoid it in the first place?
according to whom? Paralysis of what kind and by what? She didn’t know how terrifying my early years were, or why college was a blur of time moving too fast for me to keep up. About fifteen years later, I’m still paralyzed, in fact even more so. I think about cleaning up this mess of an apt., and I’m brought back to a single scene from my young life. My dad had torn up the living room and overturned the furniture, and it was up to myself, my mom, and my sister to clean it up. My sister had no problem helping out, and my mom of course did the brunt of the work, but I just stood there helpless, feeling that there was no way I could get the living room back to normal. That was my first moment of paralysis, sometime around the age of five or six.
a six year old is hardly empowered or empowering, finding this epiphany of your 6th year a momentus moment is hardly worth your introspection. You were 6. I think my mom told me I was being lazy, and to this day (not that they’re necessarily related) I feel like a lazy bum, even though it’s not from simple lack of interest that I remain inert, but from some sort of existential shock.
what does a lazy bum feel like? Define it. Define your terms to see how you are perpetuating a sense of ontological angst and hoplessness But anyway, if it hurts to not move, and it hurts to move, it only makes sense to move … but the fear builds up very quickly as soon as I undertake any task. Life is not supposed to be about surviving through shock, it’s supposed to be about participating in the experience of being human. So far this eludes me.
again these things are not mutually exclusive-you see things black and white all or nothing and discount any other possibility. besides-Life should be nothing other then what it is you cannot demand, whithout emotinal consequences of frustration, what life should do or be-it is what it is and you do the rest. I participate in the experience of evading the moment, in the same way that if you hold a flame to your hand for too long, you can’t physically hold it there any longer. It pulls away reflexively. I can’t seem to force myself to experience life any more, and only kill time between obligations.
you experience life whether you want to or not-you choose to try and believe you are not When I did experience life, it was only for about a six month period, and while it was wonderful, it was also pretty shattering. (I carry her picture in my wallet now, even though that was the late 80s.) If the answer lies in prayer, so far prayer has only made the next world seem very appealing, and helped ease my fear of death to the point where I fantasize about an easy death and a nice afterlife. When I take my meds, I often vet the idea (just for a second) that I might just take them all. It always gets rejected, but the thought arises nonetheless. So it’s been too long that I’ve sat inert,
rather suffering at the hands of your own inertia you are hardly inert and I hope to be able to break out of some of this soon. I don’t know how, exactly. The therapists at CMH are social workers, not psychologists, and are more concerned with filling in the database form for my "person-centered treatment plan" than focusing on the person who’s being treated. One never knows, though. There might be hope. Just some thoughts as I ponder sleep, and realize I won’t be able to nod off for another few hours. Hope all in ASAPM-land are doing well. Ian — http://sundry.ws/
your thoughts are riddled with depression, your ability to truly test the boundaries of what you feel and think are like trying to look through the grey film of a dirty windsheild-you are a bright person, capable of moving beyond the internal pain you dwell in-you need to seek some better treatment courses and read, study and dwell in the tomes of others who have worked with, been through or helped others with these issues-stay away form contextual, abstract philosophical horseshit, it will only confirm your misery-read anyhting written by behavioral or cognitive therapists, patients or students-start with mans search for meaning by viktor frankl although it is not anywhere basd on cbt ideology, it is a book that illustrates how we give ourselves meaning-not our symptoms — The charter is available at: http://readystump.algebra.com/~asapm
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