"I might wear black for four years straight."

Archive for the ‘depression’ Category


with 3 comments

“The unheroic, self-humiliation and putting ourselves down with negative self-talk, is a form of masochism with a potentially religious aim: to gain forgiveness through a mode of redemption.  This dedication to suffering — to amplifying suffering — produces meaning, compassion, humility, and healing.  But it is an alchemical stage, not a way of life — not suffering for suffering’s sake.  It is a discipline of the soul which contradicts the ego attitude, but those with chronic depression seem stuck in this stage, unable to escape the black mood.” -alchemist Iona Miller, talking about the first stage of the alchemical process.


Written by phineas

June 28, 2010 at 1:12 am

Posted in alchemy, depression

Tagged with

don’t rake up my mistakes.

with 3 comments

I don’t usually talk about this stuff. Not even to my husband or my best friend or my mom.

I feel like I’ve been lugging around Pandora’s box all these years. It felt like I would not survive if I opened the box.

But it is not Pandora’s box. It’s mine. It doesn’t have the evils of the world in it. Lately I feel the urge, maybe the instinct, to slowly open it. It feels full of demons, half-alive things that I’ve kept past their sell-by date. Some of these events from my past still resonate, as if with overwhelming power. I want to drop all these things into the river and let them go.

If I told the truth about these things, what else would I tell the truth about?

Written by phineas

June 4, 2010 at 8:57 pm

Posted in depression

you’re not still taking that, are you?

with one comment

I don’t remember much from the year I was nineteen. But I know that I tried a lot of drugs that didn’t work. When this happens, they start trying you on the new and untested drugs. They put me on one called Remeron. You have probably never heard of Remeron. They almost never prescribe it anymore, mainly because it puts you into a stupor and makes you literally insanely hungry.

When I reported these horrific side effects, nobody believed me. The general response I got was a coded version of “Uh-huh, we all know you’re fat and lazy,” though my doctor kindly prescribed me fen-phen to help with my weight issues. Eight months or so later he said, “Uh, you’re not still taking that, are you?”

One of the hardest things about being a young person with mental illness is that nobody believes you about a goddamn thing. (Or so it felt — I was probably mewling constantly about trifling self-absorbed crap, so it is to be expected that people would learn to tune me out.)

Incredibly, the Remeron did help me stabilize. Or maybe being fat and tired just numbed me out for a while. At any rate, I was to stay on that drug for another seven years.

Written by phineas

June 4, 2010 at 8:37 pm

my brain.

with 2 comments

I have bad depression. I’ve had it since I was twelve.

The latest medical consensus is that I probably have something more like post-traumatic stress disorder. My doctor thinks that diagnoses are not as important as feeling better — and I generally do feel better, these days. But there is still a fuse blown in my brain somewhere. I am susceptible to shockingly dark moods.

When these moods come, there’s not much I can do other than slow down, reduce the stress and stimuli around me, and let it pass. Sometimes, the mood shift can be linked to something tangible going on in my life, but usually not.

This evening, I tried to take a walk. I only managed to get around the block before I had to come home. My bad mood might be related to giving up sugar, but I don’t know for sure. So here I am, camped out on the couch, writing instead.

Written by phineas

June 2, 2010 at 11:26 pm

Posted in depression