I am having the damnedest time writing and have for the longest time. I think to myself, “I love to write!” But all I want to do is puzzles, primarily cryptograms with a few others thrown in. I thought to myself today, this is a symptom of depression: you like to do something, you know it will help you to do it, and you don’t do it. What the hell, me?
The thought came into my mind, “People who have not experienced it cannot understand the mind-numbing, paralyzing, utter inability…” I don’t remember how the thought ended, but I immediately felt I could not put such a thought into a blog post. Nobody would buy it, I thought. They will tell me to stop being such a whiny baby, and maybe they are right.
I am going through a few things, but let’s face it: We all have problems and many people have far worse ones than mine. As I have mentioned before, I suffer from depression. I don’t like to write it or say it, because it sounds like I am asking for sympathy or making an excuse. And it feels as if I have exposed something private and secret I would really, really rather not talk about. Some people do not “believe in” depression. They feel it is a made-up problem and I need to just stop whining and pull myself up by those boot straps they’re always talking about.
Only I rarely wear boots and the ones I have don’t have straps.
Then again, not whining is not a bad start. I cannot pull myself up by my bootstraps (and what a hoary cliche that is, anyways), but there are things I can do to make myself feel better. I will try to do some of them. For example, starting on a better blog post for tomorrow. We’ll call this one a Wuss-out Wednesday and drive on.