Disclaimer: This isn't just a blog for my tech projects. When I started this blog my main focus was to write and post anything that would come to mind. I figured that I would write about the things that were most important to me and maybe connect with another reader in the process. So today's post is just a way for me to vent about a challenge that I am currently trying to solve in my personal life.
When I was a kid I wanted to have a cool walking staff just like Gandalf's. Often while I was camping with my family I would search for the perfect staff to carve. Eventually I found the perfect stick and I was allowed to bring it home to carve. After a few months I hadn't even started on my carving but my new staff became my tool of adventure. It could be a sword or a spear to fight off hordes of monsters. Other times it was a tool of magical power that allowed me to accomplish the impossible. This staff had become essential for imaginary games with me and my brothers.
One day I got angry. I can't remember what happened but I remember breaking my own staff in a fit of rage. Afterwords I finally realized what I had done and there was nothing I could do to fix my staff. So I did another hard thing I threw it away and tried to move on.
My life has been a series of broken sticks (metaphorically speaking). These sticks have been items of value, friendships, or even earned trust from others. Each stick was important and I had given them a personal value in my life. Every time I broke a stick I had to throw it away, and every time it got harder. It wasn't until high school that I discovered why I constantly broke my sticks. That was when I learned that I was suffering from depression.
Now you may be thinking that depression just makes you sad and think about killing yourself. You can be angry as well with depression, and for me that is what makes my depression worse. I had a terrible cycle where I could fuel my depression to extreme levels. Honestly looking back at my life I wonder how did I make it through breaking many sticks. I hated my depression for years wishing that it would go away and let me keep my sticks safe where I couldn't break them on my own. I had tried drugs and various forms of counseling, but nothing seemed to work.
Then one day I decided to accept that I was going to live with depression for the rest of my life and that I just needed to accept that some sticks would get broken. I made it a challenge to never break the sticks that I valued the most. Has it been perfect since that decision? Nope, and I never expected it to be, but I have changed. I'm learning when I get close to my breaking point and I am trying to find positive ways to vent my anger before I break one of my precious sticks. I also know I can't keep my sticks safe on my own. I still need help and a chance. Will I mess up again? Yes, but I can make you a promise that I will do everything in my power to plant a tree that will grow another hundred sticks to replace the one I broke. That one of my favorite things about sticks is that I can grow more. Will it be the same stick? No, but the tree can make a stronger stick that will be much harder to break. Growing new sticks takes time but the reward of a stronger stick that I can't break will be worth every bit of effort.
So will you give me another chance?
- Click
No comments:
Post a Comment