I'll be 30 in November. As I approach my next birthday I find myself revisiting the same thought that I have had in the previous five years: I've done absolutely nothing of significance with my life. I've had opportunities but I simply don't have the nerve or the motivation to move forward. The last few months combined with re-visiting the events of 2005 led me to explore a little more deeply into my mental illness.
My particular brand of depression is called dysthymia or persistent depressive disorder. It affects somewhere between 3%-6% of the population. It's a low-grade depression and it's less intense compared to major depression but not any less harmful. Major depression can last weeks or several months and is usually associated with a traumatic event, i.e. divorce, death in the family, etc. Dysthymia goes on for years, ebbing and flowing and rarely ever disappearing completely.
There were a few stated symptoms and characteristics common to each of the sources I read that really stood out for me. The first were the symptoms of fatigue and insomnia/hypersomnia. This is a daily struggle for me and I frequently feel on the verge of burn-out. I sleep a lot. The second is a lack of concentration, motivation, and productivity. Definitely true for me. It was the third thing, however, that really stood out. People who suffer from dysthymia frequently associate it with their personality. In other words, the effects that the mental illness has on their personality lead them to believe that it's just simply who they are.
It's absolutely true.
If I woke tomorrow completely cured of my mental illness, I would have no idea who I was anymore. So much of who I am, how I think, how I interact with people is influenced by me being maladjusted. Imagine me without the self-deprecation, sardonicism, or the stuttering and stumbling over words. I'm not sure what that looks like. I had a friend once call me a "raging pessimist". Would that still be around? Is that who I really am? Where does my illness end and my personality begin? Because I really don't know. I've been this way for a very, very long time. The most different I can ever remember being was in kindergarten and that's hardly the best place from which to gauge my personality.
And then there's a whole other set of questions that emerge. Would my friends still like me? I guess that would depend on what it was about me that drew them in the first place. Would I even be interesting? For all the annoyances of social awkwardness, at least it makes me a little memorable to people, if only for their amusement. I might otherwise be extremely boring.
"You think too much."
If that's what's going through your head right now, my suggestion is to halt that thought. And don't bother to share it because it's not useful to me. I'm trying to hash this all out in the hopes that I can make some sort of headway.
I haven't made use of my film school knowledge because I lack the motivation to see anything through. Which means that I need to re-consider whether my depression and anxiety are influencing that inaction or if I'm just being lazy. I can tell you that I don't want to work more than one job because every time that I do I feel like I'm suffocating and working purely to survive just so I can work some more. I have a hard time finding a job that doesn't make me want to jerk the wheel while on my commute.
Heck, I have trouble with my current occupation. I'm just a janitor. It's a thankless job and one that gives me no sense of fulfillment. I like it there because I like the staff, I don't have to deal with people, and it's low-stress. Yet that isn't even an escape. A week or two back, my boss sent me an e-mail that detailed certain work duties and how I needed to improve on them. It sent me into a downward spiral and I was miserable for several hours after that. Now I need to make a point in saying that my boss couldn't be a nicer man and he's never said or done anything to belittle or verbally abuse me in any way. In fact, he's probably the best boss I've ever had. But even with the awareness that he held no malicious intent, the e-mail sent a tidal wave of hopelessness and anxiety.
Another example was earlier today. I had plans to meet an old friend. I was getting really high anxiety, nerves, all that. I got a message asking for a re-schedule, which could not have been more opportune. Felt immediately better after that. It's not like I was heading out to a duel or a breakdance competition or any of the other usual stuff I do on a Tuesday. It was an excessive and irrational response, but my knowing that didn't keep the physical effects from happening.
And then there's the whole self-image thing. If you ever want to get on my nerves, tell me that I need to be more confident. That drives me up the freaking wall. I might actually throw something at you. So... you know, heads up.
It's true. I think considerably little of myself. Not a big fan of Logan Hoffman. You won't see me wearing a T-shirt with his face on it anytime soon. I'm also not interested in trying to pretend to have certain qualities that I don't believe I have. I'm already depressed so I don't need to add delusional to my list of mental health issues. I'll believe something about myself when there are facts to support that belief.
It doesn't help that I really, really have a hard time taking compliments. I have a literal physical reaction when I receive them. I get really uncomfortable in those moments. Squirmy. It's especially bad any time someone tells me that I'm handsome. While not a frequent occurrence, I'm always fighting back the cringe hard when that compliment arrives. On a mental level, it's absolutely something that I desire to hear and there is part of me that appreciates it even when I'm struggling to smile through it. But if I'm honest, I think it's simply that I don't believe those people when they say it. It smacks of sympathy praise. Even my previous girlfriend, who is at the very least an 8, would say this to me and I still couldn't accept it. Don't ask how I managed to date an 8+ for over a year. I'm still scratching my head on that one.
This entry has kind of gone all over the place, which is how I've been feeling lately. I'm not sure if this qualifies as an existential crisis, but I am left wondering just what exactly I'm supposed to be and if I'm even capable of it. I don't want to leave this entry with a wholly bleak outlook. I've made progress in my life. I get counseling and I take medication, both of which have been very helpful in managing my mood. I've been working out several times a week for the past year and I got the youtube channel thing to give me something productive to do that's manageable. I just wish it were more. 30 years is a lot of time for so little to be accomplished. I'm hoping that I can push through these mental obstacles and come out on the other side with something to show for it.
My particular brand of depression is called dysthymia or persistent depressive disorder. It affects somewhere between 3%-6% of the population. It's a low-grade depression and it's less intense compared to major depression but not any less harmful. Major depression can last weeks or several months and is usually associated with a traumatic event, i.e. divorce, death in the family, etc. Dysthymia goes on for years, ebbing and flowing and rarely ever disappearing completely.
There were a few stated symptoms and characteristics common to each of the sources I read that really stood out for me. The first were the symptoms of fatigue and insomnia/hypersomnia. This is a daily struggle for me and I frequently feel on the verge of burn-out. I sleep a lot. The second is a lack of concentration, motivation, and productivity. Definitely true for me. It was the third thing, however, that really stood out. People who suffer from dysthymia frequently associate it with their personality. In other words, the effects that the mental illness has on their personality lead them to believe that it's just simply who they are.
It's absolutely true.
If I woke tomorrow completely cured of my mental illness, I would have no idea who I was anymore. So much of who I am, how I think, how I interact with people is influenced by me being maladjusted. Imagine me without the self-deprecation, sardonicism, or the stuttering and stumbling over words. I'm not sure what that looks like. I had a friend once call me a "raging pessimist". Would that still be around? Is that who I really am? Where does my illness end and my personality begin? Because I really don't know. I've been this way for a very, very long time. The most different I can ever remember being was in kindergarten and that's hardly the best place from which to gauge my personality.
And then there's a whole other set of questions that emerge. Would my friends still like me? I guess that would depend on what it was about me that drew them in the first place. Would I even be interesting? For all the annoyances of social awkwardness, at least it makes me a little memorable to people, if only for their amusement. I might otherwise be extremely boring.
"You think too much."
If that's what's going through your head right now, my suggestion is to halt that thought. And don't bother to share it because it's not useful to me. I'm trying to hash this all out in the hopes that I can make some sort of headway.
I haven't made use of my film school knowledge because I lack the motivation to see anything through. Which means that I need to re-consider whether my depression and anxiety are influencing that inaction or if I'm just being lazy. I can tell you that I don't want to work more than one job because every time that I do I feel like I'm suffocating and working purely to survive just so I can work some more. I have a hard time finding a job that doesn't make me want to jerk the wheel while on my commute.
Heck, I have trouble with my current occupation. I'm just a janitor. It's a thankless job and one that gives me no sense of fulfillment. I like it there because I like the staff, I don't have to deal with people, and it's low-stress. Yet that isn't even an escape. A week or two back, my boss sent me an e-mail that detailed certain work duties and how I needed to improve on them. It sent me into a downward spiral and I was miserable for several hours after that. Now I need to make a point in saying that my boss couldn't be a nicer man and he's never said or done anything to belittle or verbally abuse me in any way. In fact, he's probably the best boss I've ever had. But even with the awareness that he held no malicious intent, the e-mail sent a tidal wave of hopelessness and anxiety.
Another example was earlier today. I had plans to meet an old friend. I was getting really high anxiety, nerves, all that. I got a message asking for a re-schedule, which could not have been more opportune. Felt immediately better after that. It's not like I was heading out to a duel or a breakdance competition or any of the other usual stuff I do on a Tuesday. It was an excessive and irrational response, but my knowing that didn't keep the physical effects from happening.
And then there's the whole self-image thing. If you ever want to get on my nerves, tell me that I need to be more confident. That drives me up the freaking wall. I might actually throw something at you. So... you know, heads up.
It's true. I think considerably little of myself. Not a big fan of Logan Hoffman. You won't see me wearing a T-shirt with his face on it anytime soon. I'm also not interested in trying to pretend to have certain qualities that I don't believe I have. I'm already depressed so I don't need to add delusional to my list of mental health issues. I'll believe something about myself when there are facts to support that belief.
It doesn't help that I really, really have a hard time taking compliments. I have a literal physical reaction when I receive them. I get really uncomfortable in those moments. Squirmy. It's especially bad any time someone tells me that I'm handsome. While not a frequent occurrence, I'm always fighting back the cringe hard when that compliment arrives. On a mental level, it's absolutely something that I desire to hear and there is part of me that appreciates it even when I'm struggling to smile through it. But if I'm honest, I think it's simply that I don't believe those people when they say it. It smacks of sympathy praise. Even my previous girlfriend, who is at the very least an 8, would say this to me and I still couldn't accept it. Don't ask how I managed to date an 8+ for over a year. I'm still scratching my head on that one.
This entry has kind of gone all over the place, which is how I've been feeling lately. I'm not sure if this qualifies as an existential crisis, but I am left wondering just what exactly I'm supposed to be and if I'm even capable of it. I don't want to leave this entry with a wholly bleak outlook. I've made progress in my life. I get counseling and I take medication, both of which have been very helpful in managing my mood. I've been working out several times a week for the past year and I got the youtube channel thing to give me something productive to do that's manageable. I just wish it were more. 30 years is a lot of time for so little to be accomplished. I'm hoping that I can push through these mental obstacles and come out on the other side with something to show for it.
-L. Travis Hoffman
9/26/2017
If you're interested in learning a little more about dysthymia, here's a couple of links.
https://themighty.com/2016/05/the-problem-with-dysthymia-or-persistentchronic-depressive-disorder/
http://www.medicinenet.com/dysthymia/article.htm
https://www.health.harvard.edu/newsletter_article/Dysthymia
http://www.hopetocope.com/dysthymia-break-through-the-fog-3/
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