I'm hesitant to talk about all this. I want to share how much my mental health has been improving. At the same time, I worry that my sharing of certain realizations will make me come across as big-headed and delusional. I guess I still have a lot to work on where my insecurities are concerned.
I started working on a screenplay around a month ago. The impetus sprung from the restlessness of being a 30 year old man that's surrounded by people who are moving forward in their lives. These are peers of my age and even much younger who are married, have families, or are in their career of choice. Comparatively speaking, I am stagnant in this area of life. I'm not in the place I had hoped that I would be in a decade ago. But the screenplay isn't really about that anymore. It went down an alternate but related path. Instead, I've chosen to focus on depicting the struggles of a man with depression. I wanted to show how he perceives the world through the prism that is despair. I wanted to have real conversations that a depressed person would have and to show the warped logic that informs his flawed/false conclusions. Most important of all, I wanted to show real therapeutic techniques that the protagonist would ultimately use as the means to improve his life.
The script is still heavily influenced by my own life and troubles with depression. Many conversations have been lifted verbatim from discussions that I've actually had with friends and/or with my therapists. Most of the characters are composites of people that I know with additional details that mold them into their own distinctive person. For the therapy and treatment scenes, I decided to do some research. I'm currently reading Cognitive Therapy of Depression by Aaron T. Beck, A. John Rush, Brian F. Shaw, and Gary Emery. This is where the meat of my entry truly begins.
Almost right away, I found myself benefitting from reading this book. I've been in treatment in one form or another for more than 15 years. I've had the necessary information repeated to me over and over and over again. I always understood it, but I never believed it. However, there was something about reading it in a technical manual that somehow made it real to me. For example, this portion on page 11 of the book hit me like a ton of bricks:
"Concept of Cognitive Triad
The cognitive triad consists of three major cognitive patterns that induce the patient to regard himself, his future, and his experiences in an idiosyncratic manner. The first component of the triad revolves around the patient's negative view of himself. He sees himself as defective, inadequate, diseased, or deprived. He tends to attribute his unpleasant experiences to a psychological, moral, or physical defect in himself. In his view, the patient believes that because of his presumed defects that he is undesirable and worthless. He tends to underestimate or criticize himself because of them. Finally, he believes he lacks the attributes he considers essential to attain happiness and contentment.
The second component of the cognitive triad consists of the depressed person's tendency to interpret his ongoing experiences in a negative way. He sees the world as making exorbitant demands on him and/or presenting insuperable obstacles to reaching his life goals. He misinterprets his interactions with his animate or inanimate environment as representing defeat or deprivation. These negative misinterpretations are evident when one observes how the patient negatively construes situations when more plausible, alternative interpretations are available. The depressed person may realize that his initial negative interpretations are biased if he is persuaded to reflect on these less negative alternative explanations. In this way, he can come to realize that he has tailored the facts to fit his preformed negative conclusions.
The third component of the cognitive triad consists of a negative view of the future. As the depressed person makes long-range projections, he anticipates that his current difficulties or suffering will continue indefinitely. He expects unremitting hardship, frustration, and deprivation. When he considers undertaking a specific task in the immediate future, he expects to fail."
Had I been anywhere else but work when I read this, I would have broke down crying. I felt a rush of emotions flood and wash over me. I was sad, yet relieved. I was sad because I had spent almost my entire life suffering over things that I believed about myself that weren't true. I was relieved in the knowledge that because those beliefs were wrong (delusional, if you'd like), I didn't have to suffer anymore. In fact, I realized that I was much more than I had ever thought I was.
As I've gone deeper into the book, I've found myself reflecting on past events and viewing them with some much-needed clarity. One night, I asked myself a question that I had never pondered over: What is the happiest memory I have? Even though I had never asked myself this question, I knew the answer right away. It was December, 2005. We had done a performance of Hit and Misdemeanor and the cast and crew went out to Ram's Horn to celebrate a successful show. I can remember how much everyone liked me in that group. They thought I was funny and likable and talented. It was also the first time I had ever met someone that reciprocated feelings of attraction. I remember the group following me around as I ran zig-zag through the parking lot. They cheered when I took a leak behind a dumpster. They circled around me when I did my chicken rap (a gosh-awful combination of clucking and beat-boxing that was painfully unfunny yet people loved for some reason). I laid in bed that night and I couldn't fall asleep for hours because of the euphoria of it all.
With the knowledge that this is my happiest memory came another easy question with an obvious answer: Why? This memory captures a moment where I had the very things that I've always wanted in life. I was affirmed in my talents and wanted by a girl that I had fallen for.
All of this began to snowball into other tangents and revelations. I don't think my singing is as wretched as I did before. It's decent and I can take compliments without wincing too much. I've looked back on some of my old scripts and noted that they're not bad at all. In fact, they're pretty friggin' good. But neither of these compared to the bombshell that came a few days later.
I should start with a little backstory. The aforementioned girl that I had fallen for ended up dumping me a month after I asked her out. I was miserable and withdrawn for months. Years later, a conversation with a former female classmate revealed that she had been interested in me and that I should've said/done something in those months. Let me tell you something... when I heard this, there were not enough walls in my house for me to bang my head against in frustration. I still regret my missing that opportunity.
This is where it gets really uncomfortable for me. To speak or even type about this gives me this odd recoil that I have to fight hard against. Here goes nothing...
Thinking about that missed opportunity made me suddenly remember other interested parties during that era. I've come up with a count of five girls, plus two unconfirmed ladies. That's also not taking into account individuals that were interested but whom I was never attracted to. When I actually thought about that, it made me realize that I was a lot better-looking than I was giving myself credit for. This is made doubly shocking when you take into account how especially mopey and obnoxious my personality was during that time.
Typing all that out, it feels so weird. I was tempted to write something in defense of myself, but I stopped. This is enough. I've spent my entire life convinced that I was beyond ugly. Like, "Forget the paper bag, just take him in the back and shoot him" kind of ugly. But I'm not and I feel absolutely wonderful.
I'm not sure what other things I will stumble upon about myself in the days, weeks, or months to come. I know that I'm excited and I'm grateful to be making so much progress in so short a time.
I'm happy.
I started working on a screenplay around a month ago. The impetus sprung from the restlessness of being a 30 year old man that's surrounded by people who are moving forward in their lives. These are peers of my age and even much younger who are married, have families, or are in their career of choice. Comparatively speaking, I am stagnant in this area of life. I'm not in the place I had hoped that I would be in a decade ago. But the screenplay isn't really about that anymore. It went down an alternate but related path. Instead, I've chosen to focus on depicting the struggles of a man with depression. I wanted to show how he perceives the world through the prism that is despair. I wanted to have real conversations that a depressed person would have and to show the warped logic that informs his flawed/false conclusions. Most important of all, I wanted to show real therapeutic techniques that the protagonist would ultimately use as the means to improve his life.
The script is still heavily influenced by my own life and troubles with depression. Many conversations have been lifted verbatim from discussions that I've actually had with friends and/or with my therapists. Most of the characters are composites of people that I know with additional details that mold them into their own distinctive person. For the therapy and treatment scenes, I decided to do some research. I'm currently reading Cognitive Therapy of Depression by Aaron T. Beck, A. John Rush, Brian F. Shaw, and Gary Emery. This is where the meat of my entry truly begins.
Almost right away, I found myself benefitting from reading this book. I've been in treatment in one form or another for more than 15 years. I've had the necessary information repeated to me over and over and over again. I always understood it, but I never believed it. However, there was something about reading it in a technical manual that somehow made it real to me. For example, this portion on page 11 of the book hit me like a ton of bricks:
"Concept of Cognitive Triad
The cognitive triad consists of three major cognitive patterns that induce the patient to regard himself, his future, and his experiences in an idiosyncratic manner. The first component of the triad revolves around the patient's negative view of himself. He sees himself as defective, inadequate, diseased, or deprived. He tends to attribute his unpleasant experiences to a psychological, moral, or physical defect in himself. In his view, the patient believes that because of his presumed defects that he is undesirable and worthless. He tends to underestimate or criticize himself because of them. Finally, he believes he lacks the attributes he considers essential to attain happiness and contentment.
The second component of the cognitive triad consists of the depressed person's tendency to interpret his ongoing experiences in a negative way. He sees the world as making exorbitant demands on him and/or presenting insuperable obstacles to reaching his life goals. He misinterprets his interactions with his animate or inanimate environment as representing defeat or deprivation. These negative misinterpretations are evident when one observes how the patient negatively construes situations when more plausible, alternative interpretations are available. The depressed person may realize that his initial negative interpretations are biased if he is persuaded to reflect on these less negative alternative explanations. In this way, he can come to realize that he has tailored the facts to fit his preformed negative conclusions.
The third component of the cognitive triad consists of a negative view of the future. As the depressed person makes long-range projections, he anticipates that his current difficulties or suffering will continue indefinitely. He expects unremitting hardship, frustration, and deprivation. When he considers undertaking a specific task in the immediate future, he expects to fail."
Had I been anywhere else but work when I read this, I would have broke down crying. I felt a rush of emotions flood and wash over me. I was sad, yet relieved. I was sad because I had spent almost my entire life suffering over things that I believed about myself that weren't true. I was relieved in the knowledge that because those beliefs were wrong (delusional, if you'd like), I didn't have to suffer anymore. In fact, I realized that I was much more than I had ever thought I was.
As I've gone deeper into the book, I've found myself reflecting on past events and viewing them with some much-needed clarity. One night, I asked myself a question that I had never pondered over: What is the happiest memory I have? Even though I had never asked myself this question, I knew the answer right away. It was December, 2005. We had done a performance of Hit and Misdemeanor and the cast and crew went out to Ram's Horn to celebrate a successful show. I can remember how much everyone liked me in that group. They thought I was funny and likable and talented. It was also the first time I had ever met someone that reciprocated feelings of attraction. I remember the group following me around as I ran zig-zag through the parking lot. They cheered when I took a leak behind a dumpster. They circled around me when I did my chicken rap (a gosh-awful combination of clucking and beat-boxing that was painfully unfunny yet people loved for some reason). I laid in bed that night and I couldn't fall asleep for hours because of the euphoria of it all.
With the knowledge that this is my happiest memory came another easy question with an obvious answer: Why? This memory captures a moment where I had the very things that I've always wanted in life. I was affirmed in my talents and wanted by a girl that I had fallen for.
All of this began to snowball into other tangents and revelations. I don't think my singing is as wretched as I did before. It's decent and I can take compliments without wincing too much. I've looked back on some of my old scripts and noted that they're not bad at all. In fact, they're pretty friggin' good. But neither of these compared to the bombshell that came a few days later.
I should start with a little backstory. The aforementioned girl that I had fallen for ended up dumping me a month after I asked her out. I was miserable and withdrawn for months. Years later, a conversation with a former female classmate revealed that she had been interested in me and that I should've said/done something in those months. Let me tell you something... when I heard this, there were not enough walls in my house for me to bang my head against in frustration. I still regret my missing that opportunity.
This is where it gets really uncomfortable for me. To speak or even type about this gives me this odd recoil that I have to fight hard against. Here goes nothing...
Thinking about that missed opportunity made me suddenly remember other interested parties during that era. I've come up with a count of five girls, plus two unconfirmed ladies. That's also not taking into account individuals that were interested but whom I was never attracted to. When I actually thought about that, it made me realize that I was a lot better-looking than I was giving myself credit for. This is made doubly shocking when you take into account how especially mopey and obnoxious my personality was during that time.
Typing all that out, it feels so weird. I was tempted to write something in defense of myself, but I stopped. This is enough. I've spent my entire life convinced that I was beyond ugly. Like, "Forget the paper bag, just take him in the back and shoot him" kind of ugly. But I'm not and I feel absolutely wonderful.
I'm not sure what other things I will stumble upon about myself in the days, weeks, or months to come. I know that I'm excited and I'm grateful to be making so much progress in so short a time.
I'm happy.
-L. Travis Hoffman
4/15/2018
Comments
Post a Comment