a specific psychiatric condition, if you’ve been diagnosed with it then you don’t need it defined, if you need it defined I hope you are never considered clinical – but if you are curious or concerned, ask Ruby, she knows
Lately I have been feeling the weight of not contributing to Canvas as much as I had originally planned. Even on my own blog I have barely had the time or energy to sketch, post and read updates from others. But not posting on my own blog burdens me less for some reason.
I keep quiet mostly about my illness, a stupid male pride thing. But on Canvas I found a means to express and share – partly to help myself process some thoughts and feelings and also in the hope I may be able to help others in some small way by sharing.
“The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance.” ~Aristotle
I hope you know the depth of my love.
The lengths I would go to for you.
The things I would do to protect you.
The things I would do to provide for you.
The way my heart aches at what the world could do. Continue reading
It finally happened. Officially, I mean. I’ve reached the end of the line. After six-and-a-half years of extremely intensive psychiatric treatment, the first fiveish with an incredibly bright, creative, thinking-outside-of-the-box younger doc; the last year-plus with a man long experienced in the mood disorder game (not to mention numerous consults along the way), it has been made manifest.
I know I have depression. I know I am introverted. I know I have generalized anxiety with a good dose of SAD. I know these well at certain times. One of those times is when I get my hair cut. Here is an account of my latest visit to “Aldos”. Continue reading
For something different, I thought I’d share a personal reflection on a piece of music that has become quite special to me.
The song is called “Dog” (by Andy Bull) in reference to the well known Churchill euphemism for depression. I first heard it as I was driving home from work in 2010. The words of this song rang so true for me … and it was the beginning of the realization that there are people who understand how it is to be me. Continue reading
Health problems and the fear of dying caused anxiety and triggered my depression …
I remember sitting in a car outside a Medical Clinic, scared beyond any other memory, as I opened a letter to hear if the scan had found a brain tumor.
I remember one year later (my wife 7 months pregnant with our third) being told to lay still on the hospital bed as the nurse tore off the ECG printout and ran to the hallway calling, “He’s having a heart attack!” Continue reading