Dementors and Society

It’s pretty clear from some of my previous posts that I’m a Potter-head, so it shouldn’t be a big surprise that depression and battling Dementors have sort of a become synonymous with each other.

This morning, and recently, the Dementors have hit me pretty bad.  There’s been good moments that I’ve chosen to not focus on; I know that.  When you hit a down swing, thinking happy thoughts and being positive when you are not in the best environment for you is really difficult.  Right now is a good moment so I figured I’d try this post again; it’s going better than the destruction post I was going to post.

I don’t want the meds and the chemicals that could either dull the pain and make me complacent or just dull the pain and leave my unable to function.  Want to know the root of addiction?  Not being able to find makes you happy and chasing that brief happy feeling any addictive substance creates.  Reading, alcohol, eating and writing are my addictions.  They are my go to stress relievers because I lost my happy place.  Things change and now I’m dealing with the fallout of those changes.  They aren’t bad changes; they are just changes.  Deaths, promotions, graduations… I’ve written about this before.

Again, maybe some of you are saying the meds would help level me out.  They might; they might not.  I don’t want to be permanently zombie-fied, which is who I was from my experience with the drugs.  I was there for two years when I was 14.  I’m not trying to be there again now and so far, have been able to not be.

So what do Dementors and society have to do with this post?  I’m depressed and I’m lost because I have put myself in a situation where I can see ways out of my current situation but am afraid of taking the risk of doing what would make me happy.  I have way too much to lose that I’m grasping at straws.  I want a simple life but to get there, I’d have to give up my job and move.

Society has trained me to believe that risk is not worth it, that I’m not worth it, that the only good place for me is in an office.  But there’s got to be more satisfaction than pushing papers around, taking notes, and meeting people I have no interest in being around.  That’s not their fault.  I’m just not interested in office work anymore.

As for the Dementors, I can feel life being sucked out of me.  I can feel my motivation and my life slipping through my fingers.  Honestly, I’m starting to feel like a zombie meandering through this life and taking what little pleasure I can from what I can.

When I was younger, I wrote a poem called “Mime-in-a-Box.”  I don’t remember all the words of my poem but the jist of it was I’m in a box and I’m yelling, pounding on glass, and no one can hear me or see me.  No one looked up.  I spent a year and some change getting used to that box and becoming just like the people who were walking past me.  I don’t want to be that person anymore, yet I’m screaming at the people trying to save me from that state because being in that state is easy.  Being a part of the world is F-ing hard.  Caring about other people than your immediate circle is hard.  Caring for yourself is just as hard, but worth it.

Small changes though, right?  Right.

Listening to:  Amazon’s Top 50 Alt songs

Reading:  The Girl who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest by Stieg Larsson

Quote of the Day:  “The greatest weapon against stress is our ability to choose one thought over another.” – William James


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