Guerrilla Tactics in Battling Depression, Part 2

I really don't feel like writing at the moment. We're in the middle of another single-digit-temperatures cold snap; I can't seem to get warm no matter how many layers I wear; my dog is tireless and won't leave me alone for more than a couple minutes; she woke me up at 3 am to go to the bathroom, and I wasn't able to get decent sleep last night as a result; there are a million things to do at home; this weekend was filled with frustrations; and the impatient, angry mood I've been managing lately has intensified over the last few days. Good times. I'm at the point where I want everything, and everyone who gets in my way, to f*&k off.

Okay. I've clearly escalated. I'm not sure "f&*k-ing off," or isolating myself, is A) feasible at the moment, and, moreover, B) what will actually do me some good.

You see, I want to get away from all that stuff: I'm feeling, and have been feeling, like life is kicking me around a bit, and, moreover, as if I've had no control. It's natural and normal to want to get away from that kind of discomfort -- it's indicative of an important learning tool, as a matter of fact. Think about it: from infancy, if you touch something hot, you reflexively withdraw your hand. If you stub your toe, you yell "ow!" and stop what you're doing until you've made sure your toe is still attached to your foot. Over time, you learn to not touch things that are hot, and you learn to be more careful about walking into stuff.

Interestingly, the same principle applies with psychological discomfort, and again, it's not "bad." To illustrate my point: from infancy through childhood, when we're upset about something, our caretaker(s) give us comfort. We learn, then, to seek comfort when we're upset; and, by extension, we learn / teach ourselves to avoid discomfort and pain. While these are natural, normal aspects of human development and behavior, that last bit, avoidance, can be problematic.

I worked in a facility with a psychologist, a self-described Behaviorist, who ascribed to the theory that avoidance is at the root of most psychological problems -- depression and anxiety among them. I have to say, it makes a lot of sense. From this perspective, depression and anxiety are viewed as learned behaviors, and as defense mechanisms, moreover, against some experience, thought, feeling, etc. that is believed, by the sufferer, to be unacceptable, and to be avoided at all costs. And what a cost, indeed.

While I wouldn't classify myself as depressed at the moment, my behaviors -- thoughts and feelings are behaviors -- are currently governed by the same principles of avoidance. What I've found is that it's often helpful to jump right into the things I find myself wanting to avoid. So I feel the impulse to get away from the stuff I have to do around the house? Okay, do the stuff around the house. I wish: it weren't cold / my dog wasn't crazy / she hadn't woken me up last night / the weekend hadn't been frustrating, etc. Okay, take a breath, acknowledge that those things DID happen (are happening), and that I cannot retroactively do anything about them; acknowledge that those things sucked and I'd rather they hadn't happened; chuckle sardonically, say "f&*k it, I survived," and proceed.

To Be Continued...

PS -- Even though I didn't want to write when I started this post, I'm now really glad I did. Also, my dog settled down for a nap right after I started writing. :)