Frustration

Ask someone with a chronic mental illness what it's like to live with it, and you'll probably hear -- among other responses -- that it's frustrating.

Many words are rightfully dedicated to the exploration of symptoms of various mental health problems, and coping strategies for the successful management thereof. After all, lots of people with mental illnesses need help learning about them. What is often overlooked in that sort of work, though, is the essential fact that it can be powerfully frustrating to live with a two-steps-forward, two-steps-back illness -- one that feels okay on some days and crippling on others. In that regard, as I recently pointed out, living with a chronic mental illness is no different than living with any other chronic illness, such as asthma, diabetes, or high blood pressure.

I digress -- let's stick with the frustration that can be felt by a person living with chronic mental illness(es).

A person struggling with their mental health can make great strides on one day, and feel as though they've uncovered the key to their ongoing wellness. Illumination can occur by way of almost anything: a thought; a sight; a sound; an interaction; a line or passage of text; a therapy session; a movie; a piece of art; an action.

And that same person can wake up the next day and discover that same key, which held so much meaning and importance yesterday, doesn't resonate today; moreover, they might discover, to their dismay, that they feel just as pained and confused and lost as ever.

How incredibly frustrating. It's easy, perhaps, to see how one could lose hope in view of such ruthless eradications of progress. We human animals are programmed to respond to, and learn from, stimuli, after all. We need positive reinforcement to see things through. In general, it's very difficult for us to favor long-term over short-term thinking. Think about it: it's why countless New Year's resolutions never come to pass; it's why so many people struggle with maintaining a nutritious diet; it's why impulse shopping is a problem for many people. We want positive feedback and results, and we want them right now.

So it goes with managing a mental illness. It's an ongoing process by nature, but we want to feel better, permanently, right now. And who can blame someone for wanting that, and for feeling that way? Not me. Mental illness can be torture.

And so, as with many things in life, mental illness isn't fair: those with the most immediate and pressing needs for comfort and peace are asked to be especially strong, patient, and diligent. 

It isn't fair, and it isn't kind, but it is a fact. 

A few more thoughts before I wrap up this post.

The various religions and mythologies of humankind have addressed these aspects of human suffering, which is important to remember, as they offer a wellspring of wisdom, guidance, and comfort. I'm going to pluck three examples off the top of my head from this vast repository -- of which most content I am, admittedly, ignorant. At any rate, the examples are 1) Shamans; 2) The Beatitudes (well, one in particular); and 3) an old Japanese proverb.

Please note it is not my intention to endorse or otherwise privilege any religion or belief system by selecting and discussing these examples.

1. You may know that the word "Shaman" is generally synonymous with "healer." What's interesting to me, though, is that a necessary precondition of being a shaman is to have experienced severe personal crisis. A shaman, then, is one who has been deeply wounded -- who has experienced, and possibly continues to experience, deep suffering. But the way through the crisis has endowed the shaman with skills of healing, which they then share with others.

2. The Beatitudes, according to Christian beliefs, were delivered by Jesus as a series of blessings and proclamations in his Sermon on the Mount. The one that comes to my mind is, "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." What that means to me in view of this discussion of mental illness is this: the struggle can feel painful and hopeless and frustrating -- but it is worth it. Why? Because if you keep struggling, you will learn, on a level of extraordinary depth, what it means to suffer, to heal, to live -- and to serve yourself and others in your own particular way. 

3. If all that feels a little out of reach and esoteric, consider the third example I referred to -- the Japanese proverb. It is, simply, this: "Fall seven times, stand up eight." 

Video: A Truth About Chronic Mental Illness

Releasing the Grip of Anxiety: Acceptance & Compassion

I want to write about anxiety. First of all, everyone feels anxious periodically. It's part of caring about things, and it's part of being human. Like other emotional experiences, anxiety provides us with important feedback in a given situation. It's adaptive, it's necessary to our well-being, it's valuable, and it's good. There's nothing wrong with anxiety in and of itself.

Some of us, though, experience anxiety to a disruptive, invasive, and even debilitating extent. And of course, this can be an occasional experience, or a persistent one, or one that waxes and wanes, or one that eventually disappears altogether, etc. There's a lot of variation with it.

Anyway, how do we differentiate between normal/healthy anxiety and problematic anxiety? My view, in general terms, is that anxiety (or any experience, really) is an issue when it persistently, invasively interferes with one's ability to function in a personally satisfying way.

(Incidentally, my view is pretty common among mental health professionals, and it more or less jives with how the various mental health "disorders" are defined by the DSM-IV-TR, which is the clinical reference guide used by mental health professionals in the USA [and some other parts of the world].)

There are many so-called Anxiety Disorders in the DSM, and for brevity's sake, I will not discuss them all here. And besides, that's enough about the problem of anxiety -- let's move into a discussion of ideas and solutions.

I think anxiety's roots are in avoidance. That is NOT to say I think it is a person's "fault" for having a problem with anxiety -- not at all!! Here's the thing: I think we all want to feel good. So when something really bad happens to a person, they do the best they can to move on with their life. And sometimes that entails developing new sets of beliefs about themselves, and about life in general; and sometimes it also entails compartmentalizing or otherwise pushing aside one's thoughts and feelings.

That all makes sense, especially in view of our intuitive desire to feel good. "Avoidance," then, in this case, is about avoiding that which causes suffering. The problem, though, is that it doesn't really work -- at least, not when it comes to the often messy reality of our inner lives. That's what I meant when I posted this image a few weeks ago:

What disruptive anxiety "says" to me, then, is that the sufferer probably has some inner "stuff" they need to approach and consider in order to truly move on. In other words, one's past must be accepted and released before one can truly occupy the present in happiness and health.

I'll be straight-up with you: The process of approaching one's "stuff" is usually pretty scary and uncomfortable; and that can seem a little counter-intuitive, of course, seeing as how the ultimate goal is achieving a greater measure of peace. 

The thing is, that's okay. Sometimes, that which seems paradoxical conceals a deeper truth. 

Take it slow. Whether you choose to undertake the process on your own, or with another person's assistance (i.e., a counselor), make sure you're in a safe, secure place in which you feel as free as possible to express anything that comes up. Also, set an expectation for yourself that it won't necessarily be a linear, quick-fix process -- and setting that expectation is important, by the way, because it invokes the keys to release: Acceptance and Compassion.

I'm going to go out on a limb and say that self-directed Acceptance and Compassion are ALWAYS harbingers of positive things to come in terms of peace, happiness, well-being, clarity, balance, and achievement. 

Here's the beautiful thing: we don't necessarily have to like something in order to accept it; and we don't necessarily have to agree with someone's actions in order to show them compassion. 

In other words, it's okay to say, "Wow, that thing that happened was really unpleasant. It was really painful. I really wish it hadn't happened." You can retain that basic attitude and still, at the end of the day, augment it with acceptance: "But it did happen. It happened. I survived it, and I'm sitting here right now."

We all have aspects of ourselves which we don't like. We've all done things we regret. We've all done things which, even today, make us feel sad and guilty to ponder. We've all done things in violation of our senses of right and wrong. And we've all had bad things done to us.

While that stuff isn't great, it doesn't mean we deserve to forever languish under the burden of displaced torment.

I firmly believe that we are all worthy of happiness and peace -- which means that we are worthy of acceptance, worthy of compassion, and worthy of forgiveness. 

After all, none of us is perfect. Let me repeat that (in all caps): NONE OF US IS PERFECT. (You might not like it, but you have to accept it.) What that means, in part, is that we periodically make big mistakes. Sometimes we screw up and hurt other people; sometimes other people screw up and hurt us.

The only thing to do is practice acceptance and compassion.

And it starts with us. It starts with each of us giving those things to ourselves, first and foremost. It starts with each of us being the kindest, most loving friend to ourselves that we can imagine. 

You, Dear Reader, are worth it. I know it in my bones. 

Thank you for reading this post. I hope you have an awesome day. 

Leaving Hell

I've made several prolonged trips to Hell. Each visit was quite terrible in its own way, and I realize, as a result, just what a vast, dynamic place Hell really is. My tour bus took me from solitary wastelands to crowded peaks, and everywhere in between. (I hope you realize I'm not speaking literally.)

Hell is the capital-w Worst, it really is. It seems to have an ability to customize itself to fit precisely the vulnerabilities of each of its visitors. It is such a torturous, despairing place, and there are some -- many -- who don't make it out alive.

I made it out alive, obviously. And I've been determined, in recent years, to make efforts which might help others who are going through their own versions of Hell, whatever that looks like. Hence, this blog, for example.

If you've been following along here in recent times, you'll have noticed I've created a number of what I call "snapshots" -- images, with several lines of pointed or inspirational text superimposed thereon. Snapshots like the ones I've been creating are nothing new, of course, and anyone who spends any time whatsoever online -- whether on Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, Reddit, etc. -- is familiar with the medium. I had mixed feelings about creating them at first, because I'm a bit of a traditionalist in that I think there is real value in taking the time to sit down, read a document in its entirety, and derive meaning.

I realized two things, however, that changed my mind and helped me take the plunge into single-shot media. First, I realized it is quite natural for people to want a distilled, simple, readily accessed message -- especially on the Internet. Time is of the essence today more than ever, it seems; and content-browsing online, furthermore, usually lends itself to short bursts of attention. I know that's true for me, most of the time. Second, I remembered that it was a series of very choice quotes, and extractions from larger bodies of text, which helped rescue me from the depths of my own version of Hell.

Since we're all different, not every story, quote, image, axiom, etc. is going to resonate equally among us. And something which resonates powerfully with a person one day may not have the same impact a day or two later.

That's beside the point.

The point is in the willingness to seek and consider new ways of life -- from a new way of looking at the world all the way on up to major lifestyle changes. I'll repeat: it's in the willingness to seek and consider new ways of life -- of being.

Those who seek will find. That I can promise you. It may not be what was originally sought after (or it may); but the journey will provide. The journey will provide the tools and lessons that a person needs in order to get where they want and need to go in life. It's what all the great stories are about, and it's what all the great religions are about. Life is our teacher; we must only be willing to listen.

I'll start to wrap up this post with a few quotes which have been especially helpful to me (one of which is my own):

"It is never too late to be what you might have been." -- George Eliot
"You are never too old to set another goal or dream another dream." -- C. S. Lewis
"Life beats down and crushes the soul, and art reminds you that you have one." -- Stella Adler
"Go confidently in the direction of your dreams!" -- Henry David Thoreau
"The cure for grief is motion." -- Elbert Hubbard
"If you want to conquer fear, don't sit home and think about it. Go out and get busy." -- Dale Carnegie

And a metaphor I developed which has proven useful on a few occasions:

"If you leave your car in the garage, it won't ever get dented or wrecked; you'll be protecting it, and you'll be protecting yourself from those headaches. That is true. But you also won't ever get anywhere. Take a chance: give primacy to your desire to get where you want to go, and take the car out of the garage." -- Yours Truly

These are but a few of the many which have helped me over the years. I encourage you to seek, collect, and create your own. Develop some metaphors -- they're amazing teachers. Maybe create a file for them on your computer (that's what I did), or a folder to keep in your desk, for quick reference.

There is an ocean of wisdom available to us, and it can be accessed just about anywhere. Anything we see, do, and experience can teach us, if only we let it -- even Hell.

Rumination and Depression

One of the common features of depression is ruminative thought. "Rumination" is defined by the Merriam-Webster dictionary as follows:

1. to go over in the mind repeatedly and often casually or slowly
2. to chew repeatedly for an extended period

The problematic fixture of rumination, when featured in depression, is its compulsive nature. Compulsive behaviors (thinking included) are characterized by obsession, repetition, automation, and a lack of choice on the part of the the individual.

Unfortunately, the thoughts, images, memories, and ideas upon which a person ruminates are usually unpleasant.

It can be easy for an outsider to consider these points and say, "Ok, just stop ruminating on that stuff." If only it were so easy. Chances are good that the person suffering from depression has tried that -- "just stopping" -- to no avail. The fact is, one usually cannot simply "stop" a compulsive behavior like rumination; rather, one (usually) must learn a new, more functional (and satisfying) behavior to replace its compulsive cousin.

I think the human mind is a diligent problem-solver. By extension, then, rumination, to me, is a process (not necessarily consciously understood) by which the mind is seeking to solve a problem. Rumination acts like quicksand, though, in that a person's thoughts get pulled into, and stuck upon, the object of rumination -- and this makes it difficult or impossible to clearly identify and solve the underlying issue. This isn't pleasant, it is usually unwelcome, and it can be highly frustrating; but it is, nevertheless, a signal from the mind that a problem exists and requires attention.

I think the intention of problem-solving in and of itself is awesome; and I think, furthermore, such intention is to be partnered with in seeking to proceed out of one's depression. In other words, embrace it, pat it on the back, and get crackin'!

The first step is to put on your Sherlock Holmes deerstalker hat and get curious about the deeper problem your rumination is seeking to solve.

(This is why I'm a big believer in therapy, incidentally. This stuff can be very difficult to recognize and describe on one's own. An impartial, external party, then, can be of incredible value to a person.)

It's impossible for me to speak in anything but general terms at this point, because everyone's problems are different. Often, however, people find that their rumination is trying to solve the following issues (which are also general terms): guilt, shame, anger, and/or frustration. People also find, sometimes, their rumination is a defense mechanism against feelings of worry, doubt, fear, powerlessness, and/or vulnerability.

The great thing is that this Sherlock Holmes process represents real hope for the sufferer. Once a person's underlying problem is understood, it is possible -- very possible -- to begin the process of resolving it. For example, if a person is struggling with shame and guilt, it is possible for that person to achieve self-forgiveness.

A really nice byproduct of all this, incidentally, is that people often learn so, so much about themselves when they go through it. They often come to a deeper understanding of "what makes them tick," their needs, their values, their relationships, etc. They learn skills and tools which help them manage future struggles more efficiently. They learn acceptance and compassion.

And that, as Martha Stewart puts it, is a good thing.

An Ax to Grind, and a Suggestion: Our Mental Health System

I have an ax to grind with the mental health system in our country. I've long suspected that our mental health treatment systems are probably inefficient, but my views came into sharper focus over the past few years as I attended graduate school for social work, completed my internships, and, following graduation, gained employment as an outpatient substance abuse counselor -- a position which I have since relinquished.

To clarify: an inefficient system, to my way of thinking, is one that consistently fails to produce the outcomes it is purportedly designed to produce.

One thing that many people, and many organizations, have been really good at throughout American history is making money.

(dollar dollar sign, y'all, from Google Image serach)

Think about it: each of the products we all know and consume -- from McDonald's to automobiles to clothing to gasoline to TVs to music to computers to cell phones -- started with someone having an idea and creating processes by which to mass produce, market, distribute, and sell the manifestation of that idea for a profit.

Put another way, many people throughout history have made a lot of money because they turned their idea into a commodity, i.e., a sought-after, even needed, object. Consumers spend enormous sums on the products I listed above (and many others, of course); and, as many of us know, banks and lending institutions have expanded the availability of credit to consumers over the past 50, 60, 70 years, thus making it easier for us to spend even more on these products. Money flows out of consumers' pockets and trickles up, if you will, the organizational chain, with the result that lots of people -- not just executives making millions -- earn a good living.

I'm not here to criticize that model. It brings its problems, of course, but it's also brought a lot of good in terms of facilitating a better way of life for many people. No, the thing I want to underscore about that model, rather, is that it is a highly efficient system. Capitalism is explicitly about making money, and many systems created within the capitalist paradigm -- successful businesses -- have done a very good job of doing just that: making money. Like it or not, that's efficiency. Like it or not, it can teach us something here.

*********************************************************************************

When I got to grad school, and I learned more about the realities of mental health provision in our country, I found myself asking, "Why haven't we figured out a way to make our mental health systems efficient?"

An indicator of the systems' inefficiency, to me, is the abysmal pay, generally speaking, of mental health professionals. Having a systemically underpaid professional workforce creates numerous problems. For one, many mental health professionals find themselves needing a second job to make ends meet. Sadly, lots of folks do that these days, so it isn't unique, per se; but the issue is that an exhausted mental health worker is less likely to be an effective mental health worker -- which means, of course, the client suffers. Another issue here is that systemically low pay contributes to high rates of employee (therapist) turnover. After all, if you have a master's degree (or a doctorate, even), and you're working your ass off, but you aren't earning enough money to cover your expenses, you're probably going to seek other opportunities, right? And who suffers when there is high turnover among therapists? Again: clients.

Agencies also suffer when there's high employee turnover, actually. The process of recruiting, hiring, and training new employees is very expensive. It stands to reason, then, that if an already cash-strapped organization is hemorrhaging resources on employee turnover, there will be even fewer resources to allocate to other aspects of organizational upkeep; this, in turn, adversely affects the clients. Once again.

That, folks, is a horribly inefficient system. I'm going to go a step further and call it what I think it is: broken. It's ironic that a system which is supposedly intended to help people find a more satisfying equilibrium is itself so out of balance.

(from Google Images)

In many of my more entrepreneurial, ambitious moments, I've thought, "What we need to do, basically, is commoditize mental health services. We need to educate the public and our elected officials about the realities of mental health issues; i.e., that they aren't just about being "crazy" or not. We need to sell the public, and our elected officials, on the reality that having excellent mental health services is both vital and highly desirable (just like cell phones are highly desirable). Yes, we need to market and sell these ideas, because right now, mental health is erroneously seen as a liability -- something the government takes care of. We need to help folks realize it's a need, and see the benefit of having that need fulfilled; and once we do that, political and systemic changes will follow."

Admittedly, that's a rather innocent line of thinking, but I stand by the essence of it, because I think it's true. What occurred to me, though, is that this magical system is already in place in the mental health world. Who, or where, is it? It's the pharmaceutical industry, folks. The pharmaceutical industry has done an amazing job of turning mental health into a commodity, they really have. Feeling depressed? Take this pill. Having some psychotic tendencies? Take this other pill. Anxious? There's a pill for that, too. They have successfully raised awareness, via ad campaigns, about their products; and they have created the perception of need -- i.e., a market -- among the general public.

Listen, psychiatric medication is, or can be, an extremely important variable in the mental health equation. I support their provision when they are deemed clinically appropriate -- period. What I mean to illuminate, rather, is that the pharmaceutical industry, from a policy, process, and fiscal standpoint, is getting the lion's share of mental health resources in our country. I do not blame them for this, because they have only done what they were designed to do, after all: create a product, and sell it for a profit. Since they have done it well, they have been given the resources they need, politically speaking, to keep it up.

*********************************************************************************

It is my position that non-pharma mental health systems can take a cue from their pharmaceutical colleagues. I'm not suggesting that they seek to outright emulate the pharmaceutical industry, but I do think there are lessons to be learned there. I don't have the answers as to how those lessons should be learned or implemented, but I think it needs to happen.

I understand that many folks have negative feelings about the pharmaceutical industry for a variety of reasons; I also understand that many folks are very "down" on capitalism. My view is this: whether you're down on it or not, the bottom line, for now, is that it's the system in which we operate, and in the meantime, people who need help are not having their needs adequately met. To me, if taking cues from an already-existing, highly profitable industry model could help us fix our mental health system as a whole, then why wouldn't we do it?

Guilt

Guilt, like anger, is an experience I could discuss here in exhausting detail. I could write a freakin' dissertation on guilt, replete with footnotes and citations and agita. But since B is for both Blog and Brevity, I will do no such thing. Ahem.

As the byproduct of both the Catholic and Jewish traditions, I know a thing or two about guilt.

Okay, I'll stop now. While that was an entirely valid thing to say, it's a goofy way to kick off this post. It's Saturday, gimme a break! Okay, enough. Here goes:

To my way of thinking, guilt, like just about every human experience, is OK in and of itself. I think people often think of uncomfortable feelings like guilt as being "bad," but that just isn't so -- not intrinsically, anyway. (The labels we ascribe to experiences are incredibly powerful, and can obscure the true nature of the thing being labeled; guilt fits that bill, to be sure.) Furthermore, guilt can be an adaptive, healthy, and pro-social learning tool. If we didn't have guilt, we wouldn't have made it very far as a species, you know? After all, in a vacuum, if you do something that hurts another person and you feel guilty, the guilt is probably good, right? In that example, guilt lets you know, at a gut, instinctive level, that you've inflicted harm on another person, and should probably 1) make amends, and 2) do something different the next time you're in that situation, i.e.., learn from your misstep.

Like anything taken out of Moderation Station and into the Fiefdom of Extremes, though, too much guilt can be very harmful. We all know someone -- maybe even ourselves! -- who feels guilty about everything, down to the very fact they exist, it seems. (If you don't know what I'm talking about, follow the proverbial breadcrumb trail of constant apologies and you'll have arrived at your destination.)

Guilt as a habit, then, is not helpful. It's distracting, it obfuscates the point of the matter at hand, and it destroys one's self-confidence. Constantly apologizing for basically everything is also a rather self-absorbed practice, ironically. Think about it: when you apologize to someone, you probably do so with some expectation of a response, such as, "hey, no big deal -- don't worry about it." Apologizing when no apology is called for, then, basically amounts to nothing more than a cry for attention and validation (which, un-coincidentally, is a common by-product of low self-esteem). The ironic part is that apologies are generally seen as the mark of a considerate person -- so you can see how this is an especially tricky habit to unpack, yeah? It basically amounts to just a whole lot of pain wearing the mask of a sweet little lamb.

Let's take the mask off.

You might say, "This sucks, dude, and you're being kind of a jerk about it, but I'm willing to stick with it for now. So...what's the antidote? If I have low self-esteem, I can't just wave a magic wand and suddenly have confidence, right?" Well, right...sort of. In my experience, this is where it's helpful to recall there is a direct relationship between our feelings/perceptions and our overt behaviors. And sometimes we have to change our behaviors first before our feelings follow suit. In other words, I have found -- in myself and in others -- that making small shifts in behaviors, such as cutting down on apologizing, has greatly facilitated the expansion of my confidence.

Let's bring it back to guilt. If you're plagued by guilt, and you've identified it as something that's interfering with your happiness, well-being, and ability to move on with your life, try the following:

Step 1: Take an hour or two out of a random day in which you interact with other people. Take note -- without judgment -- of your apologies. Ask yourself, "Did I really need to apologize? Did I really offend the other person?" (Hint: The answers to those questions will almost always be "no." )

Step 2: You have now cultivated a burgeoning self-awareness around this unhelpful habit of yours, so it's time to try something different. In your next conversation, catch yourself whenever you're about to apologize, take a breath, don't apologize, and move on. (Hint: This is going to feel scary and uncomfortable.)

Step 3: Repeat step 2. Over and over and over again.

Here are a few closing thoughts, folks. In addition to improving your communication and increasing your self-confidence, this practice is going to help you 1) take greater ownership of your feelings, and 2) cultivate deeper, more authentic connections with other people. How so? You'll be freer to just be yourself, which will in turn enable others to get to know you for who you *actually* are, thus ensuring the people who stick around are more accepting of you in all your awesomeness. Most of the time, we don't offend other people -- but sometimes we do. And you know what? Who cares! Chances are good the other person or people will let you know if you've offended them. If and when they let you know, then you can apologize -- if you want to. And if you do apologize, it'll be an authentic apology, which the other party is then responsible for accepting or rejecting. Either way, you've dealt with it, together, and can move on. Life is weird, you guys, and human interaction can likewise be very weird and imprecise and confusing and whatnot. So just go with it! Let 'er rip -- be yourself. Everyone, including you, will be so much better off if you let yourself be yourself.

Enjoy the day!

Anger

(Image from Google Images search of "anger." Subtitle: "A Rant on Anger & Ranting: Robots Don't Rant" comedyrants.com)

I have some disjointed thoughts on anger that I'd like to share.

Anger can be a very useful experience. Most of the time, anger incites us to action; that is, when we get angry about something, we usually feel impulses and think thoughts that involve us doing something about the situation about which we are angry. So in that regard, anger is adaptive and normal, you know? After all, sometimes we need to feel all fired up about something that isn't working for us before we can do something to change it.

Anger can be a very destructive force. There's a saying that goes something like, "Anger is like a hot coal: the only person who gets hurt by it is the one who holds onto it." And that's true. Anger that isn't somehow released gets sublimated into any variety of negative, even destructive (as I said) experiences. One of the laws of physics and nature is that energy can be neither created nor destroyed. Similarly, buried anger (and buried emotions of any kind, for that matter) always find a way to the surface, whether it manifests as passive-aggressive behaviors, muddled thinking, or explosive, disproportional responses to frustrations, for example.

The habit of suppressing anger has a particularly destructive potential. Folks who don't know how to release their anger oftentimes exhibit frightening, abusive, or otherwise dysfunctional behavior. Such behavior can be directed outward to others, or inward toward themselves, and create all sorts of problems, issues, and heartache.

Anger is a powerful force, and is to be respected.

Anger, by my way of looking at it, is a "secondary emotion." That is, anger is usually an automatic response to an internal or external experience which leaves a person feeling powerless, vulnerable, helpless, confused, or sad. It is important to recognize and assume ownership of these more "primary" feelings, because they are usually the key to the anger's release.

More on this another time. Thanks for reading.

Link: Vague Notions (Web Comic Series)

Hello! You may have noticed that I've provided links in the sidebar to other sites I find useful, entertaining, or otherwise engaging. One of them, Vague Notions, is a great web comic I stumbled across a few months ago. In the author/illustrator's words, Vague Notions, "is a comic about depression, anxiety, and all that fun stuff!" It's content is honest and poignant, and often very, very funny. 

Check out this comic from January 31st, which includes the main character (sitting at a desk in a hoodie sweatshirt in the first panel), and the dual nemeses of what I refer to as anxiety (shouting at the main character in the first and second panels) and depression (whispering horrors to the character in the 3rd panel).

The comic is updated three times per week, and any visitor can look through the archives for free.

Enjoy!