Defense of the Depression

Here are three seemingly random truths about me;

  1. I have not cried since 2003. My eyes well up, all the emotion comes up in my throat to choke me, but to be completely honest I’ve never released any reasonably uncontrolled emotion since 2003.
  2. I hate to play Defense of the Ancients (DotA) with my friends, because I am horrible at it and everyone will scream jeers at me from across the room.

    Looks like the kind of game that people would be screaming across a room about, right? If you said no, you haven’t played it. (Screenshot courtesy Shh-Mom)

  3. I recently scored 38 in an exam meant to measure symptoms of depression. Anything over 24 is considered severe, and people who score that high are advised to seek professional help.

There are a lot of things that not a great people know about me. I am insanely predictable, which maybe some people can’t fathom since I’m always the friend that does or says the crazy things. I hate it when people say I’m predictable, so I accept almost any challenge that someone puts in my face. I constructed myself as an annoyingly proud person, and hate when people post my flaws. Some people call me an asshole because I’ve very emotionally unresponsive at times. I don’t get overexcited or express bouts of anger like my brother does. I usually have this one emotion; a sly, all-knowing smile, mouth slightly open to conveniently allow my tongue to rattle off useless trivia about whatever conversation’s taking place. And all that is the exact same as point #2.

Some of you are asking why DotA is important here. It absolutely is. I can’t at all play the game, because the friends I know that play it are quick to embarrass you for a bad play or tear you apart for not helping them out. The idea of playing a game with those guys, or anyone else, is pretty horrible for me. The very first time I played, it was at an old internet cafe at almost 8PM, with a bunch of old men telling me how my mother made me because I was a noob and kept casting spells wrong. For a long time I would secretly play on my own at home, but only watch my friends play if I was with them. When I finally did take a chance and start playing with a few of them, I would put headphones in my ears and listen to the loudest thing I had on my mp3 player, so I couldn’t hear what people were saying about me.

A lot of my entire being is like that. I’m so talkative and always have something to say because I think people will see value in me knowing things and always being right. I am always eager to help people mostly because I hate to see people as unhappy as I sometimes am, but partly because I think there’s value in me being there and that people would also want to be there with me. I am so proud and stubborn so that people don’t get a chance to pick at my flaws. I place so much emphasis on self-control so that I don’t do something embarrassing or that makes me vulnerable. I think before I speak so my words do exactly what I want them to without revealing what I’m really thinking or feeling. I think before I act, so no one can glean too much from the things I do and who I do it for. And I wear my signature sly smile so no one knows how I truly feel about things.

This is the closest pic I have to that sly smile. I never said it was a particularly good smile.

Things like feeling like I’ve become less human since my grandmother passed away in 2003. Like remembering the first time my mother yelled at me and made me feel stupid, over a comment I made about gum in primary school. Like having genuine anger issues and sometimes daydreaming about hurting people. Like have suicidal ideation because I didn’t feel like God would love a person like me. Like caring about someone so much that I’m always nervous about that person no matter how many times I’ve held them close to me. Like feeling like all my friends only appreciate Fun Me/ Argumentative Me/ Counselor Me/ Conversationalist Me, and eventually want nothing to do with the Real Me. The one that begins to trust people and reveal emotions and can’t wear those other masks anymore because he’s too busy feeling.

All of this has been running through my head for the past weeks to a month. And, for most of it, I was doing a decent job of keeping that sly smile on. But since about last week, none of the masks fit. Or I don’t fit. I’ve been thinking about the fact that I have no family that I can talk to, only one friend that’s been through it all, and lost the person in my life that I thought could handle Real Me. And, much like I don’t feel like I can play video games because of the jeering voices around me, I feel like I can’t do anything else without the constant surrounding reminders that I’m not the kind of person that anyone wants on their team.

So here’s another fact;

  1. I haven’t cried since 2003. But I kinda feel like crying these days…

One thought on “Defense of the Depression

  1. Those of us who are your real friends won’t think less of you if you cry. I actually think it would be healthier for you (and I’ve done a hell of a lot of crying this past year, so I know). If you want to, cry alone. If you need a shoulder to cry on, there’s one here, no strings attached. But as I told you the other day, get it out before it takes you over.

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