Those who are chronically depressed seem to have a life that’s just about coping- from day to day to year to year. It gets heavy and repetitive.
I want to be rid of depression and just be happy for once, but it seems like there’s a perpetual fog, full of thunderous clouds, striking me at all places, at all times, lest I be happy and carefree.
Those who manage to not be sad all the time inevitably wind up in the cycle of sad–>depression–>okay–>managing–>sad again–>depressed again–>okay for a moment–> and continues on like this for years/decades.
I feel like we are Sisyphus- perpetually rolling a rock up a hill, only to have it roll back down and to roll it back up again. And repeat for a lifetime. Or an eternity.
Will we ever be free of depressions’ shackles?
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Depression for me is like cognitive quicksand.
I make my own depression through my pessimism and negativity. Chemicals shmemicals. I think myself into depression. That is how my brain is wired, and I’ll be taking it to the grave with me, so for me, it’s all about coping. Twenty five plus years now of trying to interpret life’s events differently aren’t working for me, so depression is my constant companion.
I can relate to this. I think you expressed it perfectly “a life that’s just about coping”. I feel a sense of frustration and fatigue because that is the story of my life: “coping”. I have a crisis, then get through it. Then, if I’m lucky, I have a spell of lukewarm mediocrity followed by another crisis.
Yes, I know how to use the “tools” and I’ve drafted enough “safety plans” to fill a library. So yay for me! I can take it one hour a time and survive. But all I ever manage to achieve is bare survival.