So today, in a fit of nostalgia, I watched this Radiohead music video for the song "No Surprises" and I started to reflect on said nostalgia. You see, "No Surprises" is on a list I have for myself of songs I love that I cannot listen to too much or one after another. Pretty much all of these songs deal with death and A LOT deal with suicide. This is because I have a bad habit of letting myself get into moping loops where I just obsessively watch these things that put dark, dangerous thoughts into my head. It's one of the self-monitoring habits I've developed to deal with my depression.
One of the hard things about mental health problems is this urge to compare yourself. Who's suffering the most? Who has the best reason for their suffering? Should I have the right to be sad? I overthink things, so this sort of stuff pops up a lot. It's really useless though, I think, because all that matters is that you are suffering in a way that interferes with your life. We shouldn't have to justify our pain. We shouldn't let our psyches be in constant warfare with others.
I think I have coped better than some people do, and a lot of this is just luck. For one, I was lucky that I got the dumb idea in my head that teenage suicide was 'cliche'. I was a tiny hipster. I also secretly suspected that if I killed myself as I was everyone would think "well, that was expected" or "of course, she'd do that". A really sick part of myself wanted to surprise people. And a sad part, I suppose, just wanted to have time to accomplish something to leave behind. I planned, of course. I spent class time sometimes trying to figure out the most foolproof and painless way to kill myself. I had rankings. I debated about what would be the best age to die. I made up ways to make sure any pets I had would be taken care of without making friends suspicious. But not right now, I thought. In a few years. Which really saved me.
The second time I was lucky was when I thought I might have worms (really) and went to the health center for this. There was some perfunctory checklist of random sentences including "I sometimes think about killing myself" which I, being a very honest person, checked without thinking about repercussions. The doctor looked at it and referred me to the counseling center, which I am very grateful for.
The third thing I am lucky in is more of a sort of quirk of my personality that makes it easier to handle my depression. My overthinking things drives me crazy and contributes to my stress and my depression, but at the same time it gives me enough self-awareness that I can monitor my mood and set myself rules that help me stay on my medication and get to therapy, etc. It does help, though.
I am not really sure if I'll ever be able to *get rid* of my depression. Time will have to tell. Even with it in check, it does distinguish me from others in some odd little ways, such as my danger-song list and some other ways I might write about later. This is a rather appropriate essay right before the holiday. Thoughts? Similar experiences? This is my first time writing, so I will have to navigate the Gawker system. I might write some more though.
And if you watched the video and are feeling down or sad, here are some puppies: .