2004-11-16 - 7:01 p.m.

reconstruction of the will

The last 24 hours have taught me a lot about what it means to be an overcomer. I’m not ready to go into the details of it now for reasons described forthwith. In fact it has been a while since I last wrote in here. Eleven days to be precise. Let’s get into it then.

The first half of this period I was mainly too depressed to write. Depressed isn’t quite the right word as it is used so frivolously among bloggers. Psychomotor retarded is more like it. Even that term doesn’t suffice. The best way I can describe it is that there comes to be now and then at the core of me a particular feeling. This feeling has its own texture and presence. It is the forewarning of pain, the memory of nausea without the actual signs of sickness, the temptation and desire to despair, to break down in tears. This feeling comes to me often without reason and (apparently) much more often than to most people.

This feeling came to me on Tuesday the 9th. I know now that I should have made more of an effort to fight it, but few people realise how hard it is to do so. My mum was present at this time and felt that the discomfort that this apparently caused her was my own fault and hence I deserved this terrible feeling. She continued to reinforce this point to me in bitter and sarcastic manners for the following few days. During this time I was either too weak or too lazy to fight this idea, let alone this feeling. And so I became what could loosely be described as depressed.

Then something changed. A jog, a swim, a talk with some caring friends, they all might have played their part… and I was able to persevere. To the extent that the word applies to the sheep of the human will, I ‘chose’ to be happy. I made an effort to enjoy my course, my friends, my exercise. I fought the feeling, with a fair bit of success.

Then last night. It was an offence, a skandalon that had to come. The person and details of it are not useful in overcoming it. The point is that it brought this awful feeling back in greater amounts than I have known at least in the last year or so. But more than that, somehow, for some reason, I now had an overwhelming desire to fight this feeling. It wasn’t just an intellectual discovery, that now I knew that I had to fight my depression to live. It was that my will now recognised this.

So from the moment I woke this morning, I had in mind to fight this feeling. And I was largely successful. Time will tell whether this new determination and attitude, this courage, not that I want to talk myself up, will last. I sincerely hope it does.

previous entry - following entry

gewerq.diaryland.com - an online diary. All original content © gewerq 2003-2005. All rights reserved.