So.. when I was five I was hit by a van.
The scar starts at the right side my temple and creates some kind of C like formation on my scalp. I remember being able to actually feel the wound and having skin flap over my hand (that’s when I started to cry cos I was a tough post-toddler..How tough? I told my mom to stop crying in the ambulance.)
I don’t consider what happened to me as being actual head trauma because I’m not dead and my GPA is pretty good. A good friend decided to mess with me (love you d-caf) by suggesting that I act how I act because of the accident. I’m in a weird predicament because when you’re only five, you’ve not had a lot of time to develop into anything..so I don’t recall how I changed post accident.
I can’t really rely on my family to say whether or not I changed because in the 80’s, parents gave lesser shits about their kids and my siblings were probably already actively ignoring me.
So now I’m stuck wondering if getting hit by a car was the best thing that ever happened to me or the second best thing that ever happened to me?
I often think about how I would be if I didn’t live in Kamloops anymore and if I would be the same kind of person. In my wildest fantasies, I would be considered a far more cerebral person discussing important subjects at great length while keeping comedy to a minimum.
I’ve failed nearly every chance to “just be,” because I’m just more comfortable performing for people. There is a wonderful sense of control to be in front of one or 1000 people being the one guy everyone is paying attention to. Moment of honesty? I often get horrible anxiety while being out in public spaces. I just want to wear headphones and buy my groceries and go home rather than engage in idle chat…I feel weird about it and it has nothing to do with the other person.
Another moment of honesty?
I’ve found myself stuck in the grips of depression for a long time.
It’s not a strange thing to feel because I know many of us feel the same way and we’re just not used to talking about it.
There are so many contradictions with depression and just overall mental health issues. I am anxious to go out and just be, but when I do go out, I can’t help but try to be entertaining. I’ll be in the WORST mood while shopping or something and still try to be funny/kind to people around me. What I love about posting these entries is the ability for others to point out times I’ve not been kind.
This post isn’t about that.
Why can’t we just always be able to express how we feel? What the hell is so wrong with saying “I fucking hate when you do that bullshit asshole.” Wouldn’t it be great if that person could say, “yeah? Well I hate when you do this!?” It’s like we’re so afraid of conflict that we just let the strangest shit happen all around us.
Conflict happens and things blow over. How do I know this? I’m the youngest of four kids. Trust me..people get over shit.
I’m not entirely sure what this post is about anymore, but I told myself to free write today this way rather than a word document that gets deleted.
Back to the topic of depression, I’m not sure if people realize how feeling depressed becomes a “normal” pattern and you start to think that the ideas that are happening in the depressed state are perfectly reasonable. I can’t speak for anyone else because I don’t speak to many people about my own depression, but months afterwards you start to feel bad again because you ask yourself “what was I thinking?”
The cycle can get exhausting.
There is a strange paradox being a depressed person and known to be entertaining. Complete strangers share with me the most intimate of details because they saw me beaming about my gran, mom, niece of nephew on CFJC. You want to show empathy and sympathy for their issues, but maintain a firewall to be sure not to get caught up in other people’s problems (yeah you know me!)
I don’t know if I’m unable to discuss my depression issues because of the following reasons:
1. Trite responses like “awww hun.”
2. Giving that person something to use against me one day for whatever reason.
3. Knowing that if I share my problems with someone..they’re SO prepared to share their problems with me.
4. I grew up in a family full of people who would just rather not talk about anything too personal.
Don’t get me wrong, I want to be there for my friends and support them when they need me. I may share a personal story with them to let them know I understand where their coming from, but more and more these days, I’m noticing that when people start to share their problems, it becomes a contest to see who is worse off.
I don’t know if my frequent-ish depression issues stem from my environment or one of these “chemical imbalances” we hear about now and again. I read an article from The Walrus:
“I said I’d had a difficult period with some colleagues and had found it hard to control my emotions, to which she [Joni Mitchell] said, ‘Why the hell would you want to do that?’ For an artist like Joni, the whole point is to be completely in touch with the volatility of emotions.” Stevie Wonder once told him that “he often couldn’t finish a take, because he’d be on the verge of tears. I don’t think that’s a bad thing.” Artists offer consolation, Levitin says. “It’s like you’ve been cut off from your emotions, and suddenly there’s another person feeling what you want to feel. They’re on the cliff edge with you, and, more than that, they’ve taken their despair and turned it into a beautiful piece of art. It’s inspiring.”
Should I just accept that I’ve always been who I’ve been and stop living up to expectations I’ve created for people who know me? Should I just be more comfortable to say to people, “Hey, I’m having a me day..thanks.”?
Or has the past 29 years been a flash forward for the little boy who was just hit by a car and is laying on a gurney at RIH?
I guess what I’m saying is…. I don’t know if my accident affected my brain and I don’t want to know.
I thought I’d write this profoundly personal blog entry but I’ve been trained to self censor ever since I was eight.
For what it’s worth..if you’re a quiet person dealing with depression and we’ve met….I just want you to know..that I know where you’re coming from and it’s why I try and hug as many of my friends as possible when I see them.
We’re all we have on this ever-shifting mass called Earth.
p.s. Remember earlier when mentioned if I thought being hit by a car was the best thing to happen to me or the second best thing to happen to me? I think the other best thing to happen to me was to be able to finally accept that I am a person that deals with depression.
It’s like I’ve come out all over again!
I hope I experience the same level of weight loss as I did when I told people I was a gay.