I’ve decided to call this post, Baby steps. Why? Because that’s what I’m taking, little steps into an uncertain future. I just wish I had someone to hold my hand.
No more will I be taking giant steps of confidence as I march into a brighter future that I never reached. No, I am going to shuffle towards my fate. Like a blind person in an unfamiliar room, I’ll be gingerly feeling my way through the minefield of my mind.
The depression that I spoke of recently, I’ll link the post here, has lifted – slightly. No longer am I staring into the darkness anymore, but a thick grey mist with the Sun trying to burn its way through
” Baby steps count, as long as you are going forward. You add them all up, and one day you look back and you’ll be surprised at where you might get to. “
Chris Gardner.
I find it interesting when I consider my depression subjectively. I want to get better; I really do. No-one wants to feel the deadness of the Black Dog. But, as hard as I try, my mind holds me back. I want to improve, to get better, to stride into a glorious future. But that lump of grey matter in my skull prefers familiarity, even if it’s painful. Improvement is the great unknown, where greater pain may fall upon me, and my addled brain wants to stay where it knows. In the present greyness, hiding from an uncertain future.
Maybe it’s the primal part of our brain playing safe and controlling the more modern, logical side.
Disney in my head!
Like in that Disney Film, Inside Out, I imagine the conversation goes like this.
Old Brain, looking out at the grey mist, ‘I’m scared’
‘What of, there’s nothing to be afraid of?’ New Brain says with a shrug. ‘Come with me into the light.’
‘No, I know what it’s like here. I want to stay.’
‘But it’s horrible here. Come on, let’s go.’ New Brain says as he tries to pull Old Brain with it. Old Brain refuses to move.
‘No.’
New Brain sighs. It knew it couldn’t go alone as Old Brain was part of it. ‘Come on, old pal, think about how great life will be if we move towards the light. No more lurking in the darkness for us.’
‘But it might not, you know, be light.’ Old Brain replied stamping an imaginary foot in defiance. ‘No, I’m staying here. I know what it’s like here and I feel secure.’
New Brain frowned as it thought about all the possibilities for the future. Old Brain just didn’t understand. It only saw the now, not the future.
What does it mean?
And that’s my point, I think. If I want to improve, I am going to have to do it gradually so Old Brain does not realise what I’m doing until it sees the benefit of the new lifestyle.
What is this new, old brain tricking, lifestyle going to be.
I really don’t know as my mind is still healing from the last month or so. What I do know is that it will need to be in steps, baby ones.
Step one is getting organised. I’ve bought a Diary and a Traveller’s Notebook from thejournalshop.com and am starting to use them. Plotting what I want to do and when I want to do it. I must admit that it is not easy. Concentrating on a complex task is using my mental energy quicker than an electric car drains its battery in Winter! Planning is complex.
So, I’m breaking it into steps like I would with a project. That’s where the baby steps comes in.
First, listing my high-level objectives – Organise work, get fit etc. Then breaking them down into steps – baby steps. Easy to achieve packets of activity. Then, as I complete them, congratulating myself on a great achievement. Even though I know that my rational side will laugh at the simplicity of the tasks, the emotional side will be proud. You see, when you are broken into pieces, each one you put back into place makes a difference. That’s what depression does to your soul. It shatters you like glass hitting concrete from a great height.
I’ve achieved the first step – buying the notebooks and listing my main objectives. I’ll be honest, I had a good rest after doing that. It took days of procrastination and dithering to order them.
I’m slowly building my list of objectives, breaking them down into little, simple to achieve packets of work. I know I’ve been here before, but I want this time to be the last which is why I am taking my time. In fifteen-minute chunks, thanks to my pomodoro timer.
I do not want to go into too much detail here as to what I am planning as that’ll be a topic for another blog. Also, if I fail – again – I don’t want the world to know.
Life does not stop because I am depressed. It carries on regardless of illness. So, added to the depression is the worry that I am letting my life slide.
I hope that breaking the insurmountable mountains of work into small hills will make them easier to climb. Also, I think that worry fuels my depression and knowing I have some control will, I hope, help me.
Also, on the home front, we have a new puppy. He’s called Ted.
Until next time, take care.
Steve