Am I really just so ordinary?

Life as a perpetually depressed person really distorts your view of the world. Also your view of yourself, your self-concept.

As a not-depressed-person, it can be a lot to navigate. Especially when the story you told yourself about The Person I’ll Be When I’m Not Depressed is nothing like The Person I Am When I’m Not Depressed. It’s a little weird. Let me explain.

I bought a planner. I purchased it somewhere between not being depressed, and realizing I wasn’t depressed. Shipping took awhile, so it arrived after the realization. And I’ve been using it. Effectively. And it makes me happy: sticking stupid little stickers in my planner, and color-coding all the shit I’m going to do, am doing, have done.

And it’s kind of a lot like “what the fuck?” The Person I’ll Be When I’m Not Depressed was not the kind of person who used a planner. Not like this. And she certainly wasn’t going to get excited about it, or spend an embarrassing amount of money on stickers to do it. So what gives?

I once read somewhere that the depressed had a more accurate self-concept and view of the world. The brains of the depressed didn’t sugar coat the world for them in the ways the brains of the non-depressed do. I’m not sure how accurate that is, but I’m starting to think that’s kind of bullshit. Because I’m not depressed anymore, but I am acutely aware of just how ordinary I am.

And that ordinariness? It’s kind of depressing. Or perhaps more accurately: disappointing.

Maybe I’m still on the crawl upwards. It took what? 18 years to dig a hole so deep in my psyche that no sunshine ever found me. I have to assume it might take me a little time to get out of that hole than a few weeks. But at least I’m not going down any further. I’m climbing out of this bitch. And maybe I won’t be so ordinary when I get out.

Share your thoughts. Go on, do it.

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