One of the things that I can’t stand to think about is just how debilitating Depression is and how it literally changes one’s view of the world.

I don’t remember when I ever felt so low, so helpless, so frustrated at life and what it’s dealt me. One of the reasons I stopped watching television completely is that I can’t tolerate watching human beings attack and injure one another needlessly. The same goes for horror flicks. I attribute my depression to an early upbringing of daily news broadcasts and gratiuitous violence on the film screen…I was brought up well, can’t you tell?

Why is there so much damned violence in this world is beyond my understanding. What is so entertaining about it? I understand that violence is part of civilization: it always has been, but why on earth do we need to glorify violence & death and put them on a pedestal? Oh yes, I am also afraid of death…not death per se, just the process of getting there.  I blame the media for my depression. I also blame members of my family for ingraining fear in my life. No one needs to feel fear 24/7 and that  is how I felt every day of my existence. No wonder I turned out so ‘normal’. I am a borderline Agoraphobic and the prospect of going on a freeway/highway any given day scares the bejesus out of me.

I am a firm believer that we are the product of our environment. If I was brought up in a peaceful place and culture where there was no violence, no hatred, no biogtry and the like, I wouldn’t have this debilitating feeling of being scared all the time.

In one of my earlier blogs, I discussed not ever wanting to be alone. I think that particular fear is an aspect that manifested either in my childhood, in my dreams as I lay asleep (a manufactured place), or both.  To this day, I have unexplainable, neurotic dreams and I hate it when I am alone or deserted, even in my dreams. Now isn’t that something? How or why a manufactured concept like a dream could cause a person to break down and cry,  feel loveless and abandoned, is something to talk about for hours on end. I wish someone COULD write a book about this.

I also hate it when people I love or have loved gang up against me like I am some sort of deviant and persecute me because I am a nice person with a medical illness. It’s called Depression. Wake up people and get a clue, why don’t you?! Maybe we should switch places and you should try it sometime!

My therapist says that my Depression is part clinical, part environmental. I think that she is completely right…