Sunday, 16 September 2012

A Change of scenery to change my life, AGAIN

Over the years, I have needed a change of scenery every now and again. A new place, I thought, a new start. That is what I need. Once I get away from my current environment, everything is going to be ok. I will be happy. And I have turned my life upside down, moved away from the city, turned everything upside down again to study abroad... and it makes no difference.

Sure, for a while, things seem a bit brighter. Anything that breaks the routine - which is why I don't tend to get too depressed when my boyfriend's around. The one thing I have realized, though, is that I can change everything around me and it will make no difference, because the one thing that doesn't change - the one thing I really need to change - is myself.

I have a fairly impressive ability to be miserable, wherever I am, whatever I do. Have my own horse? Miserable. Following my dreams to study art abroad? Please. Absolutely, completely and utterly miserable. In a house with other people? Too crowded. On my own? Lonely.

Frankly, I'm tired of dragging my miserable old self around everywhere. Without my personality, life would be great. Imagine feeling awake. Imagine feeling passionate about something. Imagine happiness. Excitement. I think I felt that once. Maybe twice. I'm not sure. Doesn't happen a lot anyway. I've always been a bit on the gloomy side. As a teenager, I almost saw a psychologist once, but apparently I wasn't suicidal enough for further treatment. Which is good right?

Recently, my absolute favourite thing to do is going on the back of my boyfriend's motorbike. That is absolutely thrilling. I know if we crash, I'll probably die (since I got some proper equipment that might be more 'seriously injured' than 'dead' but shush). There's something about facing the possibility of death that makes me feel alive. It is unsettling that I don't seem the least bit afraid though. Let's hope that's because I trust my man blindly and feel confident we won't crash. Not, you know, the death drive that I never got properly into while skimming the surface of Freudian psychoanalysis so I can't really say what it's about, other than quoting wikipedia:
 In classical Freudian psychoanalytic theory, the death drive(s)[1] (Todestrieb[e])[1] is the drive towards death, self-destruction and the return to the inorganic: 'the hypothesis of a death instinct, the task of which is to lead organic life back into the inanimate state'.[2] 
Some seem to think the solution is ridiculously simple. Snap out of it. Stop being so miserable. Think happy thoughts, look on the bright side. Well, if it really is that simple, I must be enjoying my depressions on some level, because I somehow can't seem to do that. I know life would be easier and more enjoyable if I wasn't miserable all the time, believe me. It's just not that easy to rid yourself of thought patterns you have been stuck in for years, and trying to control your feelings, well... Personally, I have never managed to do that. I can control my actions, most of the time, but not my feelings. Just because I don't lash out and kill someone doesn't mean I'm not angry. Just an example.

The truth is, I should probably seek some help to deal with this. Another attempt at seeing a psychologist, talk to someone, maybe learn some positive thinking. What's stopping me? Well I'm not terribly good at asking for help. And I wasn't too impressed with the psychologist the last time around. It felt a bit like... acting. Lean forward. look at patient. "uh-huh... and how do you feel about that?" nod. nod. look thoughtful "why do you think that is?" Perhaps I was just unlucky, or maybe my teenage self found the falseness of the approach - the appearance of pretending to be interested, because he is paid to pretend to be interested - too distasteful. Maybe my adult self would cope better. Maybe it's time to dive into some self-help books.

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