At least a couple of years ago I first read a chapter called “The Resistance Syndrome: When Resisting Is More Important Than Loving” in the book Do I Have to Give Up Me to Be Loved by God? by Margaret Paul, Ph.D. I remember at the time feeling rocked by it, experiencing at a deep level that I had found the explanation for why so many things haven’t worked well in my life. I was excited to have discovered what seemed to be a key to my liberation.
I promptly forgot about it.
I guess I wasn’t ready for it yet. Well, the truth is that I was embroiled in a drama in life (my former relationship) that could have been used as an example in the chapter. I was desperately in resistance and wasn’t ready to step out of it. So, I forgot – which, no surprise, is one of the common things people in resistance do.
Lately I’ve been asking God and all my spiritual helpers for awakening regarding becoming liberated and releasing all those patterns that I’ve felt so stuck in – disappointment in relationship, financial lack, under-fulfilled potential, frustration with work, major health issues, never being happy with my home, recurring depression, chronic procrastination, and a general dissatisfaction with my life.
And I’ve been receiving answers. I know I always will when I ask and then pay attention. That’s the way the spiritual world works. God’s representatives – my angels, guides, and teachers – are eager to give me all I need to become liberated, to spiritually awaken, and to have a magnificent life. They can hardly wait for me to listen. They’re ever-present and trying to get through to me all the time in ways too numerous to count.
So, lately I’ve been paying attention. I am ready to change my life. All those spiritual helpers are cheering.
“Read,” I was told. I walked over and opened one of my boxes of books. Do I Have to Give Up Me to Be Loved by God? was right on top. “That one,” they told me. “OK,” I said, not resisting. (See, I knew I could do it.)
It took me a few days to get to the chapter on resistance again. When I did, though, I had the same reaction I had experienced the first time I read it. I knew I had found something important for me. No, not just something important – something crucial.
Here’s a brief explanation of the Resistance Syndrome. I'll write more about it in my coaching blog, The Heart of the Matter (which I’ve been largely ignoring for some time).
Those of us who grew up with controlling and/or engulfing parents (like mine) may make a powerful choice to resist them in some significant way. That choice may then be generalized to anyone or anything we perceive as being controlling or engulfing (and we tend to be exceptionally broad in defining controlling and engulfing). Eventually we go on automatic pilot about that resistance.
The really pernicious part of it is that we are so on auto pilot about it that we even resist the people and things that we know are in our best interests. We even resist the part of ourselves that is trying to change our lives. We even resist God. It feels as if not letting anyone or anything else “win over us” is a life or death matter.
So, for example, when I get into a relationship, I tend to find someone who will try to control me and then resist her. If she isn’t really trying to control, I tend to misperceive her as doing so and resist her. As you might imagine, that detracts more than a little from the potential wonder of the relationship. And, I admit, much to my chagrin, that this is exactly the dynamic I had with A. At this point I honestly can’t tell you for sure whether she was trying to control me or not. All I can say for sure is that it appeared that way to me. It’s possible that it was all my misperception. Maybe I’d think any woman I was in relationship with was trying to control me.
Here’s another example: I’ve been working on prosperity for many years. I’ve taken many classes and workshops. I’ve taken 4T’s something like 8 times and also practically every other prosperity program that has come along. I’ve read nearly every book ever written about prosperity. Nothing has worked to make a significant difference in my prosperity. And there’s some part of me that feels an adolescent glee and pride about none of those things working on me. (Notice “on,” not “for.”) I “won.” I defeated the attempts to change me. And no matter what I do to rid myself of it, I still hold onto a consciousness that prosperity is evil in some way.
Briefly, here are the 6 symptoms Margaret Paul tells us characterize the Resistance Syndrome. She says that most people who are suffering with it will identify with at least 3 of them.
1. Being stuck. No matter what we do, nothing helps to make our lives better.
2. Having had controlling parents.
3. Wanting to change, but not taking consistent meaningful action.
4. Denying our real motivation. Being in denial that avoiding being controlled is more important to us than are love, happiness, success, etc.
5. Resenting the goal, maybe even judging it as unworthy.
6. Getting satisfaction out of others’ frustration with us. Feeling like a rebellious adolescent who is winning the power struggle with his or her parents.
I identify with all 6 of the symptoms. If you’ve been reading my messages for a while, maybe you’ve seen them in what I’ve written. Perhaps I'll write later about each of the areas in which I feel stuck and say more about how the symptoms appear in those parts of my life.
The good news is that there is a way out. Margaret suggests 4 steps for us to disentangle ourselves from the Resistance Syndrome.
1. Notice that resistance is a choice, and notice ourselves making that choice. Don’t try to change it. Just observe it, and then consciously choose to resist (choose what we’re already doing).
2. Notice the consequences of that choice.
3. Make a new choice. Choose to make becoming a loving person more important than whether or not we’re being controlled. Allow ourselves to be controlled, if that’s what has to happen. The irony, she suggests, is that when we give up resisting being controlled, we never actually get controlled.
4. Use Inner Bonding (a fabulous process she teaches) to release false beliefs, to adopt supportive beliefs, and to receive God’s guidance. Then, of course, follow that guidance.
I'm feeling hopeful. And I already have begun observing myself resisting and choosing to resist. I'm on my way.
So, I may become a bit of a pain in the nether parts about noticing anything that seems like control to me and choosing to resist it, even if the people are trying to help. Or, maybe you won’t even know I'm doing it. But, in case you do, I apologize in advance.
Here are some things I notice myself resisting: advice (maybe that should be capitalized since I resist it so much), being told things I already know, patronizing tones of voice (or writing), demands, goals, good ideas, punishment, superior attitudes, manipulation, anger, authority, lectures, force, and being told what to do. As I look back in life, I see so much resistance to some of those things. I suspect there will be more things I resist to add to the list. That gives me a place to start, though.
If any of you happens to want to bypass my resistance, here’s what works as much as anything will:
1. Talk to me as my equal.
2. Tell me about your experience and what works for you instead of telling me what to do (as all 12-steppers know).
3. Ask me if I want feedback or suggestions before you give them to me. This only applies to feedback that I might not like, but to all suggestions. I'll try to remember to explicitly state if I'm open to feedback and suggestions.
4. Assume I already know what you’re going to tell me and say that you’re just reminding me of it.
5. Don’t approach me in anger. Calm down first.
6. …. I'll think of more, I'm sure.
Eventually, when I’ve broken out of the Resistance Syndrome, people won’t need to be so careful with me. For now, though, all you’ll get is resistance if you aren’t careful. (If you’re stuck in the Resistance Syndrome yourself, you’ll probably feel resistant to these things and may want to stick them in my face. There’s one of those frequent dynamics in my relationship with A. I really need to apologize to her for being so in resistance to her.)
Want to know something that I find fascinating and more than a little synchronistic, given that the Resistance Syndrome was such a problem for me in my relationship with A? The second evening I knew A. in person I took her to an evening workshop with Margaret Paul. Months later I took her to another one. But by then she was in her own resistance to it. Do you think my spiritual helpers were telling me something?
OK, I'm wondering if anyone else identifies with this. Surely I'm not the only one. Or, am I?
Namaste,
Michael
Saturday, March 04, 2006
Monday, February 27, 2006
On several hands
When I first thought of writing this, I was only aware of 2 hands. Now, as I write this sentence, I’ve become aware of 3 more. Who knows how many I'll be aware of by the time I finish.
“Hands?” you ask. “What are you talking about?”
You know. On one hand, this is true. On the other hand, that is true. Well, I now have 5 hands. I guess I'm some sort of human octopus. Either that or else I'm borrowing some of your hands. I'm avoiding saying anything about being handy.
And what do I have all these hands about? Antoinette. Or, more accurately, my relationship with Antoinette. Or, even still more accurately, my former relationship with Antoinette.
I shall elaborate. (And it’s grown to 6 hands in the space of these few lines.)
Hand 1: I love Antoinette, and I'm grieving for her and for our relationship. I miss her and all the wonderful things we had together – experiences, eating together, supporting each other through stressful times, rituals, shared “kids,” plans for the future, and so much more. I feel so sad that it didn’t work out as we both hoped it would. We were so thrilled to meet and get involved. I remember how excited I was the day she arrived in Santa Fe when she moved here. I nearly flew over to see her. There are so many special memories. No matter what, I'll always love her – though the form of that love may change.
Hand 2: We’re so different – different values, different backgrounds, different beliefs. We just couldn’t work as a couple. I don’t really want to be back together as a couple because we’ve demonstrated that we can’t live together happily. I just want to be friends.
Hand 3: If we both agreed to go into counseling together and to make genuine efforts to work out solutions without either of us having to give up who we really are or having to lose, I would try it.
(It’s up to 8 hands now.)
Hand 4: Even if we did try that, I can’t imagine how we could ever resolve our differences without one or both of us sacrificing what’s important to us about ourselves. We are SO different.
Hand 5: I hate not having a romantic partner, and I'm very lonely. She was a woman who paid attention to me, who wanted to be with me, who cared about me, who shared wonderful experiences with me. How many women are there in the world who I might be able to say those things about? How can I let her go?
(Up to 9 hands.)
Hand 6: I know that I need to heal my hate for being alone before I'm really ready for the right relationship for me.
(10 hands.)
Hand 7: I'm angry at her for some of the things she said and did. No, I won’t elaborate.
Hand 8: I know that she was right about some of the things she said. I do have some things to work out before I'm ready for that right relationship.
(11 hands.)
Hand 9: I believed that our relationship was spiritually right, spiritually destined. I think we both believed that at one time. Maybe it was. Maybe it still is.
Hand 10: Maybe we’ve completed what we were supposed to do and to learn together. Maybe the spiritual appropriateness of our relationship once was, but has ended. Maybe there’s some good reason for us not to be together any longer. Maybe there’s a lot for me to learn. Maybe there’s someone else I'm supposed to connect with. Maybe the same is true for her.
Hand 11: Antoinette contributed so much to me that I am enormously grateful for. How can I not have the chance to give back?
And parts of me espouse all 11 of those hands. And, what’s more, I hold them all at once. For example, I want to be back with her and don’t want to be back with her and just want us to be friends all simultaneously. What doesn’t waver at all is that I still want her in my life in some way.
I'm not very good at leaving relationships. Can you tell? It tears my heart up. I miss her so much. I don’t even like to see other people break up. I’ve been known to grieve for other people’s lost relationships sometimes.
What does my guidance say? What’s really spiritually right? More about that later.
Namaste,
Michael
“Hands?” you ask. “What are you talking about?”
You know. On one hand, this is true. On the other hand, that is true. Well, I now have 5 hands. I guess I'm some sort of human octopus. Either that or else I'm borrowing some of your hands. I'm avoiding saying anything about being handy.
And what do I have all these hands about? Antoinette. Or, more accurately, my relationship with Antoinette. Or, even still more accurately, my former relationship with Antoinette.
I shall elaborate. (And it’s grown to 6 hands in the space of these few lines.)
Hand 1: I love Antoinette, and I'm grieving for her and for our relationship. I miss her and all the wonderful things we had together – experiences, eating together, supporting each other through stressful times, rituals, shared “kids,” plans for the future, and so much more. I feel so sad that it didn’t work out as we both hoped it would. We were so thrilled to meet and get involved. I remember how excited I was the day she arrived in Santa Fe when she moved here. I nearly flew over to see her. There are so many special memories. No matter what, I'll always love her – though the form of that love may change.
Hand 2: We’re so different – different values, different backgrounds, different beliefs. We just couldn’t work as a couple. I don’t really want to be back together as a couple because we’ve demonstrated that we can’t live together happily. I just want to be friends.
Hand 3: If we both agreed to go into counseling together and to make genuine efforts to work out solutions without either of us having to give up who we really are or having to lose, I would try it.
(It’s up to 8 hands now.)
Hand 4: Even if we did try that, I can’t imagine how we could ever resolve our differences without one or both of us sacrificing what’s important to us about ourselves. We are SO different.
Hand 5: I hate not having a romantic partner, and I'm very lonely. She was a woman who paid attention to me, who wanted to be with me, who cared about me, who shared wonderful experiences with me. How many women are there in the world who I might be able to say those things about? How can I let her go?
(Up to 9 hands.)
Hand 6: I know that I need to heal my hate for being alone before I'm really ready for the right relationship for me.
(10 hands.)
Hand 7: I'm angry at her for some of the things she said and did. No, I won’t elaborate.
Hand 8: I know that she was right about some of the things she said. I do have some things to work out before I'm ready for that right relationship.
(11 hands.)
Hand 9: I believed that our relationship was spiritually right, spiritually destined. I think we both believed that at one time. Maybe it was. Maybe it still is.
Hand 10: Maybe we’ve completed what we were supposed to do and to learn together. Maybe the spiritual appropriateness of our relationship once was, but has ended. Maybe there’s some good reason for us not to be together any longer. Maybe there’s a lot for me to learn. Maybe there’s someone else I'm supposed to connect with. Maybe the same is true for her.
Hand 11: Antoinette contributed so much to me that I am enormously grateful for. How can I not have the chance to give back?
And parts of me espouse all 11 of those hands. And, what’s more, I hold them all at once. For example, I want to be back with her and don’t want to be back with her and just want us to be friends all simultaneously. What doesn’t waver at all is that I still want her in my life in some way.
I'm not very good at leaving relationships. Can you tell? It tears my heart up. I miss her so much. I don’t even like to see other people break up. I’ve been known to grieve for other people’s lost relationships sometimes.
What does my guidance say? What’s really spiritually right? More about that later.
Namaste,
Michael
Sunday, February 26, 2006
Tired of it
I'm tired of it. Or, maybe, it's tiring me out. Or, maybe, being tired is causing it (at least in part).
I've written recently about being depressed. If you've been reading these messages, you probably remember. I have to do something about it. Enough. I'm tired of it.
Most of the time it's "just" an underlying foundation of feeling a little down, a little gray. I don't feel the joy in living that I aspire to. Oh, occasionally I have some highs, but they're situational and don't last long. It's usually hard for me to imagine that most other people don't feel a little down most of the time, too.
But, every once in awhile, I fall into a pit. Then I feel really depressed. I have trouble sleeping when I want to (usually waking up about 4 in the morning and not being able to fall back asleep). Consequently, I feel tired all the time and tend to want to sleep when it isn't appropriate. I lack energy and can't motivate myself to do anything of value – anything I know I need to do. I feel lots of fear and just want to hide out from anything that might be at all stressful. When I can summon the energy, I try to climb out of the pit, but keep slipping and falling back in. I keep thinking (oddly enough to me), "I want to go home." What's that all about? I don't know what I mean by home. It just arises from somewhere deep within. And I keep on keeping on until somehow I finally find my way out of the pit – usually seemingly magically and apparently not as a result of anything I've done intentionally.
How long does it last? Sometimes hours. Sometimes days. Sometimes weeks. So far, for me, never longer than that. Then, pop! Somehow I'm out of the pit and back to a better place for hours or days or weeks or months or even years. Sometimes I go to sleep in the pit and wake up out of it. Sometimes it just happens in the middle of the day, for no apparent reason.
Same with becoming more deeply depressed. "Falling in a pit" is an apt description because it usually just happens suddenly, just like falling into a pit. Just as one example, I was at a meeting last week, and for the first few minutes of the meeting I was fine. Then, all of a sudden, for no apparent reason, I fell, and I was really down for the rest of the evening.
What sets it off? God, I wish I knew. If I knew, then maybe there would be something I could do about it. I know there are certain conditions that seem to be related to it. I've gotten more deeply depressed more often when it's dark a lot. I know that I have problems with S.A.D. (Seasonal Affective Disorder). That's one of the reasons I left Seattle – way too much dark in the winters – and moved to Santa Fe where we have 300 days of sunshine every year. And I know that I felt depressed for a few weeks around Christmas this year – the darkest time of the year here in the northern hemisphere. On the other hand, I dropped into the pit this afternoon in the middle of the day, and I don't fall every evening. So, that isn't the only answer.
I've gotten more deeply depressed more often when I'm grieving for a lost relationship. This is a big one for me, but, again, not the only answer. And I've been known to grieve for years for a short relationship. It doesn't follow any of those stock guidelines I've heard, like grieving a year for every 2 years I was in the relationship. I have no idea how long I'll grieve for my relationship with A. All I know is that I am now. So, yes, this is part of it. I miss all the wonderful parts of our time together, and I feel really lonely. I'm going to write an entire message about this soon – about all the different positions I have about the relationship that was.
I've gotten more deeply depressed more often when I'm seriously ill – as I have been off and on for the past 6 years. Hopefully, now that I'm feeling fine and have good medical results, this won't be a contributing factor any longer – though it certainly has been.
I've gotten more deeply depressed more often when I've been low on money and feeling fearful about it. This one, at least, has an obvious solution. The problem is that when I'm in the pit, I have a very difficult time doing what I need to do to make money.
As I write this, I notice that all 4 of those conditions have been true for me in the recent past months. That helps make some sense of it, though not about why I'm not deeply depressed some of the time when all of the conditions are true. God, maybe I should be even more depressed than I am! Maybe I'm really demonstrating that I'm a survivor.
I wish people could understand, and I know that people who've never been depressed don't seem to be able to, no matter what anyone tells them. Those who have been depressed, though, don't need to be told. They know from experience.
Depression isn't a new thing for me. I've been mildly depressed a lot of the time, punctuated by occasional deeper depression, falling into the pit, as far back as I can remember – and I can remember back to when I was a small child. In reply to my father's simplistic urging for me to "just laugh and be happy," I remember saying as a kid, "What's there to be happy about?"
And, of course, as I said, there have been those times when there has been something to be happy about – for example, a new relationship, an accomplishment, or a pleasurable experience. So, then I've been briefly happy. But rarely have I woken up in the morning with the feeling of "thank you God for most this amazing day" (e. e. cummings – one of my favorite poems).
I did experience that in 1997 for a little over 6 weeks. I recall it vividly. It contributed to my moving to Santa Fe. Some of you may remember if you've been reading my messages for that long or if you went back and read past messages. I took a long trip through the southwest – mostly to New Mexico – while I was still living in the Seattle area, a trip that I called "more a vision quest than a vacation." During that time, I felt joy a lot of the time, with only short periods of feeling low. It was magnificent. It's the way I wish I could feel usually. Reviewing it in my memory, some of the happiness rises in me. Every day felt like an "amazing day."
And there were the times when I was in the throes of a new relationship. For example, the 11 days I spent with A. when she first visited Santa Fe, before she returned to Maui, were joy from beginning to end, no matter what happened. In fact, whatever happened, no matter how problematical, just seemed to contribute more to the love and to the joy. It was because of our coming through a couple of real difficult experiences together and my feeling A's caring and emotional support that I first knew for certain that I was in love with her. What magnificent memories!
Those are examples of what I wish life could be for me all of the time – happiness no matter what, with rare, brief dips into feeling low. I know it's possible. Other people feel that way most of the time. Why not me?
What's wrong with me? Why am I cursed with this damned depression? It feels shameful to me. Of course, I know the theories. Maybe it's genetic. Maybe it's learned. Maybe it's my consciousness. Maybe it's some biochemical aberration. All something wrong with me, though. Shame-worthy. How can I expect anyone to respect me? How can I expect anyone to admire my work? How can I expect any woman I'd want to be with to want to be with me (at least for long)? I have to find a solution.
The fact is that I do have a family history of depression. I think everyone in my family was depressed when I was young. So, it could be genetic, or it could be learned.
I just have to keep doing my work about it. I don't like the medical solutions – anti-depressants – very much, but I'm almost at a point of being willing to try them.
I must do something.
Well, now more than ever, I need to remember Claire. "We are intrepid. We carry on." Indeed.
Namaste,
Michael
I've written recently about being depressed. If you've been reading these messages, you probably remember. I have to do something about it. Enough. I'm tired of it.
Most of the time it's "just" an underlying foundation of feeling a little down, a little gray. I don't feel the joy in living that I aspire to. Oh, occasionally I have some highs, but they're situational and don't last long. It's usually hard for me to imagine that most other people don't feel a little down most of the time, too.
But, every once in awhile, I fall into a pit. Then I feel really depressed. I have trouble sleeping when I want to (usually waking up about 4 in the morning and not being able to fall back asleep). Consequently, I feel tired all the time and tend to want to sleep when it isn't appropriate. I lack energy and can't motivate myself to do anything of value – anything I know I need to do. I feel lots of fear and just want to hide out from anything that might be at all stressful. When I can summon the energy, I try to climb out of the pit, but keep slipping and falling back in. I keep thinking (oddly enough to me), "I want to go home." What's that all about? I don't know what I mean by home. It just arises from somewhere deep within. And I keep on keeping on until somehow I finally find my way out of the pit – usually seemingly magically and apparently not as a result of anything I've done intentionally.
How long does it last? Sometimes hours. Sometimes days. Sometimes weeks. So far, for me, never longer than that. Then, pop! Somehow I'm out of the pit and back to a better place for hours or days or weeks or months or even years. Sometimes I go to sleep in the pit and wake up out of it. Sometimes it just happens in the middle of the day, for no apparent reason.
Same with becoming more deeply depressed. "Falling in a pit" is an apt description because it usually just happens suddenly, just like falling into a pit. Just as one example, I was at a meeting last week, and for the first few minutes of the meeting I was fine. Then, all of a sudden, for no apparent reason, I fell, and I was really down for the rest of the evening.
What sets it off? God, I wish I knew. If I knew, then maybe there would be something I could do about it. I know there are certain conditions that seem to be related to it. I've gotten more deeply depressed more often when it's dark a lot. I know that I have problems with S.A.D. (Seasonal Affective Disorder). That's one of the reasons I left Seattle – way too much dark in the winters – and moved to Santa Fe where we have 300 days of sunshine every year. And I know that I felt depressed for a few weeks around Christmas this year – the darkest time of the year here in the northern hemisphere. On the other hand, I dropped into the pit this afternoon in the middle of the day, and I don't fall every evening. So, that isn't the only answer.
I've gotten more deeply depressed more often when I'm grieving for a lost relationship. This is a big one for me, but, again, not the only answer. And I've been known to grieve for years for a short relationship. It doesn't follow any of those stock guidelines I've heard, like grieving a year for every 2 years I was in the relationship. I have no idea how long I'll grieve for my relationship with A. All I know is that I am now. So, yes, this is part of it. I miss all the wonderful parts of our time together, and I feel really lonely. I'm going to write an entire message about this soon – about all the different positions I have about the relationship that was.
I've gotten more deeply depressed more often when I'm seriously ill – as I have been off and on for the past 6 years. Hopefully, now that I'm feeling fine and have good medical results, this won't be a contributing factor any longer – though it certainly has been.
I've gotten more deeply depressed more often when I've been low on money and feeling fearful about it. This one, at least, has an obvious solution. The problem is that when I'm in the pit, I have a very difficult time doing what I need to do to make money.
As I write this, I notice that all 4 of those conditions have been true for me in the recent past months. That helps make some sense of it, though not about why I'm not deeply depressed some of the time when all of the conditions are true. God, maybe I should be even more depressed than I am! Maybe I'm really demonstrating that I'm a survivor.
I wish people could understand, and I know that people who've never been depressed don't seem to be able to, no matter what anyone tells them. Those who have been depressed, though, don't need to be told. They know from experience.
Depression isn't a new thing for me. I've been mildly depressed a lot of the time, punctuated by occasional deeper depression, falling into the pit, as far back as I can remember – and I can remember back to when I was a small child. In reply to my father's simplistic urging for me to "just laugh and be happy," I remember saying as a kid, "What's there to be happy about?"
And, of course, as I said, there have been those times when there has been something to be happy about – for example, a new relationship, an accomplishment, or a pleasurable experience. So, then I've been briefly happy. But rarely have I woken up in the morning with the feeling of "thank you God for most this amazing day" (e. e. cummings – one of my favorite poems).
I did experience that in 1997 for a little over 6 weeks. I recall it vividly. It contributed to my moving to Santa Fe. Some of you may remember if you've been reading my messages for that long or if you went back and read past messages. I took a long trip through the southwest – mostly to New Mexico – while I was still living in the Seattle area, a trip that I called "more a vision quest than a vacation." During that time, I felt joy a lot of the time, with only short periods of feeling low. It was magnificent. It's the way I wish I could feel usually. Reviewing it in my memory, some of the happiness rises in me. Every day felt like an "amazing day."
And there were the times when I was in the throes of a new relationship. For example, the 11 days I spent with A. when she first visited Santa Fe, before she returned to Maui, were joy from beginning to end, no matter what happened. In fact, whatever happened, no matter how problematical, just seemed to contribute more to the love and to the joy. It was because of our coming through a couple of real difficult experiences together and my feeling A's caring and emotional support that I first knew for certain that I was in love with her. What magnificent memories!
Those are examples of what I wish life could be for me all of the time – happiness no matter what, with rare, brief dips into feeling low. I know it's possible. Other people feel that way most of the time. Why not me?
What's wrong with me? Why am I cursed with this damned depression? It feels shameful to me. Of course, I know the theories. Maybe it's genetic. Maybe it's learned. Maybe it's my consciousness. Maybe it's some biochemical aberration. All something wrong with me, though. Shame-worthy. How can I expect anyone to respect me? How can I expect anyone to admire my work? How can I expect any woman I'd want to be with to want to be with me (at least for long)? I have to find a solution.
The fact is that I do have a family history of depression. I think everyone in my family was depressed when I was young. So, it could be genetic, or it could be learned.
I just have to keep doing my work about it. I don't like the medical solutions – anti-depressants – very much, but I'm almost at a point of being willing to try them.
I must do something.
Well, now more than ever, I need to remember Claire. "We are intrepid. We carry on." Indeed.
Namaste,
Michael
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