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Intellectual existence
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Following a bout of major depression, I have anhedonia (avolition, but no anergia). I have energy to get things done that I see need doing.
Nothing makes me feel good more than momentarily.
Most pleasurable activities make me crave discomfort (or worse).
My mood is generally flat and I do not feel much in the way of emotion (happy, sad, angry, jealous, etc..).
I have nothing I want to achieve.
I have nothing that I want to do.
I have nowhere I want to go.
I have no people I want to meet.
Helping others does not make me feel good.
Achieving things seems hollow.
I have no fear of dying.
I have no fear of pain (also a very high pain tolerance).
About most things I truly do not care.
I have an entire alphabet of mental health conditions diagnosis (ASD, CPTSD, OCD, BPD, MDD, PDD). I have had another alphabet worth of treatment (CBT, DBT, EMDR, ACT, Schema, TMS). Some are still ongoing.
I have an upbringing of care for family and self sacrifice. I take care of myself so I can do things for family so they remain comfortable. Its all done by rote. I have been taught/trained over my treatments not to self harm. I often think about it... These thoughts do not worry or disturb me. I keep busy so I don't dwell on them. My family wants and needs me.
I have been in constant mental health care over the past 4 years. I have been in hospital numerous times. I have been on (and am now off) antidepressants. I regularly see psychologists and a psychiatrist. I will ask my psychiatrist for another round of TMS next time we meet.
I have a lot to be thankful for. I have more than a lot of people. I am in good physical health. I seem to avoid misfortune.
I don't feel worthy of my good fortune.
Is this as good as it gets?
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The painting was for an assignment. It took quite a while to get it how I sort of wanted it to look. That is, I would paint over parts I was unhappy with until it had the look I was looking for. Anyway, if you can imagine a swamp land with shallow puddles of water. There is a single tree which offers protection and under the tree is me. Though I am in the form of a ghost - because I was/am (or felt that I was) not allowed to be myself. I would hide my true thoughts for a number of reasons - or perhaps look at it as wearing a mask.
(Just quickly... the sky is dark and stormy, There is a small bird wanting to show me the way out.)
In your post and the paragraph with "picture it as low tide now" took me back to that time when I did this painting.
Where am I located now in that picture... I will have to get back to you on that one.
And maybe from your post you might somewhere close by?
There is a way out... that much I am confident of.
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