Drugs and Depression (What is depression)

Learn how I beat Depression

The family of a girlfriend many years my senior once asked me in table top discussion, if I had any problem with drugs? I think it was meant in a way in relation to her, I don’t think that in the look of me there was any give away that I too enjoyed the occasional puff on a joint.

I remember jokingly remarking that I had a problem getting good quality gear. They half laughed, unsure exactly what I was saying, as this would not be the expected answer from a person who was dead set against any unnatural stimulus. They knew I enjoyed stimulus of a sort alright (well I was sleeping with their sister and sister in law respectively) but it wasn’t like I was puffing away in front of them, or like my eyes were hanging out of my head that afternoon after a heavy night’s smoking session.

I actually lost that women in the end because of an all night smoking session in the den of a group of people I detested, but there was truth in my statement that I had trouble getting my hands on good quality stuff, and while it can be a pleasurable experience smoking the occasional joint with real friends, on this occasion I was poisoned by the atmosphere and really not myself the next day as I and my girlfriend (that should be woman friend, her son was closer in age to me than I was to her… long story) went on a long drive to a literary festival at the other side of the country.

I was out of sorts as a consequence of the smoking the night before, there had been booze too and I guess I was experiencing the morning after blues. What is depression if it is not the blues? But the blues thankfully don’t linger on, and they fade away. I’ve spoken about the major depression I experienced in my formative years, but in my early 20’s I believe as a consequence of my fondness for the occasional joint, I encountered depression again.

Casting my mind back, I shouldn’t have played with fire. Being in that space before I took my first pull, I should have placed myself in the moment and said “I know what is depression, why would I want to dice with it again by abusing substances?” I should have had the strength to say no. Wow looking back, what am I? 29-years-of age now? Perhaps 15% (maybe more) of my life has been spent in the throws on one mental illness or another. Each was symptomatic of depression, one was brought about through the circumstances of life, and the other was entirely self-inflicted.

Psychosis and depression are synonymous with each other, one leads to the other. Being immersed in a false reality, full of manic highs and lows even when the drug was long since quit, it caused for a breakdown in communication with anyone but the weirdest of people. Looking back at that year now, I wonder how I managed to hold it together (I was experiencing thoughts that I am too embarrassed to even speak of here) how I managed to hold down a job, pay  my rent and somehow continue living a life without getting any professional treatment?

I remember it not being easy, I remember the anxiety and more than anything else I remember the fatigue. Snoozing away on that couch even when the sun was splitting the heavens outside, missing my youth under a cascade of what would have been avoidable had I only done the sensible thing and said no in the first place, or just have been more careful not to push the boat out.

I’m so glad that despite my weakness I did manage to hold onto one thing of which I am proud in a way, in spite of drugs being all around me, my flat mates and my so called friends (the weirdo people I mentioned) I never touched anything stronger than the occasional joint. I’m certain that had I done so, had I stated to push crap up my nostrils suicide Tuesday might have been taken in the literal sense as I was never flush with cash enough to make a reload possible for the hungry animal that is cocaine. Self induced, drug induced, life induced, trauma induced, what is depression if it is not the inducement of the bad from the bad?

Learn how I beat Depression

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