My most recent post was a piece entitled I've Got a New Attitude. I wrote about the virtues of adopting a "happy" attitude, and while most commenters were supportive, I was taken to task in a couple of PMs and I've noticed a few anti-be-happy posts popping up here and there. **In all fairness, the PMs I received were from hurting people who felt my post was diminishing of the extreme difficulties they were encountering in their personal lives. I've been at that place, too, hence my decision to post this today. ** Consequently, I feel compelled to elaborate a bit further in the spirit of full disclosure.

I am not what one might describe as a Pollyanna, tripping along the path, prescribing smiles and joy for all. Quite the contrary, I have a melancholy river that courses through my soul, one that takes me on many an unwanted, white-knuckling, holding-on-for-dear-life trip through the rapids of searing depression which threatens to suck me to the bottom of that wretched river, holding me there until my lungs burst and I become one with the melancholy. 

Over the thirty-plus years that I have fought this demon of depression, I have learned a few things. I wish I could say I've won more battles than I've lost, but sadly, that is not the case. My family has the scars to prove it, as do I. We all sport the battle-weary heart of those who fight the good fight against this insidious disease whose name polite society would prefer we dare not speak.

Depression has the ability to turn reality on its head. In true Alice in Wonderland fashion, logic is turned on its head, twisting the truth of any matter into a convoluted coil of nonsense. The frustration of attempting to unravel the knot of distorted half-truths and tangled logic is enormous, especially given the limitations of my seratonin and dopamine-deprived brain.

As I stated earlier, I have learned a few tricks over the years. I know that, although depression is a formidable foe, I still hold a few keys. I can choose to give depression the upper hand; and I do that when I focus on the frustrations of my life. Even with the medications that I take religiously, I can easily throw myself into the dungeon of despair by myopically narrowing my view of my own life to exclude the good parts of it, the things that make me happy. I know that I have a tendency to do that. I am well acquainted with that dungeon; I know every corner, all its nooks and crannies. No, it's not a comfortable place, but it is oh-so-familiar, so familiar, in fact, that making the trip there is almost effortless.

Staying out of that dungeon of despair is another matter entirely. The lure of that dark, shadowy place can be irresistible. During times of great stress or days when my relationships are hurtful, the dungeon draws me. I want to go there and hide, to lock myself away, to numb myself against the pain. The dungeon has seen me at my worst and still it calls to me, holds a place for me, wants me.

And yet... I hold another key. Even on my worst days, I know that I have the option to summon the energy to climb up out of that pit. I can take a brisk walk, do something creative (like rearranging the furniture in a room), have great sex, all activities that push those magical endorphins into action. Laughter truly is good medicine - a good, long laugh or a fit of the giggles triggers the release of endorphins. I view endorphin-releasing activities as the child-gate that keeps me out of the dungeon. 

Do I always choose the feel-good endorphins over the myopic-my-life-is-shit dungeon? No, I don't. In fact, I am apt to choose the dark and dreary dream-killing dungeon more often than I care to admit. It's the nature of the disease. But, on the days when my survival instinct is just above passable, I write nonsense like I've Got a New Attitude. 

Those are the days when I rail against the madness, when I look the demon square in the eyes and tell it to fuck off. When I proclaim that I've got a new attitude, it's more likely to be a statement of faith than a statement of fact. The way I see it, it's a war, and those faith-filled new attitude days are about winning battles. I've been at this a long time and I still have a few tricks up my sleeve. I'm still here and I'm still Unbreakable.