My Remedy for Depression

I've heard depression is classified as self-anger. OK, I can accept that. I am angry at myself for wasting $700 plus $500 in multiple attempts to escape my circumstances and I am angry at myself for moving to these circumstances in the first place and getting stuck here. Understanding why I'm angry and depressed doesn't make it feel better. What does make it feel better is DEMOLITION. Or...I need a project! Something physically and mentally exhausting.



 

Remember my three-quarter antique spool bed I found free off Freecycle? The same bed I stripped and painted twice? It needs a mattress. Three-quarter size mattresses aren't common so this means I'd either have to special order one which is impossible since they soak them in formaldehyde and fire-resistant treatments OR make one. Making one involves finding organic mattress pads, stacking them, sewing them together, covering them, and hoping the plywood I place underneath as support doesn't stink to high heaven. I read I might need up to seven pads and at nearly $100 each, that's $700. Well, you know I already spent that money unwisely when it would have gone to better use toward a new mattress! Damn, that makes me angry.

The bed frame has been sitting mattress-less for the last six months. It depresses me to look at it. I need something to destroy, or rather, repurpose, so I decided to take it apart and make a bench out of it. This was my original plan for this bed as I didn't think it would be in such great shape. I figure the bench can serve as my new couch. The plan is to use the existing hardware so I can take it apart and move it easily. Currently my upholstered antique couch weighs nearly 2,000 pounds. It's hell to move. I'd love to sell it. I want something smaller and lighter weight. Can I do it?

The first challenge was figuring out how to cut the foot board in two parts without screwing it up. I looked forward to this as the foot board makes me angry. I thought the bed was in its original condition until my woodworking friend came over and pointed out the foot board decoration had been removed. Damn. Besides watching this bed sit for six months, looking at the foot board reminds me it's damaged. I want it to be pretty. It's not and that makes me angry. I need to annihilate it. (Expressing emotions is good....)

See the middle of the foot board where it's straight?
There used to be pretty woodcarving there probably
repeating the design of the head board.

Unfortunately, all I have is a hand saw. I bought it many years ago for one dollar and it has assisted me through all kinds of construction projects. I don't trust myself to be able to cut through twelve inches of wood by hand in a straight line. My woodworking friend suggested using a chop saw in order to get a straight, clean line and offered to let me use his. Bonus! Once I completed this very important step, I studied and contemplated the remaining steps and then continued to hand-saw all other wood pieces: the front board (made from the original bed rails) and the supporting seat boards. Physical labor makes a person forget about anger or depression. Especially if it hurts and hand-sawing hurts!

Check it out:

 

I have yet to make a cushion for it so I used my quilts and folded them up for some temporary padding.

Here is the view of the hardware so you can see how it all attaches. It was tricky.

I'll wait to touch up the paint this summer. I made all kinds of
mistakes in the name of demolition like drilling right
through the wood. HA!

 

If I were to attach everything permanently with screws, it would be the weight of a whole bed and too heavy for me to lift let alone move gracefully. That would make me angry.

There is a problem, however. When I picked up this bed from the Freecycle giver she told me, "It's a wonderful bed. Just don't have any monkey sex and it'll be fine." Now, I didn't ask for details. I thought it was really weird and little creepy a stranger would talk to me about monkey sex. I visualized this woman having monkey sex for a horrible instant and promptly ignored the comment pretending she never said it. Ah ha! Now I know what she meant...

It falls apart. Any little movement and the hardware attachments come undone. I would think a heavy mattress would hold it down and stabilize it, but according to the woman, I guess not. With much trepidation, I've test-sat on my new bench. It's not a relaxing piece of furniture nor something I would want to curl up on and watch some T.V. It wiggles. The first time I tried to move it from my guest bedroom to another bedroom, it leaned slightly, and the whole thing fell apart. SPLAT! If it wasn't so comical, it might have made me angry, but I had just finished hand-sawing six 2 x 4 pieces of wood so I was rather relaxed. Still, the splat did not give me great confidence...a bench sitter could get hurt. Not sure how to remedy the situation. I'll think on it.

Thinking and planning, besides physical labor, is also a remedy for depression. It occupies one's mind.

I feel better.

Why?

Question of the Week: Who shoots a classroom of six year old children?

In the media we are seeing all kinds of assumed psychological profiles from mental health professionals trying to make sense of the senseless acts of the twenty year old who murdered a classroom of first graders as well as teachers and staff. They are saying he had a "personality disorder" or he was "mentally ill". And what about the shooter in the theater in Aurora, Colorado? Or the teenage killers at Columbine? Or the numerous other random acts of violence since the 1970s? Mental illness is the all-encompassing, easy answer. As soon as it is said, everyone nods and accepts. It's the "not-like-me" excuse that offers little explanation but gives us some rationality knowing no one in their right mind would do such a thing.

The latest article questioning why addresses all kinds of blame theories: lack of gun control, not enough guns, better options for parents with mentally ill children, media's role glorifying murderers, violence in video games, violence on television and movies, lack of religion in schools. Everyone has a theory:

http://shine.yahoo.com/healthy-living/newtown-connecticut-mass-shootings-blame-192700959.html

All these theories seem to add a different piece to the puzzle pointing to modern society as the culprit. There is only one theory missing and it can only come from someone with first hand experiences with chemical sensitivity.

A few years ago my fourteen year old neighbor committed suicide. I hardly knew him but for months with tears in my eyes I thought about him each day. Everyone in our little community wondered why? Did we miss the signs? Could this have been prevented?

In addition to asking why? I also asked why didn't he shoot anyone else? Why would I even ask such a question? Maybe because I'm an ex-teacher. I've seen rage in the classroom in the faces of the young and I have experiences with students who threaten to bring a gun to school to kill everyone. More importantly, I recognize the epidemic.

You might vaguely remember me mentioning this neighbor boy in my post titled "Chocolate is Evil". He was the one suffering from migraines at ten years old. The day I met him he was home from school and there was a large chocolate cake with bright red and blue frosting on the kitchen counter half eaten. His mother laughed when I suggest she keep chocolate and food colorings out of his diet. What I didn't tell you is I went home after our visit and told a health care professional friend of mine he was showing signs of chemical sensitivity at a very early age. I worried what will happen when he reaches puberty and his hormones, stress levels, and chemical exposures collide creating a volatile mix. I told my friend his mother won't take it seriously until he attempts suicide. This was not said in jest as I know how chemical-laced food and other toxic exposures can mess up a brain, but at the same time, I didn't take my own comment as seriously as I should have. For several years I would see this boy walking down the street looking sullen and angry. I never saw him smiling, looking calm or happy. I wondered.


After he died, everyone wondered WHY? Not me. I wondered why when he got home after his mother forced him to walk two miles to get there as punishment, he walked straight upstairs came back downstairs with his shotgun and shot himself in the head in front of his house for the whole neighborhood to see. I wondered what provokes that kind of self-destructive, public rage? He didn't shoot himself in the seclusion of the garage, the backyard, or in a private room. It wasn't some secret, hidden torment. It screamed RAGE. I wondered if his mother was wearing copious amounts of perfume as she often did. I wondered if he had sugary, chemically-colored cereal for breakfast, drank caffeinated beverages or ate chocolate earlier that day as teenagers so often do without any thought. I wondered why he didn't shoot his mother first and THEN kill himself.


Most MCSers tell me they have brain issues. Exposure to chemicals and their brain reacts badly. Uncontrollable irritability and unfounded anger. Those of us aware of the effects of chemicals know exactly what's causing it even if we can't control it other than exposure avoidance. What about those who have no clue what causes it and have been told they must have a mental illness?  A personality disorder? Depression? Bipolar illness? So many of our diagnosable mental illnesses are misunderstood and lack any reasoning or known cause. No one can say for sure what causes them and those who attempt to point the finger at chemicals are labeled as unconventional quacks.

Many of the chemically sensitive also suffer from respiratory dysfunction, anaphylaxis, and/or other debilitating symptoms. If we weren't stopped in our tracks with a debilitating symptom, how many of us would effortlessly escalate to rage? Is this epidemic of violence due to chemical sensitivity? Are these shooters experiencing uncontrollable, irrational rage due to chemical exposures? I find it interesting the lists of historical random acts of violence start in the 1970s, the beginning of the drug culture and fast food nation. Did shootings at schools, malls and theaters happen before the 1970s?

Modern medicine ignores chemical sensitivity. Instead of finding answers, we are told it's all in our heads.  How many of us are told to seek psychiatric care or have been diagnosed with some kind of mental illness because the doctor was so narrow-minded? I've learned anytime a doctor says "I don't know" the answer is chemicals. So...if we ask why someone would shoot a classroom of children and no one has a valid reason, is the answer...chemicals?

Is mental illness the easy, all-encompassing answer to a much bigger, more deadly problem? Is society being poisoned with the chemicals and rage is the by-product? Are the reasons for random acts of violence and unexplained suicides right in front of our faces? The chemicals we breathe, toxins we touch, and the poisons we eat? If we blame mental illness can we continue as a society to not be responsible for the problem?

Why does a person shoot a classroom of small children?

Fester, Fester, Fester

Anger is exhausting, stressful, and all-consuming negatively affecting one's well-being.

I'm angry a lot. If not angry, then just plain irritable. Anything can set me off: entitled neighbors, disrespectful relatives, inconsiderate friends, and stupid people in general. Mostly people, but I've been known to get angry at nails, plants, rocks, and insects, as well, although less frequently. I once got mad at my van and slammed on its brakes. I'm sure the van learned its lesson.

I know a lot of it has to do with chemicals as I find I am less tolerant of anything if I'm dealing with an exposure. The more deadly the exposure, the more irritable I become. I can't control it. My only remedy is to cloister myself within my house, avoid people, and wait it out. I yell at the walls, pace the floors, chop down the garden, or do some physical labor in the privacy of my self-confinement. Detoxification methods help as they move the toxic load out of my body which alleviates the pressure on my brain. So does diet. When I gave up gluten I had a strange, unnatural wave of contentment wash over me. It's an ongoing battle to squelch the constant, rising emotion of anger on a daily basis.

Prior to chemical sensitivity I was incredibly good-natured, easy-going, and friendly. Getting angry or irritable lasted five minutes and it was over.

Some, however, hold on to their anger and resentment for a lifetime.

Not too long ago I ran into an old friend I hadn't seen since college. We made small talk and did some minor catching up using the people we were with as an audience for our memories. Then out of the blue my old friend assumed a tone of hostility as she began reminiscing about a package she sent to me when I was living in Switzerland. Her voice became very loud as she told us how she couldn't believe back then I wanted her to send me...peanut butter. She laughed sarcastically at how self-centered I was and how the postage on the jar of peanut butter cost three times as much as the actual peanut butter. Her fake laughter contradicted the obvious resentment she felt. She kept yelling repeatedly, "THREE TIMES AS MUCH AS IT COST!" I was embarrassed. I stared in disbelief trying to remember the peanut butter, but only remembering how wonderful her letters and packages made me feel at a time when I was incredibly homesick. She looked at her friend and my friend and yelled, "Can you believe she would do that?" Our friends stared at her as surprised as I was at her hostility.

I asked her, "If it was so expensive and such a hardship, why did you send it?"

She ignored my question and continued to laugh hysterically explaining she had asked me in a letter what I missed most about living in the United States and I had jokingly replied, "Peanut butter." For some reason she felt obligated to send it to me. And it was my fault. My thoughtlessness was to blame. I was shocked this small gesture of kindness I so very much appreciated at the time was a lifetime's source of anger and resentment for her. I had no idea she felt this way. I was amazed she blamed me for it instead of herself. I wonder over those years how often she thought about it and how much anger had built up over time. How did this anger affect her health over the years? I have vague memories of the peanut butter, but her resentment has totally changed my perception of our history together. Maybe she had become chemically sensitive?

We all have experiences in our past we'd like to forget. Some of us dwell on them, others go through years of counseling, and still more forgive, forget and live their lives to the fullest.

Jason Mraz has a song on his new CD Love is a Four Letter Word called "Living in the Moment". It's my new theme song. I love the words:

If this life is one act
Why do we lay all these traps
We put them right in our path
When we just wanna be free
I will not waste my days
Making up all kinds of ways
To worry about all the things
That will not happen to me
So I just let go of what I know I don't know
And I know I only do this by

Chorus:
Living in the moment
Living my life
Easy and breezy
With peace in my mind
I got peace in my heart
Got peace in my soul
Wherever I'm going, I'm already home
I'm living in the moment

I'm letting myself off the hook for things I've done
I let my past go past
And now I'm having more fun
I'm letting go of the thoughts
That do not make me strong
And I believe this way can be the same for everyone
And if I fall asleep
I know you'll be the one who'll always remind me
To live in the moment

(Chorus)

I can't walk through life facing backwards
I have tried
I tried more than once to just make sure
And I was denied the future I'd been searching for
I spun around and hurt no more by 

(Chorus)


Video:

I am rendezvousing with the Mraz Man this weekend and hope to soak up all that positive spirit of his!

I haven't been to a concert in about thirteen years. Wish me luck!