A Monday Check-In
The issue with doing this blog and trying to update it semi-regularly is that my depression isn't really taking on new shades. I have nothing new to report because everything is exactly the same as it was, which is all part of the problem. So this entry is going to be like one of those Sopranos episodes where, like, Paulie is upset that he's not getting a piece of the church carnival concessions, a situation that has never been referenced before and never will be again.
You know, that's one thing about The Sopranos that really stands out now. There are some episodes where nothing happens. Or more to the point, there's one small thing that happens to advance an ongoing storyline but that's three minutes out of the episode and then they still had to fill out an hour. Even though David Chase started in TV, he's a guy who thinks movies are better and he didn't seem to get that every episode has to be a satisfying unit of entertainment. In later years, Mad Men, Deadwood, Breaking Bad and others would crack this and now it feels like that's kind of the rule. I love The Sopranos and it is a lot of the reason why TV is good now, but certain things really jump out when you watch it now. Like that they talk about the Esplanade constantly and it never matters and I never understood what it was. You can ignore every time they talk about the Esplanade and you're not missing any plot. Apparently that's what I'm here to talk about today.
Let's return to insomnia. I learned that after three sleepless or near sleepless-nights, I'll get too tired to function by night four so at least I'll sleep. There's some comfort in that. People asked about sleep supplements and I try to avoid those because about five years ago I used Tylenol PM a little too casually and soon I couldn't sleep without it. Melatonin is supposed to be healthier, but I find that it makes me sleepy but doesn't put me to sleep, so I'm still up all night but I'm more actively tired. So it's not great. But now that I know that I will eventually sleep, so I'm not going to wind up like that one guy on Prison Break. I think there's also a Batman villain who doesn't sleep, but I can't quite place it. I'd assume this villain would be either an Alan Grant creation or maybe somebody from the Arkham Asylum: Living Hell miniseries. I'll figure it out.
In the last couple of days, I've had a friend suggest I see a therapist and another suggest that I go to a doctor and tell them I'm depressed and want pills. I didn't know that was a thing you could do and I assume I'd be arrested. I've been thinking about why I don't want to do either of those things and other than my emotionally distant Midwestern upbringing that sometimes leads to the impression that I'm a robot bot, there are two big reasons. First is that there are people who need it more. I'm a mediocre straight white male and I don't have a reason to complain about anything. There are people who have an actual struggle every day, I'm just sad because I don't know how feelings work. I should not be wasting a therapist's time.
The other thing, and maybe more important, is that I'm not ready to admit that this is something that I need outside forces to fix. And I'll say right now, I have several friends who are on medication and that's great. If it makes them feel better or helps normalize them, that's amazing. They're stronger than I am. I would never suggest that therapy or medication is a failing. It's healthy and smart and I'm so jealous. Because I can't admit to myself that this might not go away and I can only let myself approach it as a temporary situation. The people who are honest with themselves and get the help they need are the strong ones, make no mistake. I'm just not sure I'm strong enough to be that honest. I am afraid to reach out to a medical professional and admit that I need help. And I either have to find the courage to do that or keep muddling through.
You know, that's one thing about The Sopranos that really stands out now. There are some episodes where nothing happens. Or more to the point, there's one small thing that happens to advance an ongoing storyline but that's three minutes out of the episode and then they still had to fill out an hour. Even though David Chase started in TV, he's a guy who thinks movies are better and he didn't seem to get that every episode has to be a satisfying unit of entertainment. In later years, Mad Men, Deadwood, Breaking Bad and others would crack this and now it feels like that's kind of the rule. I love The Sopranos and it is a lot of the reason why TV is good now, but certain things really jump out when you watch it now. Like that they talk about the Esplanade constantly and it never matters and I never understood what it was. You can ignore every time they talk about the Esplanade and you're not missing any plot. Apparently that's what I'm here to talk about today.
Let's return to insomnia. I learned that after three sleepless or near sleepless-nights, I'll get too tired to function by night four so at least I'll sleep. There's some comfort in that. People asked about sleep supplements and I try to avoid those because about five years ago I used Tylenol PM a little too casually and soon I couldn't sleep without it. Melatonin is supposed to be healthier, but I find that it makes me sleepy but doesn't put me to sleep, so I'm still up all night but I'm more actively tired. So it's not great. But now that I know that I will eventually sleep, so I'm not going to wind up like that one guy on Prison Break. I think there's also a Batman villain who doesn't sleep, but I can't quite place it. I'd assume this villain would be either an Alan Grant creation or maybe somebody from the Arkham Asylum: Living Hell miniseries. I'll figure it out.
In the last couple of days, I've had a friend suggest I see a therapist and another suggest that I go to a doctor and tell them I'm depressed and want pills. I didn't know that was a thing you could do and I assume I'd be arrested. I've been thinking about why I don't want to do either of those things and other than my emotionally distant Midwestern upbringing that sometimes leads to the impression that I'm a robot bot, there are two big reasons. First is that there are people who need it more. I'm a mediocre straight white male and I don't have a reason to complain about anything. There are people who have an actual struggle every day, I'm just sad because I don't know how feelings work. I should not be wasting a therapist's time.
The other thing, and maybe more important, is that I'm not ready to admit that this is something that I need outside forces to fix. And I'll say right now, I have several friends who are on medication and that's great. If it makes them feel better or helps normalize them, that's amazing. They're stronger than I am. I would never suggest that therapy or medication is a failing. It's healthy and smart and I'm so jealous. Because I can't admit to myself that this might not go away and I can only let myself approach it as a temporary situation. The people who are honest with themselves and get the help they need are the strong ones, make no mistake. I'm just not sure I'm strong enough to be that honest. I am afraid to reach out to a medical professional and admit that I need help. And I either have to find the courage to do that or keep muddling through.
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