Three days ago I got diagnosed with depression.

No, I'm not trying to wave the 'poor me' flag. I can't let myself do that - so, please forgive me if it does turn out that way. Although in some respects its useful to know what is exactly wrong, it does also help in giving a firm kick in the gut. It also doesn't help when you are told what the issue is but that nothing can currently be done about it - Or at least until I prove who I am and wave a trees worth of paperwork in front of them (which, should be tomorrow some time).

So what does this mean? Well by definition it's:

• Severe despondency and dejection, typically felt over a period of time and accompanied by feelings of hopelessness and inadequacy.
• A condition of mental disturbance characterized by such feelings to a greater degree than seems warranted by the external circumstances, typically with lack of energy and difficulty in maintaining concentration or interest in life.

-From the Google 'Define' function.

To myself though? It's disabling. Very much so. Not in the sense I'm going to go and do something drastic - apparently I've been "caught in time" and thus can be watched and studied like a lab rat.

Allow me to explain. I can barely think, I barely register and for the most part I simply switch off - that or the imagination kicks into over drive. Which in turn leaves too many feelings and emotions that are over flooding to the point that once more that I can't register them truly. Or if I do think on them, it generally ends up with some "Over the top and hysterical reaction" in accordance to some of my RL peers (others just give me hugs and listen to my slurred nonsense on the possible existence of multiple realities and why they smell of dandelions).

I digress, a little too much perhaps. It escapes the point in what exactly I'm trying to write - whatever that may be. Even I don't know at this point. I think it's just vent releasing. Got to be. That or it's simply getting the message out. Or myself just trying to gain a sense of grasping what exactly is going on. Perhaps. I suppose if I was to describe it, it's a bit like reaching out and trying to grasp something, only for it to turn into grains of sand and scatter to the wind. Or if you try to jump up and grab only to be pulled down by this large weight and pressure, not only on your legs, but your shoulders and your chest. All paired with this whispered beating in your ear saying you're being, a weak and pathetic excuse for a being.

Anyway. Yes, moving on.

There's not much that can be done, in honesty. Short of looking at your life, trying to find points to change that are 'negative' and maintaining those that are 'positive'. So maintaining things like structure and friendly social interaction, whilst discarding other traits such as drinking and well... you get the idea. I can't really comment too much on the negative traits, as I'm currently crawling into my own little bottle of poison.

What triggers it? Well anything can. From stressful events, family history even right down to chemical imbalances and not producing enough of said thingie. It affects the young, the old, male or female - anyone simply. Everyone is prone to it, no escaping that fact. I do find however that it is kind of ironic how when I was younger I use to tell myself that there was nothing wrong, how I was a perfectly fine human being and 'normal'. And look where that got me. I guess the first part is accepting that it can happen to all, that and there is no over all single trigger. For myself? Well, even I don't know. All I know is that I've been following this once gentle (now a very sharp cliff) downward spiral for a while now and finally freaked out in some respects - or as I describe it, simply turning into a ghost and not existing. It's frightening, I won't lie. More so when you finally register you need a few stiff drinks in you to get some form of wording out - even if it is non coherent babble.

So, focuses.

Having something to focus on is apparently helpful - or at least according to the doctor. Something that is neither good nor bad, but that strange middle ground that is not directly related to yourself (i.e. Not "Oh, I'm alive" or "Oh I am in relatively good physical health" or "Oh my heart is beating"). So, for my focus, I do not have my course, education, dreams, wishes or LARP... I have Mizahar to thank. Founders, creators, mods and gods above, writers, players and whatever else you might call yourself, well, thank you. Something beautiful has been created here, something that will only keep on getting better. I'm not good at this stuff, that should be more than obvious by now. The idea should come across somehow. Maybe. Sadly I can't get into your heads and plant seeds on what I'm trying to say. So, yes, simply, thank you.

I think I used way to may comma's there. Wait, digressing again. Should stop that. It's a bad habit.

What can be done? Well a healthy course of medication in my case (when I'm finally allowed to get them) - I won't go into details, there's no need. That and maintaining somehow to my focus - most probably in the form of doing my job and making stuff. With the occasional witty comment or pun on the side - it's those little things that make me tick after all. That and taking one day at the time, even if it is simply living. Life (and time) will go on regardless - no stopping it and no forcing it to wait for me. That much I can accept. No matter how much of a bitter pill it is to swallow. Time won't stop for me, so why should I stop for it? At least some of my realist side has managed to break through in the end, along with the dreadful sense of humour.

All I've got to do now is keep going, somehow.

In conclusion, I'm coping - but it's hard going. I'll survive though, that's all I can do. Plus, it's what I've had to tell myself. Just take it slow, take it one day at a time. And now, at least I can do something about it instead of being left wondering if it truly is nothing. There has finally been a sense of closure.