A New Blog

This is my new blog. 

Or, rather, it's a redesign of my current blog. The old blog was a place for me to document my adventures during my leave of absence from Cornell University. At least that's what it was meant to be. What it ultimately became was a glimpse into my battle through depression and (wow... it feels unreal to write this) my recovery from it.

So I decided to keep the old posts (now designated with LOA for leave of absence) and redesign the look and focus of the entire blog to simply become a place for my thoughts, stories, ideas, etc.

Throughout my life, I've been privileged to meet, get to know, and become friends with a wide variety of amazing people. I'm grateful for the opportunity to really hear what people have to say; whether it's about their hobbies, struggles, hopes, fears, passions, favorite foods, or anything at all. These interactions have continued to bolster my belief that everyone has not only a story, but a story worth sharing. Because it's when we share our stories that we have an opportunity to connect with and meet others who may be going through similar things as us or are passionate about the same things we are. Sharing our stories allow us to find those other people out there who share thoughts and ideas that we may have thought were unique to ourselves or not worth talking about, or they may simply open our minds to new ways of thinking.

Like many things in the past, I've put this off for far too long. So here's a new place for my story. May anyone reading this blog find something of value to them, and may you be inspired (yes, every single one of you) to find a way to share your unique story as well.

Recovery (LOA)

Some time ago I posted a link to a TED talk on facebook that talked about depression, along with some words about my own experiences with the horrible condition. If you haven't had a chance to watch it, I still very highly recommend it: http://on.ted.com/h08SE. 

Though my last post here was rather optimistic when it came to defining a more concrete purpose for myself, it did not change the fact that I was still suffering greatly, and there have been many, many lows since then. A lot has changed on the outside as well since last summer; I returned to Ithaca (though I'm not yet re-enrolled at Cornell as a student), moved into a cozy one bedroom apartment with continued help of my parents, and got a new job as a personal trainer at the university fitness centers. Through all of these changes (and maybe partly due to them) the depression lingered and eventually intensified.

That said, I want to shift gears from that and talk about another recent turning point in my life, a much more significant one than before. 

About a month ago, my good friend Naomi invited me to a meditation session with a Tibetan Buddhist monk she was going to be meeting with.  Though I was pretty excited about a meeting with someone who dedicated his life to spiritual practice, I couldn't have guessed that the session would have such a profound impact on me.

Instead of a simple mindfulness meditation, we were instructed that day to focus our minds and meditate on compassion. A way in which he suggested we do this was to imagine showing the same compassion we already have for those closest to us, like family and close friends, to the greater human family, particularly those who we are normally neutral towards (strangers) and even those towards which we harbor negative emotions (enemies).

I quickly thought about how I would approach this mediation; I had no such enemies to practice compassion with, and I already considered myself to be a rather caring person to even people I don't really know. 

Then I realized that I did in fact have a powerful "enemy" I could focus on, someone I grew to hate more and more deeply and intensely ever since the downward spiral of depression really took hold... me.

And so we began the meditation, and I created an image of myself as someone distinct from me. I pretended that Jeremy was not me, but another person I knew. I visualized him in my mind, saw through his downtrodden exterior to an even deeper level of suffering. I knew about every tear he shed, all the shame he felt every time his sadness drove him to act less and less like himself, and the hopelessness that seemed to define him almost completely for so long. I also saw his strength, his kindness, his sincere desire to be happy and to make a positive impact in the lives of others. What I basically saw for the first time in myself was a capable, extremely well meaning fellow human, a friend, being beat down over and over again, and it broke my heart. I actually shed a tear.

I wanted to hug this person, to be there for him and to let him know that he has an ally in me. I directed the empathy and understanding toward him that I believe everyone deserves. 

I realized (and truly internalized) that I'd been holding a very peculiar double standard against myself. I treated myself in ways that I wouldn't wish on anyone, constantly beating myself up and criticizing myself instead of actually being compassionate. I began to see myself as a human being just like the rest.

Though the experience itself was rather dramatic, its effects began rather subtly. For example, that day, I reached for an apple instead of a cookie as a snack, turned down dessert at dinner (which Kelsey was very suspicious of), and even went to bed a little earlier on my own accord for the first time in recent memory. I didn't know why I did these things or why they were significant at first. But then I came to see that the excessive sweet tooth and knack for overeating (to name a few things) I acquired over the years didn't only come from (as I thought) a desire to relieve myself of suffering and salvage the list of quickly disappearing enjoyable things (as well as reasons for living). It came from a fundamental lack of consideration and respect for myself and my own health and well being. Basically, if I were a loving and caring parent, knowing what I know, I would not treat my child, or anyone who was counting on me for that matter, the way I was (not) taking care of myself.

These past few years have been hard, but I've been able to piece things together slowly, little by little. It began with finding ounces of hope here and there, however small and transient, that I wouldn't be miserable for the rest of my life, and that life may someday be something more than a cage I was trapped in with no (good) way out. Through my extended break I even came to find for myself once again a compelling purpose for my life. I eventually came to the point where I wasn't simply living because suicide would hurt too many people. Being able to genuinely feel respect and compassion for myself as a human being like the rest, however, has been the most dramatic catalyst for change.

In the past month or so I've been getting up earlier, exercising at least 5 days a week, feeding myself a lot better, and sleeping a lot more regularly. My curiosity has kept growing and my excitement for learning and seeing how I can contribute to the world while improving my own life has been reignited. I completely "renovated" my apartment, which had been largely neglected since I moved in in August (I like to use the word renovated playfully to capture the scope of the internal redesign, no walls were actually torn down or anything). I haven't lived in such a neat, clean, organized, and overall pleasant at-home environment since my impeccably well maintained freshman dorm. Kelsey has been amazed that I've actually been happy to take walks with her as opposed to putting up a fight every time she'd suggest going anywhere (except sushi. I never lost my love for that sushi). I've even started writing in a gratitude journal every night without fail before going to bed. Basically, it's been a dramatic shift in lifestyle from just getting by and figuring out how to avoid hating my life even more.

I don't know if treating myself more kindly has been the latest piece of the puzzle, or if it may have been what I needed from the start. Like most things, it's probably due to a combination of many things. What I do know is that I'm grateful for this amazing new vitality I've gained.

In a session with one of my previous therapists, I mentioned how all I wanted was to find happiness again. She told me that happiness is an emotion like any other, and that it comes and goes. I replied that I did not mean the emotion, I meant something deeper. 

What I meant, though I didn't find any words to describe it at the time, is that I want to be happy in the way that, no matter what happens, no matter how much suffering there is in the moment or how many painful things happen in my life, I can look deep down into my core and know that I am still, in a sense, "happy", that I am grateful to be a conscious part of this universe and to have the opportunity to live in and even find some enjoyment in this strange, incomprehensible, imperfect existence we share. I had reached that stage of happiness once, and was afraid that it had escaped me for good.

I know I'm not necessarily "home free" yet, and that there are many challenges waiting for me up the road. But today for the first time in almost 3 years I realized that I can finally and honestly say that I am happy again. Truly so. And though there's no guarantee of how long that will last, for now that's much more than enough.

Breakthrough (LOA)

"He who has a why in life can tolerate almost any how." - Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche 

About a week and a half ago, I had a breakthrough; I finally found the answer I've been searching for.

This answer, as I anticipated in my first post here, is quite simple. I want to be the best I can be and empower others along the way. I want to fully realize the gift of life and help others who want to do the same. That is my purpose.

The question of what exactly that means will probably be the subject of a future post, and it might even change over time, but for now that's enough. It's enough to put my worries about the future to rest, and more importantly it's enough to reintroduce a sense of meaning into my every day existence. It's enough so that I'm no longer stuck on the "how".
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This was going to originally be a much, much longer post. I was going to preface the above statement of my newly (re)discovered purpose with how exactly I arrived at it. But why complicate something that is so simple by going into so much detail?

Well... my answer to that is captured in a another quote, one attributed to former associate supreme court justice Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr. which I particularly like:

"I would not give a fig for the simplicity this side of complexity, but I would give my life for the simplicity on the other side of complexity."

My so called "breakthrough" would mean nothing if it was just a simple platitude I decided to come up with one day. And it probably means little to anyone reading this post. But it means everything to me now because, despite it's simplicity, it's attainment was the result of much internal struggle, painstaking (probably excessive) thought, and tackling very difficult questions and decisions.

So I left the actual description of my journey out of the current post simply because it was becoming way too long, and I wanted to get my main idea out without burying it in an epic wall of words. However, I think that the journey is not only important but much more interesting than the end result, since it was the process and not the end result itself that gives strength to my new insight. Therefore I decided to keep that part intact and save it for a separate post.

That said, I don't aim to dwell in the past anymore. What ultimately matters most is that I have something to keep me going in the here and now, and I have plenty to do. Though this doesn't mean that everything is suddenly perfect, it's certainly nice to have some real direction again and the drive to continue moving towards it.

Deep Breaths (LOA)

Phew. What a weekend.

I haven't felt a sense of peace like the one I'm currently feeling for a very long time. So much has happened that I'm having trouble digesting it all.

The best thing I can do right now is keep taking deep breaths and letting it all sink in. I thought I'd have more than enough material for a blog post but I realize that I wouldn't even know where to begin. My journal (the physical one) would probably be a better place to start.

For now all I know is that my head is clearer and my optimism is slowly returning. Real optimism, the quiet confident kind. Not the kind that needs to constantly claw and fight to stay alive.

Thank you for rescuing me Kelsey. You're my hero.

How I'm Actually Doing (LOA)

It's three in the morning and I have no one to talk to, so I guess I'm "talking" to whoever ends up reading this.

I'm miserable. And that's just been the default lately. I'm ashamed of who I've become and I feel like a massive dissapointment to anyone who's ever known me. I fight and fight and each time it feels like I run out of steam faster than the last. I hit rock bottom. As in, a new rock bottom (which only took about three weeks to dethrone the last). I would think that for someone as hopeless as I've been lately I could at least take refuge in the fact that rock bottom usually means it can only get better, or at least not get too much worse. But nope, my life somehow managed to find a way to destroy that too, so that now even after the worse I can still very easily believe that somehow, as virtually impossible as it seems right now, there is always a way for things to get even worse. Pessimism at its very finest. Thank you life.

I feel insanely alone. I feel like 99% of my most meaningful personal connections have pretty much vanished for all intents and purposes. Sure, that's mostly because of all the bridges I seemed to somehow burn. Even so, the efforts that I have made to reconnect with people on any meaningful level have been largely unsuccessful, but it's probably still my fault. I'm done with hopeless attempts to reach out. Or maybe I'm tired of having to do all the reaching out. Maybe that's why I'm writing this here. Maybe it's a cry for help of sorts. At the very least I know it's being communicated. Maybe that counts for something.

I wish I could see how this experience will make me stronger in the end (assuming there is one). But I don't. The old me would say "not yet at least". The real me says that's bull.

I can't see the bright side the vast majority of times. There is no light at the end of the tunnel always there to guide me either. I can't just suck it up and push any more than I already am. I'm tired and extremely weak. There is no easy "fix". I just wish there were more people who could understand that and so they could stop indirectly insulting me and knocking me down even further with their ignorant assumptions. Maybe then there would be more people I could actually trust with the truth of what I'm going through and I wouldn't feel as horribly alone. Again, there's probably no one to blame but myself.

I don't even know what I was really trying to communicate anymore. I guess I just wanted to point out the fact that I'm in extreme pain. That's all. Why? I don't know. But there it is. Is it stupid for me to be this honest on a public internet blog? Probably. Oh well. Maybe someday I'll look back on this and see how far I've come. Or maybe I'll look back at this and laugh because it only gets much worse from here.

P.S: There's no use worrying about me. Worry is for problems yet to come. My issues are here, and they've been here for quite a while. The disaster's not looming. This is it. If reading this arouses some sympathy, thank you for your kind thoughts. If it causes pity, then that's fair too. If you read this and shake your head in some mixture of confusion, disappointment, or just plain disgust and dislike, I don't blame you.

Silence (LOA)

I haven't written anything here for a long time. Sometimes it feels like I haven't actually done anything for a long time, like my life has been frozen in some giant tank and been simply preserved. That's not exactly true, there has been a slow (very slow) sense of evolution. But it's definitely been a surreal three months or so. It's as if everyone around me has been moving at lightning speed toward something I couldn't understand anymore. They've been living, enjoying, struggling, working, going somewhere (or they at least didn't mind not knowing for certain that they were actually going anywhere). It all became utterly incomprehensible to me.

It's a good thing that I've had that giant preservation tank (a.k.a a family supportive enough to let me do what most people consider to be "nothing" with minimal judgement) to let me just freeze my life into place. Had things been different I don't think I would have been strong enough to deal with the pain and confusion for much longer.

I considered just ending this blog altogether. The purpose of it was well meant, but in reference to my first few posts I obviously missed the target on what it was I really needed this break for. If I had started this blog earlier than I did, there'd be a lot more to write about, and it might have been a bit more exciting.

But things have been different. Instead of unleashing some kind of potential or pursuing passions that had been restrained, this break became a needed (as in, emergency) escape. I came dangerously close to the edge, and had I not put an end to the path I was going in I'm afraid I may have arrived at a point of no return. Not a good place to be.

Once upon a time I had ambition, I had passion, I had the will to live a life beyond what I was allowing myself to live. That is what "breaking chains" was all about. I allowed myself to be encapsulated into a very narrow way of thinking and living. I allowed myself to be brainwashed into thinking that the right way was to follow the path laid out for me and so many others. I knew I had to break out. I knew the risk was great, but the rewards would be immeasurable. And I knew that, ironically, not taking that risk would doom me for certain. And that's exactly what happened.

My decision to take this time off came about half a year too late. Perhaps out of fear, I allowed myself to continue on that precarious path, trying to carve something of value out of the inside of my continually self-reinforcing prison cell. But the cell became a torture chamber, and the walls too thick to get out of safely. I had to blow my way out and settle for a severely injured version of a free me.  In other words, I decided to continue business as usual and start my junior year like everyone else, which, even with some positives, yielded disastrous results to my well-being.

I may not be making much sense except to those extremely few people who know a bit more about what's been going on with me for the past one and a half years or so. I've gotten used to not really making sense to a lot of people, at least concerning my most inner (as in, most of my) thoughts. (I guess I could also clarify if anyone was interested but confused and wanted to ask.)

All in all I decided to continue posting here. This blog has become sort of symbolic in reflecting my life over the past few months, so I knew I couldn't just leave it empty. Not now that things, promising things, are starting to stir inside me (and out). Life goes on and I guess so will this blog.

Maybe my future posts will be more exciting, but this isn't necessarily a promise of better times. I am free, but I am as vulnerable as I've ever been. I've hurt the very people who've been closest to me, people who in many senses I probably owe my life to.  All I know is that I've been through the darkest days of my life, and very recently the absolute darkest, but I have also begun a gradual climb. And though I'm weighed down by the guilt of wronging those who've shown me nothing but love, I am strong enough now in my resolve to know that letting it stop me would be a disservice to those who have stood by me despite it all.

Maybe it's time for the original intent of this leave of absence to finally be fulfilled. It's been a slow start, and it's going to continue to be for some time, but the standstill is over.

I'm being careful to keep this from being overly optimistic too soon (I've set myself up for failure like that too many times before), but damn it I'm not going down without a fight anymore. I don't yet know what exactly my resolve is, but I don't care anymore. I'm going to keep going; that's it.

Though perhaps undetectable, either by an unknowing observer or aclosed off mind... (LOA)

There is always something stirring beneath the surface.

Regardless of judgement.