Reply to post: Change is Hard

Change is Hard

I had undiagnosed depression from puberty until my late 30's. It warped my view of the world, how I interpreted everything around me, leading to equally warped actions and reactions. I desperately wanted friends and relationships, but was unable to sustain them, so I'd destroy them before it became obvious. As a person, I was a piece of crap.

I wasn't totally clueless. I knew I was broken, and I felt badly about myself, which often rose to the level of self-hate. Rather than deal with it, I instead wove extravagant lies to hide behind, to appear to be a better person, one people would like.

When I finally got effective therapy, cleaned out and organized my mind and emotions, I literally became a different person. The few people close to me noticed it immediately, and cheered me on. As I improved, I started emerging into the world, started to "have a life". Tried to renew and revitalize old ties.

Only to face the wreckage I had created. My therapy had dealt well with getting me right inside, but I went running back to learn how to deal with others, especially those who had been hurt by the "old me". The "fix" was deceptively simple: I had to become a master of the apology, and of forgiveness. I also had to become able to cope with anger aimed my way, to accept it without reacting in kind. Dealing with others was much harder than the internal work I had done.

All too often there was nothing left to be repaired: Many wanted to have nothing more to do with me, for a variety of totally valid reasons. They had a view of me anchored in experience and pain, cast in stone. This was the hardest aspect of my recovery to accept, and I never really did.

Others reaching this point in their own recovery paths will turn to religion, seeking redemption and salvation. For me, that would have been like trying to wash it away, rather than living with and dealing with it.

Change is hard. History is implacable and indelible. No matter how rosy the future looks, the present is where the future and past meet and mix.

I started to look at the bigger picture, and one thing I saw was that, had I been diagnosed and received therapy as a teen, much of the destruction would have been averted.

So, yeah, I started over-sharing, broadcasting my own story in the hope it would help others, a warning of the damage undiagnosed and untreated depression can cause. In part, it was also a public apology to those from my past I couldn't reach.

I'm lucky that I had a "medical" condition amenable to treatment. Many refuse to accept that racism can also be treated. Once a racist, always a racist. A racist past is a rubber-stamp for a racist future.

Typically, a racist (well, all of us) will also have problems other than racism. Changing one won't change the rest, no matter how they are interconnected. So even if the racism does change, there is little respite until the rest changes as well.

We need to always keep change in perspective. To help it along, seeing it as a process built from many steps, never a single leap. The perception of change can often come in leaps, a flash of realization when we add up all those little steps.

When I see change like this, I have a standard reaction: "Good on ya' mate! What's next?"