Mental Health – Let's Build Futures

Situational depression can be a real B*%#!

Seasonal Depression is a sometimey B^*#!

PMDD is an annoying B%^+!

Persistent Depression is a determined B&*%!

Major Depression is the Biggest B*%^!

I’ve experienced at least four of the five.

I’ve been sad for a while.

It was hard for me to come to terms with that because I did the cosmetic work to take care of the surface. Plus my temperament is a mixture of melancholy and whimsy.

Still, the sadness was on a spiritual level I wasn’t reaching; and one that had been a slow drip in a deep pond.

Sure I experienced seasonal depression but that doesn’t last long anyway, right?

Yea, I struggle with the onset of PMDD but as intense as it feels it quickly subsides as my cycle progresses.

This was a new experience of sadness I hadn’t known or hadn’t been paying attention to.

…

I always saw in movies the person laying in the darkness; boxes of food carnage in their wake as they struggled to move from the couch. I’ve read article after article on how extreme sadness could be debilitating. I thought back on my moments of sadness half relating and half thankful that I’ve never known the kind of sadness that made it difficult to move.

“Just get up” I thought…

“Go outside” “Do an activity that sparks joy!”

Then, early one morning after 3 hours of sleep (that had become my average), a heavy chest, and a staring contest with the ceiling that lasted at least two hours; I finally was able to say…

“Oh Fuck. I’m depressed.”

I had spent so much time berating myself for not functioning in the ways I thought I should be. Leaning into the toxic positivity that told me my emotions weren’t valid. I found myself hanging on by a thread only to cut it with my own negative self talk concerning my reality.

I was more than just sad.

It was no longer burnout.

It wasn’t just a moment.

At first, the thought of it frightened a part of me that didn’t recognize this flickering light I had become.

I cringed at a self diagnosis I’d been taught didn’t have a place in my black ass life. It especially felt out of place for the blogger, podcaster, motivator…it wasn’t “on brand.”

How could I be depressed and still be me.

Truth be told; the realization was freeing.

After I was humble enough to practice what I’d been preaching and step into my FULL truth, I found a sense of release from the part of me that said I wasn’t supposed to feel this way.

I did feel this way. I do feel this way.

My goal over the next few days was to lean into my truth; so when asked:

“Hey girl! How you been?!”

My answer has been simply and enthusiastically “Oh, I’m depressed but I’m working on it.”

Now, my very intact sense of humor finds joy on the faces of those unlucky enough to ask the question expecting a simple “I’m fine, and you?”

People don’t dare say those words out loud; they don’t dare admit it to themselves or others.

I watched as others scrambled to find words to patch something only I could fix.

But my own personal mission is two fold; I shamed myself for being depressed because as a society we shy away from any real discussions about it until we’re already on the other side of it.

I didn’t want this blog to be that. For another who is dealing with depression to read about how someone got over it. There’s power in just admitting and feeling in this moment. So here I am.

Feeling all of this shit.

I’m in it.

In admitting this to myself and others I hope to carve out a small space for those in my proximity who may go through this to be able to say “oh fuck. I’m depressed.” When I ask “hey, how are you?”

While I don’t think everyone deserves access to your truth I do take power in knowing that a discussion can spark from it and maybe the next won’t have to spend days in bed, losing hours at a time staring into a void wondering what’s wrong with them…

Education. Logic. Even all the spiritual practices I’d taken up were lost under my emotions and clouded by my inability to stand in my truth.

I don’t write this as a guide out of depression nor am I an expert but hopefully I’m a damn good – looking mirror if you ever need.

The first step. Admittance.

The second step. Acceptance.

I can’t fight anything If I can’t first admit and accept it as a reality.

Then, and only then, can I work on Step three…

Ass kicking this depression.

Builders! Feel free to share your truth with experiencing depression by commenting below!

Great sex after a hard day is indescribably wonderful.

There are so many mental, emotional, and physical benefits to shaking the sheets like lowered stress levels, improved job/life satisfaction, even headache relief. We could talk all day about the goodness a hefty orgasm brings us but I want to flip the script and discuss how sex is often used to combat things better addressed by other forms of therapy. Because sex can be therapy but it is NOT a real therapist.

Therapy Supplement

We use sex. When given the opportunity we let it be a distraction, stress reliever, a filter for our unfiltered emotions. We allow sex to be the conductor of our frustrations, aggression, and anxiety. Instead of using our words to discuss the argument, we choose to have makeup sex. We release our anger in an acceptable way with angry sex. We even use it to express that “I love you” we’re too afraid to speak or as a way to boost our self-esteem in feeling desired and wanted.

More often though, many of us use sex as a way to wax over the scars that we never pay attention to. Our sex lives become our primary way of dealing with difficult emotions that we’d rather not focus on. Hard day at work?…we hit the hay with someone we find attractive. We do this instead of exploring our emotions. We substitute talking for kissing. Crying for moaning. Cursing for…well nvm both use that one. You get my point.

Sex becomes our means of therapy but this form of therapy never heals the scars simply because it never even acknowledges their existence.

Having an inactive sex life doesn’t disqualify you from this conversation. There have been times in my life where I found myself avoiding sex as a way to “protect myself.” I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with abstinence or restraint but my reasons often highlighted my fear of opening up to others in any real intimate way. Because sex is an intimate act for me I use it as a gauge when dealing with others.

When we find ourselves using sex in copious amounts or avoiding it altogether we should take a minute to inventory our emotions.

The therapy of talking is just as cathartic as the therapy of bumping uglies.

Inventory Your Emotions

Take a minute to think about your current emotions. Focus on the “why” behind those emotions. Now, think about your sex life or lack thereof. Are you satisfied with the connection between the two? Is there a connection? Now think about the last time you spoke with someone you lay with about your emotions. Are you satisfied with that connection?

Sorry to be all up in your business, trust me, I’m all up in mine too.

Real Talk Therapy

Sometimes real therapy doesn’t have to come with a mountain of degrees. Real therapy could just be talking to another person about how you’re feeling and what you’re thinking. Real therapy is choosing not to stuff it all down and release it in the bedroom but to inventory your emotions. Expressing them through multiple forms of therapy including sex. Knowing when to knock the bedframe loose and when to take a moment to discuss your frustrations is an important skill. The therapy of talking is just as cathartic as the therapy of bumping uglies. Nothing replaces a need for a conversation like a conversation. Not sex, not video games, not even shopping. When it’s time to use talk therapy no other forms of therapy will truly satisfy.

sex can be therapy but it is NOT a real therapist.

As we get older, our ways of coping will only solidify themselves as habits. We should ensure that those coping habits are truly helping us live our best lives. Ultimately speaking with a professional counselor or therapist when life becomes too much helps to not only get us on the road toward a healthier life but a healthier sex life as well. No, sex is not a real therapist but sometimes you don’t need one. Sometimes you just have to be honest enough with yourself to know that your use of sex in blocking other internal struggles isn’t healthy.

When in doubt, talking with someone you trust gives you another beneficial release just like sex does. It’s all about balance. This conversation is meant to ensure that our sexual actions are intentional, fun, and only one form of therapy that we use for our emotions.

Let’s sex with a purpose.