When my CBD flares up, it can be like negotiating a narrow causeway that divides two unsane and ineffective ways to deal with negative experiences. One side is the dark quicksand that makes all the world's craziness my problem(s), and the other is a superficial, escapist flight from responsibility and effort.
My jerkbrain loves misery. It wants to kill me, and misery is a great tool to accomplish the job. Acute misery can end in self-destruction to end the pain— woo-hoo, mission accomplished for the jerkbrain. Misery that isn’t acute enough to accomplish self-destruction can still be lethal over the long haul.
Miserable states, though, consume a lot of energy.
When I first went on medication for depression, I believed in the magic: You take this pill, and the depression just goes away. Then you’re better, everything is great, you don’t have to think about it or change anything else in your life.
Like an addict learning the hard way about cross-addiction and relapse, it took me a long time to grasp that’s not how it works.
In lifelong recovery from a chronic brain disease,Terry lives in the U.S. Southwest, and actively pursues several hobbies, including confounding assumptions, extreme semantics, and damage control.
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*"Teritas et factum convertunter"-- roughly translated, "One can know Terry only by interpretation." (More literally, "Terry and reality are interchangeable.")