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Come down from the mountain you have been gone too long

http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4754681137/

so i have dysthymia. always have. it’s basically like this chronic fatigue depression, background sadness noise. normally i am very good at fighting and coming out of it and i think i’m pulling out now. i know i know oh my god shut the fuck up. i cannot believe the reactions i’ve been getting out of some assholes. suck it up and shut up is the general consensus. do you think i am fucking enjoying this? having a ball? the normal things i fill up my life with to distract myself from this just stopped working and i was forced to confront how miserable i am like everyday people. the rose coloured glasses permanently came off. my mid-twenties breakdown came a little late is all. i’ve been operating as a 21 year old for a long time now.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4754681359/in/photostream/

even though everyone thinks she’s a dink for that thing she wrote when that other author died, read elizabeth wurtzel’s depression-account of prozac nation. the entire book essentially is what lying under a very thick elizabethan dark dining hall rug feels like. you just lie down forever in your misery. it’s fucking brutal. a drunk is much like a depressed person. stubborn and stuck and there’s nothing you can do about it you just have to let it wear itself out. not even an intervention can shake it out of them. i have a few people in my life i cannot even tolerate they irritate me so much with their glum but their glum is the stupid and useless kind whereas me, at least i blog and share it with the world. i force myself out of it and produce piles of literary garbage everyday. whereas they just produce garbage. there was a point though where i couldn’t write at all, which is when i was on lithium. if you check my archives it’s all in there. nothing for days then one line about going to a movie and what i thought about one insignificant part of the film and that would be it and i’d stare at the computer for a solid hour and just sigh. mind completely blank and desperate. i lost myself to that medication. lately i felt like i was coming to that being again and that’s why i’ve been wigging out about it. that was the worst time of my fucking life.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4755321446/in/photostream/

anyway, i still have been making an attempt to join the rest of the world and go through the motions. it gets better everyday.

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this cowl scarf thing what amanda (mailing your tshirt when i get home) made and sent me helped. we had cottage weather in the city two nites ago. last nite too a little bit but not as bad as wednesday nite.

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i drank a ton of tequila at reposado and then ron sexsmith showed up and kept me company. i heard that he is a very sad man. i didn’t tell him how sad i was we just sat. before he arrived a crew of suburban ossington freaks in denim arrived. all these lame people discovered ossington not too long ago and it’s turning into their little outsider night’s on the town disneyland i fucking hate it go away!!!! i feel partially responsible for helping that one suburban guy i was banging in on the secret. balls.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4755322118/in/photostream/

ron doesn’t even have a phone. well, he has a landline but no cellphone. i appreciated that as i punched his email into my blackberry. i had his email already in my gmail account but it’s one of those addresses that aren’t the person’s name so there is no way possible to dredge it out of the blackhole what is my contacts in that thing. i felt like the world was a very nice and small place having ron wedged in like a prisoner in the corner pocket of the reposado bar against the wall. a small place where there are no cellphones or contact to any other people and here is this talented famous sad musician being nice to me and no one even knows.

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i was sitting with this bloke and i spied ron and i said to the guy do you like ron sexsmith? and he chortles out I LOVE RON SEXSMITH and i say oh hi ron and hug him at that exact moment the guy almost died right there it really was perfect. i told ron i think this guy has fallen in love with me. how terrible for him. you know when someone is falling in love with you and you are telling them how bleak everything is and they are just liking it more and more and you’re like fine if you’re in love with this person then here it is. i can’t control the effect i have on people. sometimes i am electric and lovely and my dark perspective on things, appealing. muse-like. i noticed that some people’s lives take interesting turns upon having ever met me.

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i realised that i liked hanging out more with my dad than my own friends sometimes. i was worried we were going to have to discuss how miserable i am. he was good about it. classy and subtle.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4754683105/in/photostream/

i look like hell after work. speaking of, i had to deal with a real crazy straight off the bat first thing yesterday. he made me feel mentally ill. he was a drunk and i made a judgment call (oh yes smartserve passed with flying colours) and cut him off. then another girl had shots of tequila two at a time and forced me to kinda humiliate her on the patio in front of everyone that she had had enough. she was chatting up chris gostling and i was trying to make a face at him like dude watch out crazytown but then i figured he’d make that conclusion on his own so i went back to being slammed and serving people. oh right back to the suburban people at reposado wasting great tequila pounding shots like that. soo dumb! you sip and chase with that spicy tomato juice. better yet are the vodka soda orderers. you DO realise you’re in a tequila bar, yes?

so the crazy guy i had to cut off booze-wise was mostly his conversation i needed to cut off. i said i had to go into work-mode and we had to stop the topic of our conversation because it was exhausting me and i was relating too much. he wa a little manic. i’m pretty vulnerable right now also i enjoy doing roll-ups (cutlery) by myself so i can think about shit which is hard to do when a guy is laying his life history of mental illness out on the line for you. i wondered if it was of my job requirement to listen to this crap. no not really if it’s interfering with my work. then of course he gets all defensive and hurt and wounded and i’m like look buddy i just can’t talk right now. he asks for my blog and i say no and he goes well i thought it was out there in the public and free for all. yeah it is but i’d just like to exercise some boundaries and space between myself and customers. jesus give it a fucking rest. i’m getting angry now about it.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymilauren/4754683337/in/photostream/

creme brulee sliders. vanilla dark choc and mango. dad barely helped me what a liar when i was ordering. they were delicious. de-fucking-licious. they’re not called sliders on the menu, that’s just my drive-by white-trashing. paradiso is supposed to have this chintzy high-end sheen to it, it always seemed so elusive to me as a kid. now i don’t give a fuck. don’t let snooty intimidate you. just stroll on in and start making demands. that’s how i do.

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tapas plate. there’s delicious grilled shrimp in there too. we loved it.

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caught all the fireworks and beat it out of there before everyone else could get to their cars. ruled. then we came back here for pimm’s and backyard. i think it’s a little warmer out here though can’t know for sure. time to hit the backyard. xoxxo.

oh one more thing, zero tequila hangover. also, zero chambord hangover and i combined the two. tequila is a skinny booze i think too. bonus.

on the way home last nite i asked my dad if he at least had ice made (he does, thanks to me from last week) and i said oh yeah you have that bag of stoner ice. party ice. total stoner ice. i’m hoping to make that term catch on.

Nicky says, “Hi raymi, you probably don’t remember but i used to
email you every so often about 7 years ago, when
i was bored at my terrible call centre job. you even got
back to me a few times..

i just read your article in the NP and thought, gee i
wonder if she is on FB, and here we are ten
seconds later.

it must be nice to have the NP call you a notable
torontonian! kudos!

a friend of mine said they saw you at some awards show
at a table with BTO or something like that, they were
more excited to see you than everybody else at the table!
ha..

anyways, hope you are doing well for yourself and
now we can be FB friends if your up to it..

bye for now!

nicholas

ps – i just got out of jail <--kidding..........".

19 thoughts on “Come down from the mountain you have been gone too long”

  1. I’ve got dysthymia too. until I got help I felt like I was in constant downward spiral. i’ve been on Wellbutrin for the past three months and it’s done wonders. your candour towards depression is great to see. i was getting the “snap out of it, life can’t be that bad” trip from everyone. i can’t count how many times i had to hold back from saying “trying being in my goddamn position THEN tell me to snap out of it!”

  5. Someone told me last night that tequila is the only liquor that doesn’t have depressant qualities? And gin is the worst of all of them for depressing you. Going to google that now.

  6. I’m cyclothymic! Yay! Well, I didn’t get myself diagnosed, I’m pretty highly functioning for the most part, but you know when you know your brain is a chemical rollercoaster. I think we should hi-five or something like that. Those creme brulees look fucking fantastic. I hope to run into Ron Sexsmith one of these days. I’m pretty good at running into people. This is awesome stuff about your dad. When I had gone manic, the fathers in my life were a wealth of relief. Maybe old guys understand madness better? Maybe? No, Maybe our pops’ is jus’ crazy.

  7. A little . . . well, a lot jealous that you know Ron Sexsmith. I’ve loved his music for years. and I hope you know (at least a little) how much you brighten other peoples’ (okay, my) day. even these tough posts are brilliant and moving.

  8. I can’t stand when ppl say that or have that attitude, whether it be towards me or somebody else who’s depressed or has been before. It’s one of the most hurtful things you can say.
    When you break a leg or get sick you can’t and don’t “just get over it”. They don’t call it mental illness just for the fun of it. It’s a real thing and it really hurts just like any other physical illness.

  9. Ossington St bars = Black Bloc feeding grounds as those from ronnies069 comb their hair and learn to expect clean bathrooms. Ronnies is still worth the trip if you are already at Ossington and dont care for ‘enough’ toilet paper. Heck, they even have grilled cheese delievered (10 outta 10).

    Cheers! or maybe “cheer up!” if you would rather hear that acidic-honesty we all seem to love but hate.

  11. Your way of coping would be interesting to some in the mental health field. Might help them redefine or at least reexamine what being functioning, or healthy means. Some get labeled with a title i.e. “batshit crazy” or “bipolar” or “dysthymic” and believe that label defines them completely and they act accordingly, allowing the given title to debilitate them. Like idiots who will say “Oh I do that/this because I’m a Cancer, or a Gemini, or an Air sign” Like they have no choice.
    I think you are a lot of things.
    I think you are a lot of things.
    But you are not a complainer. Even when you call yourself one. You’re a fighter and you’ll be alright. You have your own little force about you.

    “Everything has a force. Embrace it or Deflect it, why Oppose it?”

  12. I agree with poison

    you come from a family of fighters. Don’t let any label define you.
    Had lots of fun tonight with you. Your a good kid.
    lets do it again soon.
    Love mom oxoxo

  17. I appreciate your rawness and realness when you talk about your depression. It really hits home for me.

    And I think it’s wicked awesome your mom post on your blog :)

  18. Yo. The people appreciate that you’re out there grinding even if you’re not feeling so good.
    It’s inspirational.

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