Connective Cube

I cringe at the memory of the drill.

A huge part about experiencing depression, for me at least, is bouts of self-neglect. Sometimes this manifests in becoming very externally driven, but without all the right tools to not totally push people away.

Meeting people reminds me to take care of myself. Brush my teeth. Shower. Other people go through this to. It is a mantra, a string the spiritual belief web. I used to go deep with people.

Now, I find that my adult self could get into more trouble than it is worth to sling my quirks on the chopping block.

The guardedness is a cycle, one that breaks with time. I am now okay with that now, as it really and truly is none of my business what people think of me, especially if that guard stays up and I am not giving it my all.

Of course, it is my business if I am hurting anyone.

***

There was this one time I imagined this girl hated me in high school. A runner with a technical mind. She avoided me. I only really spoke to people who approached me and poked me out of my tent. I didn’t have an issue with her, but I hated her because I thought she hated me.

One day, one of her friends sat next to me after class. This was someone I played competitive tennis with at 13 and softball at 11 and 12. Mom drama made me keep my distance from this person.

The friend asked me why I hated the runner so much, and didn’t make an effort to be her friend, since she was new and all.

It took many years to realize that people regard my guardedness as a sign of dislike. It took even longer to stop attributing other people’s shyness and anxiety into a binary headache.

***

anyway.

Speaking of brushing my teeth, I admit I didn’t do that all too well in my younger years. Even at a young age, I neglected self-care in order to work more, do more, sleep more, mope more, act more, jump more.

This turned into drink more, work more, walk more, go out more, crash and not want to talk to anyone once I got somewhere in my early and mid-20s. There were many sweater teeth crashes in a drunken stupor.

Drinking shirks the guard, if temporarily. I pay for it now, with many fake molars in the back that still crush too much chocolate and hot bread.

One of my quarter life crises was finally going to the dentist while I had insurance at a full-time job. This was before that mandate went in that anyone under the age of 26 could stay on their parents insurance. I was 26 at the time.

The previous year, I attempted to go to the dental school to get some deep fillings. At a dental school, you pay a nominal fee to get a lot of dental work done by dental students needing to fill their practice requirements.

I was attempting to go to The Peace Corps too. At least, that is what I told employers. Working in schools in Brooklyn and Queens made me realize there was plenty of work to do here. But that, and the immense amount of work I would need on my teeth and my lack of insurance situation at the time working three part-time jobs made me realize going to help people far away was an expense, a benevolence I could not afford.

______

I think there is a general melancholy now, an intense fear of knowing what happens, historically, when people fight back at the emergence of a potentially facist regime.

(My spellchecker in WordPress doesn’t recognize facist as a word. It’s alternates include racist and facets).

For those of us prone to introspection and depression, I say let us challenge ourselves to be out there, to not abuse substances, and to forgive ourselves when the guard is stuck. It will unstick at some point.