In July, Jester posted what Plaid's legacy is for him. Now, I'm going to share what his legacy is for me.
I have clinical depression. For those who don't know, clinical depression isn't "Well, today sucks." It's more along the lines of "I can't feel happiness because I'm not worth it." It's insidious, and often you can't tell you have it until you've gone...too far.
My depression has been slowly escalating. Some nights, I can't sleep. There are days when for no reason I can think of, I feel so angry I could break something or so sad, nothing cheers me. But mostly, I feel a complete negation of all the love I know (academically) is directed at me. I feel alone even when my wife is beside me. And then, there are the thoughts. The little voice that whispers how much better everyone will be when I'm no longer in the picture.
And that's when I remember Plaidman. Like me, he had a disease which seemed inescapable. Unlike him, however, I have resources I can turn to. And allowing myself to give in without even trying seems...cheap.
So, with him in mind, I met with my HR manager at work. She pointed out that even as a temp, I have mental health benefits (including 5 free visits with a counselor). I have numbers to doctors and a free clinic that can help me with FMLA.
And that's Plaid's legacy to me. To try. To remember that there are people who care about me. And in Plaid's name, I will.
Miss you, pal.
I have clinical depression. For those who don't know, clinical depression isn't "Well, today sucks." It's more along the lines of "I can't feel happiness because I'm not worth it." It's insidious, and often you can't tell you have it until you've gone...too far.
My depression has been slowly escalating. Some nights, I can't sleep. There are days when for no reason I can think of, I feel so angry I could break something or so sad, nothing cheers me. But mostly, I feel a complete negation of all the love I know (academically) is directed at me. I feel alone even when my wife is beside me. And then, there are the thoughts. The little voice that whispers how much better everyone will be when I'm no longer in the picture.
And that's when I remember Plaidman. Like me, he had a disease which seemed inescapable. Unlike him, however, I have resources I can turn to. And allowing myself to give in without even trying seems...cheap.
So, with him in mind, I met with my HR manager at work. She pointed out that even as a temp, I have mental health benefits (including 5 free visits with a counselor). I have numbers to doctors and a free clinic that can help me with FMLA.
And that's Plaid's legacy to me. To try. To remember that there are people who care about me. And in Plaid's name, I will.
Miss you, pal.
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