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Blogging is dead.

Friday, August 12, 2011 , Posted by Unknown at 12:02 AM

The Glorious Return of Bradd's Blog!
Or so it goes.
In my mind.

Maybe you noticed all of my little BS blog posts lately. (I mean, I wouldn't put money on it or anything, I feel like blogs are kind of 'over.' There's a few really high quality ones, which are essentially what we called 'web-pages' before the whole self-authoring trend came along. Then facebook brought user-generated-content to the masses in a real way, and twitter filled in that whole in the internet that all the anonymity of the digital age left behind. So now, here, in the digital-social age, is there really a place for blogging? Even though it seems like I'm leading you towards a solid 'NO', this is all really a theatrical trick just to make your head spin when I say 'YES'.

Yes.

There is a place for blogging in this digital age, but not on the casual level. No one cares about what new trick your baby did that every other 10 month old will probably do give or take a week. No one want's to see more pictures of my dog. If they do, they're not going to go searching the wilds of the nets to find it, they're going to go to their social network of choice and ingest as much as they can handle. Social media is now an all-you-can-eat buffet, with dishes prepared by the world's top content-providers. If you disagree, then the problem isn't the media, it's the people you socialize with. Go get some smarter friends. Seriously.)

Oh wow. That was one hell of an opening aside... The actual post I sat down to write should begin here any moment...

So I don't really like to admit this but I'm a little bit crazy. If you don't really know me that well, you may want to go look elsewhere for entertainment right now, as this next bit may be a little intense, and not really in sync with the title of the blog proper.

Or not. I don't really know, I haven't written it yet, have I?

Yeah, so crazy. Not in the fun, playful, "That Guys is so crazy!" usage of the word, but more along the lines of "On the brightest of days, I can see only shadows." sort of way.

I've never wanted to be sick. I have an irrational fear that it is possible that people will automatically assume that any revealed weakness is a crutch, a fall-back used to cast off responsibility. Then again, I don't think anyone would accuse me of seeking out responsibility.

The point is, the last several years of my life have followed a pretty predictable cycle, and I seem powerless to break it. It goes something like this:
1) Realize that the things I love most about life have become dull and uninteresting.
2) Admit to myself that I'm depressed, and was mentally blocking the possibility for fear of appearing weak.
3) Get help (in the form of Anti-depressant and Attention-deficit-disorder drugs.
4) Everything is suddenly better.
5) 5-6 really great months go by.
6) Decide I don't need medicine, Look how good I'm doing!
7) 2-3 months go by, each getting progressively worse. In the end, feeling secretly bitter towards the people in my life who care about me the most.
8) Go to Step 1.

So yeah. For those who are interested I'm on Step 3 as of yesterday. In a shocking change to my life's order-of-operations, the Psychiatrist that I randomly picked off a list of providers suggested I meet with a Psychologist. I've only spoken with one a few times in my life, and the bottom line was "You're clinically depressed, admit it to yourself, and get help." This time though he suggested that I was addicted to Anti-depressants and should talk through it.

I don't wan't to argue with a trained professional, but is that even possible? And how can you suggest that a person who hasn't had an antidepressant for the better part of a year is addicted to them, AND THEN WRITE OUT A PRESCRIPTION FOR THEM?!

In all reality, I'm sort of amused by the contradictory nature of all this. So, I'm going to go along with it. I've got an appointment with a real-life shrink in a week, and we'll see how that goes. She called me on the phone today to schedule, and I told her flat out, that I wasn't exactly sure why he'd suggested Psychotherapy. I've never suffered any abuse, never lost a loved one, I have a healthy-happy relationship with my immediate family, and have my dream job. The bottom line here is that just about every single member of my family has been treated for clinical depression at some point.

Maybe there is a deeper answer here that I just don't see. Have you seen the movie Limitless? I'm willing to believe there is more potential locked away in each of our minds, just beyond reach. I'm all about self-improvement and learning new things. That's half the reason I spent 10 years in college. (The other half being wild-impulsiveness, and the inability to pass up adventures like backpacking in Thailand, and being a Snowboard Instructor.)

So we'll see. And I'll probably blog about it. Even though blogs are dead.

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