Wednesday, 3 July 2013

Todays been good

Dug out this old thing I wrote down a few months ago. I don't feel like this today at all, but It's important to remember where I've been so I can focus on not going back there.To be honest I'm having a good day. Cycled this morning, did some reading and worked on some other stuff I had to do. Actually started looking into some charities to volunteer for too because someones gone and put the idea into my head. I even had time to write a love song. Okay, that last one was obviously a big lie. Not that I haven't done that before.

Here it is. Probably with spelling mistakes and bad grammar. I don't care.

Do I have an affection for depression? I always looked on it as something edgy and cool. Marlon  Brando behind a cigarette, like it was the depression that might get me the girls. Up until now I thought for the most part it was a chemical problem. But it's not. There are some deep rooted anxieties lying within me. I'm not living, I'm breathing. That is the difference.

I sympathize with some of the character traits of my depressed self. I take some morbid joy in the way it makes me feel about people. Usually love interests. I project myself as the dark hero in a story of unrequited love or passion. But it's not the way things are. That's a transcendental perception of my illness. It doesn't stem from a spiritual desire to monopolize pain to spare others. It's a fatalistic outlook. A way of viewing life as starving me of essential nourishment.

People say you control your own destiny but that is not entirely right. We are what we are when we're born, not a blank canvas to be painted in the fashion of our desires. We all have basic functional abilities that get developed unconciously through young life. So to say I can be whatever I want doesn't work for me. The best way I can attempt to emphasize the point is to say I can't be you, I can only be me.

Of course there are many threads interwoven together to make up the complete picture. I'd take up on such a thread as my childhood. We grow up reading about people reminiscing about happy childhood memories. Christmas, birthdays or summers. But for me I don't remember ever being a happy child. In fact, I don't have that many memories of my youth and any that I do, tend to have negative connotations. I have read that people with strong memories of their childhood tend to be those with positive and happy memories. For instance, I remember when I was around 10 years old that I cried because I didn't want to get older. Already frightened by the future without really understanding why.

Another factor in my story, although a few puberty affected years later, is my absolute certainty that I was clinically depressed by my mid teens. The first thing I did after school was to sleep for hours on end. I was always smart but really an underachiever. I got into mild trouble. Spending hours walking in biblical rainstorms was another favourite of mine. Never went to discos. Played golf with the men instead of the boys my own age. I look back on that time with a huge amount of regret that it wasn't detected then. How was I to know? I thought I was just of a sullen disposition. I needed help then but never recieved the succour I craved.

I shouldn't blame others for that though. I would have tried to hide it, I'm sure. But a large part of the pain is the time wasted between then and now. I really am no further on. It's said that the most long lasting and vivid memories elderly people hold onto are of the time of their late teens and early twenties. I'm not sure I have any that can withstand the passage of time. Would I have been happier if I had never been born? All I can say for sure is that I would have preferred to have never been born than to have to kill myself. But who's to say what that even means. I don't know what, if anything, lies beyond the borders of that first and last breath.