Depression - Depression is one of those things that a lot of people have. You can't begin any D section without it. Unsurprisingly, given that this is my blog, and my list, I tell you that I have it. Release the balloons. I began the new millennium with it. Fireworks now, please. How I ended up in a tiny office isn't so much of interest as what came after, which was, really, a form of rebirth. I consider myself six. For the first time in my life I was capable of reaching through that incapacitating haze that had surrounded my life and was conscious of making decisions. Choices. It's strange to think of it, or of having lived for such a time that you can not remember such things, and rather that you just drifted along, just went with the flow for life, no matter what came. But there you go.
Delight - Everyone has that something that brings delight. Just being around it, just being in the experience, it makes you feel better. It gives you place. Most people have more than one of these, and in this, I am no different. But the one thing that I constantly delight in is my friends. My friends are like my family (and sometimes, so are my family).
Depression - I don't make a big deal out of being clinically depressed. Take the pills, go through life. This is because I can go through life. I've never been institutionalised. I've never had over two hundred dollars worth of medication. I've never been unable to afford my medication. I've never found myself completely unable to get out of bed. I have never parked my car in the garage and taken a hose and run it from the exhaust and into the drivers side window, trying to gas myself. I have never been fucked up in the hundreds of ways that you can be fucked up with depression. On the scale of things I'm lucky. A handful of friends and people I have known over the years have not been. So I don't make a big deal out of it--in fact, it's only come up on this blog once before--and instead, I just try and keep myself good. Some days are, of course, better than others, but that's the nature of it.
Death, Part One - As I sit here, thinking about death (I wrote the entries before I wrote any), I have to admit, that the first thing I wrote was, "What we all get." Yet, the more I think about it, the more I think perhaps this is untrue. The afterlife attempts, by its nature, to render death a not so scary thing, and suggests that life goes on afterward. That's probably why the Death card in a Tarot deck is about transition and change and not the end of things. Personally, I've no real big, intense theories about death. You end there in the end and I've always been fine with that. I don't fear death, I don't want it, but I've got a passing interest in how we, as people, deal with it. Maybe it'll get bigger. I have a more than vague interest in death culture, but I've never really had the time to follow it as much as I'd like. Well, maybe. Anyhow, this is a misdirected, lost entry, so lets sum up: Death. It's time for a t-shirt.
Death, Part Two - If reality based death is difficult to explain and understand, then what about fictional death? Why, for example, do we feel sad when a character dies in a narrative? Is death such a tragedy that the mere occurrence of it in any setting is cause for sorrow? Possibly not, due to our happiness with execution and eating animals. Is it, then, that the act of dying becomes the tragedy? That in a narrative our emotions are given stimulation only when we encounter the right kind of death, the death that has weight--we can watch and read and imagine hundreds and thousands dying, but unless that act is giving the right amount of tragedy, we will fill nothing. Still, even with that happening, isn't it faintly ridiculous that we mourn the fictional death of a fictional character--and if this is not ridiculous, then does it make our mourning, however faint or forceful, fictional?
Depression - The key, I've found, is a mix of pills, activity, and keeping my mind of things. Whenever I find myself slipping, I rustle up a bit of work, either paid or volunteer. Generally speaking, it has to be something that I can use my head in, because while straight out manual work is good for someone, it allows my mind to wander. Sometimes good, sometimes bad. Reading is also good. Writing. Video games. Watching a movie. Something to engage the brain, which has never been all that much, but seems to be where the problem lies. Living with depression is all about self management, I've found.
Delight - My other delights are words and music. I love what words can do so much that I try and make my working life, my creative life, and my personal life, connect with them. And I love music to such an extent that I don't do this. Only certain delights can withstand looking behind the curtain and picking at the seems and meeting the people. Others are better off with the curtain drawn, the seems not looked at, and myself firmly in the audience.
Depression - The great cynical amusement of my life is that countless people line up to tell me that I have a negative mindset. I don't know what I'd do without hearing that weekly.
Digital Photography, Repeat -