Even more depressed. But I still don’t care.
Because fuck it. This too shall pass. I am clearly dealing with some heavy emotional shit right now and the best thing I can do is just let things unfold naturally.
Maybe try to help a little by doing what I can to open myself up emotionally and try my best to just let it all out.
I probably need a good long cry. If I was a woman, and thus a lot smarter about emotions, that’s what I would do.
I would get a sad movie, a box of Kleenex, and a pint of some especially naughty kind of frozen dessert, and I would cry till I was all out of tears.
Possibly with the help of some of my friends via Zoom.
But no, I’m a man, and despite being a liberal homo intellectual who rejects the patriarchy and doesn’t feel constrained by traditional gender roles and considers themselves gender-fluid and all that good stuff, I am still a product of a fucked up society that teaches men to suppress everything and that therefore has a serious case of emotional constipation even on the best of days.
No wonder men’s suicide rates are so much higher than women’s.
So while I have been able to bring out the tears now and then, it’s still not easy and I have to fight through a lot of bad social programming to do it.
Ergo, I don’t do it nearly often enough to keep up with demand. And this despite the fact that I always feel so much better when I am done.
If profound feelings of joy and relief aren’t enough reward to keep you doing something that you know is good for you, I don’t know what is.
And clearly, I don’t.
But what the hell, I will lay down in bed and give it a shot later. My emotions are pretty close to the surface right now (yay!) and so now it a good time to try to break my tears out of eye jail.
I hope that the geological forces of my personality keep pushing things to the surface and forcing me to deal with them.
I have these moments where I can focus my anger against the depression and draw on my deep well of pure balls to the wall defiance to inspire me to overcome my limitations.
Because fuck you, depression. You don’t own me. You don’t control me. You’re not even a legitimate part of me.
You’re just something that happened to me for a while, and is going to stop happening me real soon now.
Before too long, this whole last 30 years of my life will seem like one long troubling nightmare from which I am thankfully waking up.
And all these bad years will be chased from my mind by the light of dawn just like any other bad dreams, and everything will look better in the morning.
No matter how dark the night is, dawn comes anyway.
More after the break.
The things I do to myself
Why o why am I so smart and yet so stupid?
Ordered in again tonight. Pizza Hut. Pasta. Alfredo. Yum.
But the journey I had to undertake to get it from the door to the apartment to in front of this a-here compubox was painful and stressful and probably downright dumb.
Stupid is as stupid does, I suppose. And I do stupid.
I really need some sort of handler. Like I’m some kind of exotic animal that is not from this climate and therefore needs constant care in order to remain healthy and to keep it from trying to eat any wiring it can get to.
Behold the Fruvous! A marvelous and exotic creature with an almost human-like intelligence and an inexplicable tendency to be able to comprehend and discuss the deepest mysteries of the universe while at the same time looking like he was dressed by a squad of cranky hobos, and getting lost in elevators.
No wonder, then, that he’s the only one of his species known to science.
In fact, the most baffling thing about him is how he survived this long in the wild.
Debate on the subject is lively, mostly revolving around two main theories : sex. and pity, with “cuteness” a steady dark horse candidate.
Free to a good home. Relatively low maintenance. Great with kids. Gets along well with other pets. A very vocal breed, but will hush if asked nicely.
Excellent companion animal. Needs little exercise, very loyal and affectionate. Always up for a cuddle on the couch or flopping out at the foot of your bed.
Makes an excellent guard animal, though his method of subduing intruders may shock some potential owners.
Not recommended as a service animal. Means well and is very eager to be of assistance but a tad too clumsy and clueless for the role.
And so forth and so on.
Man, am I prone to extending metaphors!
Haven’t had that cry yet.
Part of the problem with the path of least resistance is that it far too easily becomes the path of least effort, and that’s far less healthy.
Easier is not always better, damn it.
The real theory behind the path of least resistance includes not resisting the urge to act either. The natural flow of being a healthy embodied individual naturally leads to action based on emotion.
Depression introduces a highly unnatural resistance to action which stifles the motive force of the individual and makes even the simplest of tasks difficult because it is as though you are from a planet with much weaker gravity and from your point of view, you are walking around plated in thick lead armor.
Armor nobody else can see and that you can’t explain even to yourself.
You just have to accept that you are sick and must act accordingly.
Take care of yourself. Be gentle with yourself. Forgive yourself. Don’t be afraid to make yourself feel pampered and well cared for.
After all, you’re worth it.
I Will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.