Don’t read too much into the title, it’s randomly picked from the contents of my brain at this exact moment.
Hi there readers! Have I mentioned how much I love you all lately?
’cause I do!
Today has been… odd. I wasn’t aware of feeling depressed, and yet this afternoon, I had a hell of a time getting out of bed. I laid down after lunch (even though I was not tired… first sign of a problem) and drifted off for an hour or so… but when I woke up I just could not face getting up and going to the computer to do a video.
So I lolled about in bed until 5:30 PM or so. That is ninety minutes past when I usually start my video-making. It felt distinctly like I was hiding from something, and I am not sure what, except just…. life.
My life. My life that bores the hell out of me and makes me feel all trapped and lonely and crazy and confused. There is definitely something going on deep inside me, instigated by the lowering of my Paxil dose, that is going to take a while to resolve itself.
It is an elaborate re-balancing of forces and as such, it is a tricky and delicate operation that is largely going to happen without my conscious input, so I guess it’s kind of like waiting for a wound to heal.
All you can do is wait for your body to take care of things while you try to stay as healthy as you can in order to speed the process along.
I am definitely feeling like my current creative outlets are inadequate, which freaks me out a little because I am at a loss as to what the hell else I could be doing. What could be a greater expression of my enormous creative potential than 1000 words and a video per day?
One possible answer to that will be happening next month, because November is (Inter) National Novel Writing Month, known as NaNoWriMo back in the old neighborhood, and that means I will be hard at work writing my third novel. That should soak up all the creative potential I can throw at it, at least for a while.
This time, I will at least attempt to program some time for editing and proofreading into the process, so that at the end of the process I will at least have decently clean text. It might seem a little crazy to be adding editing to a process that already asks for 1667 words per day of fictional prose, but even though fiction takes a lot more out of me than my usual chatty blogging, I think I can handle it.
My only worry is the usual one, that if I try to look back on what I have written, my inherent emotional instability coupled with my fragile sense of self will cause me to lose all faith in what I am doing, which would be mighty inconvenient in the middle of writing a novel.
Also, not sure if I will be making videos during NaNoWriMo or not. I suppose I could get cute and make each day’s video consist solely of me reading out what I wrote that day. They say that reading your work aloud is a great way to make sure everything flows properly, so you know… two birds.
Speaking of which, check out this dude’s amazing discovery.
Un fucking believable! If I made a discovery like that I would be so stoked. I would go half-crazy with the excitement of discovering this whole secret apartment underneath my own and I would immediately have to explore it, poke around, and look for more secrets.
After all, there could be anything in there. Hidden treasure. Dead bodies. Dead bodies wearing hidden treasure. Dead bodies hidden IN hidden treasure.
The possibilities are endless!
Of course, they probably won’t find anything that interesting. But the mere possibility of it would have me pumped up for weeks.
And I would totally renovate all that space down there to be more livable. Some couches, some chairs, a lot of throw rugs, and of course LIGHTS, and that could be one cozy little dungeon.
Perfect for those BDSM get-togethers!
Another fun find : a website that asks you the question… IKEA or DEATH?
More specifically, it asks you to identify whether a word is the name of an IKEA product or the name of a death metal band. Cue Ed Wyatt!
Of course, it’s more or less random, or at least, the best you can hope for is an educated hunch.
Unless, of course, you have an encyclopedic knowledge of either death metal bands, IKEA products, or both. In which case…. this is the quiz you were BORN to win, big guy!
Oh, and finally, of course, the silly thing I did today.
Perhaps my creative outlets seems inadequate because, like I said before, I am in the midst of a painful artistic growth spurt where what I want my art to be is just out of my reach and I have to sort of grow in its direction, like a plant growing towards the light.
If so, the transition phase is a real bitch. But like Churchill brilliantly said, if you are going through Hell… keep going! Don’t stop because all you can see is Hell in front of you and behind.
Keep moving and you will find the way out eventually.
That requires faith, though, and depression makes any kind of faith difficult. Even perfectly logical, absolutely indisputable faith like “this can’t last forever” (what does?) or “my problems are not unique” (whose are?) can ge crushed under the boot of depression and its inability to believe in that which is not immediately evident.
And that’s what faith is, right? Belief in the unseen. In a sense, it takes faith to believe in Paris if you have never been there.
For all I know, Paris is a myth. Everyone is lying about it. There is no such place. It’s no more real than Wonderland, Narnia, and Shangri-La.
And yet I find it far easier to believe in Paris than myself.
The struggle continues.