God damn am I sick of having to swim upstream and uphill against a raging river of sleep just to blog every day.
I am spacing out for long periods of time as I try to blog this. It is so hard to concentrate. I feel like I am underwater and being tugged back and forth by the waves.
All I want to do is go back to sleep and hope to wake up more refreshed. Seems unlikely to me at the moment but I know that’s irrational.
Doesn’t seem like I have much choice, to be honest.
And make it double
(in a sad loser voice) Turns out I’m double depressed.
I stumbled across the term, double depression, yesterday and onviously I just had to look it up because WTF could that possibly mean?
Turns out it’s a complication of dysthymic depression. I’ve known I was a dysthymic depressive for decades now. I think of it as “long term depression” because instead of feeling really horrible for short periods of time followed by a recovery period, a dysthymic depressive feels pretty crappy all the time.
That’s a vast oversimplification, but it gets the idea across.
Double depression happens when the depression of a dysthymic depressive like myself worsens into a major depressive episode, The major depressive episode is superimposed over the dysthymic depression, thus “double depression”.
I dunno. Seems fishy to me. Why call the worsening of a disorder “double” that disorder? Seems both arbitrary and unnecessary to me.
It also smacks of oneupmanship. Like it’s something someone came up with in an argument over who was sicker.
“I’m way more depressed than you are!”
“Oh yeah? Well I am DOUBLE depressed!”
I don’t think I have ever had a major depressive episode. I’ve been extremely depressed, of course, and I have been suicidal for long periods of time.
But somehow I just kept muddling through. Never attempted suicide, never ended up in the hospital or the asylum.
And I would like to think that this is because despite all my problems, I have a deep well of inner strength that keeps me going no matter what, albeit at a very low level.
And that’s true. But that’s not all.
The stark and brutal truth is that I don’t fall into major depression because I know there is nobody there to catch me. I don’t attempt suicide because I know there’s nobody there to stop me. Never tried to get myself checked into the hospital or the asylum because I knew they would just ignore me and dismiss me like everybody else.
This is what happens when you grow up completely alone.
I more or less raised myself. I got myself to and from school alone. I did all my school work alone. I suffered and was depressed as hell alone.
I did it all alone. At this point, it’s hard for me to imagine anything else.
They say suicide attempts are a cry for help.
Well there’s no point to a cry for help if you don’t think anyone will hear it.
If I attempted suicide, I’d just die.
More after the break.
Burnishing my godhood
Welp, time to go on a big ego trip, I guess.
The truth is that I am vastly more powerful than most people. I have enough electrical potential in my talents, my intellect, and my charisma to power New York City. By all the standard measurements (read : reptile brain thinking), I am superior to most of the human race, at least on those levels.
And I have known this since I was five years old, and yet I have never been able to handle the idea because of the awe-inspiring level of responsibility implied.
And so it has never really been integrated into my concept of myself. It’s a lot less like a part of me and a lot more like something I own in that sense.
And the thing is, as this attached but separate part of myself, it scares the hell out of me. In some ways, I am afraid to even touch it. I have a deep and terrible fear of accidentally hurting people with it and that means I don’t use it nearly as much as someone with ambition and drive would use it.
This has to change. I accept that now. I have to move to a place where I enjoy and use my powers instead of fearing and ignoring them, both because that will be far healthier for myself for dozens of reasons and because the world might just need me.
That’s the ego trip part of all this. I have let my fear of falling to the delusions of grandeur seemingly implied by my abilities for far too long.
It’s clear that this fear, while not entirely ungrounded, is mostly used by my depression to keep me in its icy cold grip. It is a manifestation of a generalized fear of the world, people, having to be a grownup, and the like.
And it might just be that I have to go a little crazy in order to finally be sane. That I have to let my ego balloon go as high as it can so it can eventually come back down to a normal, natural, sustainably sane level.
And there are worse things to be than a raving egomaniac.
Like being a sad depressed loser with the powers of a god, for instance.
This transition won’t be easy, though. There will be a lot of scary thoughts about being superior to others and them being lucky to know me and all that kind of rot that I will have to wade through. Thoughts I normally suppress as hard as I can but that I can now see are blocking the path to my self-actualization.
So what the hell. Look at me, the smartest man in the world. Gasp as I demolish the delusions of evil people and speak powerful truths that rock global consciousness to its very roots and usher in a whole new era of enlightened policies and progress.
Also, I want money. Buy my stuff!
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.