I have been in what could easily be described as a very deep funk for at least 18 months now.
Am I suffering depression – I have been reliably informed that I am … but I refuse to accept it. I recently read “Darkness Visible” by the late great American author William Styron. It had quite an effect on me – I am certainly not ploughing the depths that he did but I do feel akin to the notion that he had – He quoted Baudelaire … “I felt a breath of wind from the wings of madness.”
Yes I have felt that – During an episode of extreme inactivity and floor staring I began to picture shapes forming in the pile of the carpet beneath me. In motion were faces yelling silently in anguish while they constantly twisted over and amongst themselves. That was a few months ago now. While visiting my mother I became transfixed by a framed photograph of my brothers first child aged 2. Everyone who catches sight of this photo in my mothers living room feels compelled to comment on how happy and perfect a child he looks. But for some reason it filled me with a deep melancholy – his eyes seemed to radiate a knowing, a wise affirmation of time and the utter futility of it all.
Nobody else saw it – just me.
It filled me with horror to the point that I couldnt be in the same room as it.
Obviously I never informed anyone of these episodes – How could I!
I have become reflective to the point where it has damaged my psyche.
I have looked back on my life and I see it all as a series of stages.There have been 4 times in my life I have deconstructed my existence to vanishing point – I have thrown all my shit out, I have changed location and career, wiped all friends, partners and lovers from my horizon and started again. I felt compelled to do this almost like a survival instinct.
These huge events have always been prompted by what I like to term dropkicks to the bollocks – usually relationships gone askew. You know the kind of thing … women … need I say more.
But as I write this I wonder.
Perhaps this is my natural mode, my default setting. Depression. Maybe I havent noticed it because lets face it, I have self medicated often so to speak – and even that has been in stages. I had an ecstacy stage. I had an amphetamine stage. I had a pot stage. And I had an alcohol stage …Oh yes, I had an alcohol stage all right, several if I am honest.
I could discuss all of these in great depth but I am tired … perhaps in a future post … but I will say that they defined who I was at those particular times.
I am free of all of them now and I escaped them through my own grit and determination.
Note – I must NEVER touch alcohol again … no matter what the situation.
But thats where Im at … I have nothing, I am alone, I have no job, I see no future, I dont want love as its just another stage. The idea of a relationship to me at the moment is so far off the map its galactic.
My biggest fear at this moment however is this crippling ineptness. I cant seem to break free like I have in the past. Its like being stuck in quicksand.
I have a plan though. I do. But even in this state of mind I cant accept that I have – it will only lead onto another stage, another loss, another dropkick to the bollocks.
I do know these things though … Im a good man. I have never knowingly hurt a living thing in my life. I have morals. I am altruistic and not in any sense in a reciprocal fashion.
And Im a tough one to crack … I often wonder where it comes from – always at the last moment too.
It just needs to come soon.
To paraphrase Chuck Palahnuik – Your past is just a story, and only when you realise this you, its only then can you be set free from it. Perhaps it is this liberation that I seek. But its hard – I am cursed with a ridiculously good memory – shards of razor sharp recollection somehow cut me to pieces. Perhaps I will elaborate in future posts.
If ANYONE comes across this … Hello.