For the millionth fucking time, I’m depressed. I live in one of the best places in the world, and here I am crying into my wine. This time for a variety of reasons, (my boyfriend of one year refuses to talk to me right after I went to the mental institution twice in one week, or that my meds don’t seem to be working at all, and my job is falling apart…. to name a few), but mainly it is fueled by that underlying layer of self-doubt, Fear, and sarcasm.
What does one do in such a situation? Wait for that life saving mania to come along and make the world beautiful again, just to be dropped on my head after a few weeks of rash decisions and late nights? Sounds brilliant, I might even write something then.
I’ve reached a point where I am just about to give up on being healthy and am contemplating simply exploiting myself for internet points. I can still write about it, and yea, it’s cliché, everyone’s done it already, but what if my mental illness is somehow unique from all of the Hunters, Poe’s, and Hemmingway’s out there? It’s not. There isn’t anything particularly unique about a young woman losing her shit far from her family in a room she hasn’t paid rent on yet, in a city she didn’t fall in love with. Paranoid, and filthy, giving up on showers because “My hair still smells good” and “Nobody gives a fuck.”
Even in this state, I’m apparently still somewhat, if at least, mildly attractive. Broke, hungry, I managed to arrange a date with a different man each night for nearly two weeks in order to secure my daily meal. I still got drunk, I still got home, and I managed to forget things for nanoseconds at a time. Albeit these men, for the most part, were of no real interest to me, save for a few who promised to be platonic. And then others I went home with because they seemed kind and forgiving, but these men I sought out first.
Problem with the depressed mind is that she’s obsessed. I can’t stop thinking about the first offense, and send out text messages accordingly. I come off as a mad woman in a cage, trying desperately to fix something that isn’t going to get fixed. Especially if I run off and break myself some more. I need a pile of concrete to trust my heart in, concrete will be able to handle the mood swings, blatant self-destruction, and disregard for manners.
I need to assure myself that this too shall pass, and that all of my inane ramblings mean something to someone out there. Don’t we all do this though? We assure ourselves that everything will be fine, especially when they probably never will be. It’s dramatic, but it’s true, shit’s gonna happen. Things are going to get hard, really fucking hard, and those moments sitting on the back porch with a pack of lucky’s and a bottle of wine might be the only good times. So relish them, and learn how to relish in the hard times too. Learn how to love suffering, that’s how you get through it, at least that’s what I’m told.
An Argentinian man name Garmon, I’ve been teaching him how to play the clarinet in return for food, told me that you have to suffer through it. That he couldn’t help me, but that he knew how I feel. I believe him, you can’t hit 60 without learning a thing or two about suffering, about pain. Particularly the self inflicted type.
So, in a weeks time, I begin to improve. My chemistry begins to rebuild itself, to readjust to the new state of loneliness I’ve found myself in. I relish it, I learn to love it. That’s where I am. Accepting that I am a being that will always have times of lows, and highs, and that there isn’t anything necessarily bad about this. Yes, I am disruptive, all of us mentally disruptive folks tend to be. It’s in the title, it’s on the cover, “I am a mad man, here are my masks, take them for what they are.”
At the beginning of this writing I was in the pits of despair, a heavy load on my heart. The load, it has left me, with a hole that has to be filled with production. Unfortunately, the only production I know is ethereal in nature. The load, it left with a final “Fuck you.” I’m beginning to understand the nature of my disease, I suppose the next step is learning how to use it to my advantage, and the to the advantage of other people.