I feel incredibly low.
Its like those ads for anti-depressants on television. The ones where a stick-figure character is frowning for no apparent reason. A daisy pops up in front of their face, and they just brush it away. A little dog stick-figure comes prancing along, and they just frown even harder.
That’s how I feel.
Sure. My mother died. I feel lost. I feel mortal. I feel sad. But this just feels so clinical. Its as if nothing can create or alter another mood. Its just all depression, all the time.
And I’ve always hated that word. I’ve always thought it sounded petulant and “stuck” and closed-minded.
“How could someone really spend that much time feeling sorry for themselves?” I would think to myself.
But here I am.
Yesterday was better. God knows why…but it just felt better. Chanterelle and I went out to Berkeley to see “American Idiot”, a new punk-rock musical created using and inspired by their concept album (by the same name). It was incredible. The performances were energetic and invigorating. And the writing was so tongue-in-cheek. It was more of an opera, because there was so little talking. It had no intermission, and just went straight through for an hour and a half.
Before the show we went to a little student-targeted restaurant called “Creps-A-Go-Go”. The crepes were cheap and good. Our entire bill came out to $16.55 (with tax) and we had two dinner crepes and a desert crepe to share.
Yes. Yesterday felt so much better. For some moments I was beaming. I was smiling and felt excitement. And today, it is as if none of it ever existed. As if I might as well just give it all up. As if I’ll never feel anything but discouragement and sadness and pain again.
Of course I know things will improve. Things always do. But it doesn’t stop some part of the psyche from believing, whole-heartedly, that life in the doldrums will perpetuate forever.
Depressing enough for you?
