The difficulty I have is writing about what I’m feeling without seeming melodramatic, but saying something is better than saying nothing. Here goes. Eve Sedgwick captures the feeling when she writes that what she fears from depression is
I may stop knowing
how to like and desire
the world around me.
Regarding a previous post, Heidi asks, “What does traction feel like, vs. drifting?” Traction feels like caring about something, like motivation, like hope in a future outcome more desirable than the present situation. I currently don’t have any of that.
Denise asks, “Why not create something that provides the traction that you need rather than waiting for it to come to you?” And the answer is, Because right now I have no idea how to do that. But rather than stay in my living room 24/7, I’m doing my best to go out and do things in hopes of finding something.
Here’s an open call for suggestions: I will do the first five things that are suggested from the first five people to post comments to this entry. Seriously.
Buy yourself a nice big bouquet of fresh flowers and put them someplace where you can easily see them from wherever you’re most often sitting.
Take about a mile-long stroll in a place you like at the beginning or end of your day (brain clutter-b-gone) :-)
Sheri beat me to my suggestion! I would give you permission to loosen any length or time restrictions for the walk. :)
So my suggestion is to take at least one photo. Of anything. You don’t have to show anyone.
Begin a dinner group. Start with at least three other people. Each person is responsible for a theme once a month (or make it every other week).
Pick a (local) destination and drive there. Alone. Go into pokey little shops and browse. Eat lunch at a diner and watch the people. Stop at the tourist traps and the roadside markets. Buy yourself an apple/pear/peach/plum.
When depression hits, words get stuck. Thoughts get stalled. The light gets dimmer and the layer of fog muddles our vision. Spending time away from home, watching humanity as it passes, while thinking to myself “As happy as these folks seem, each one of them has problems, perhaps smaller or bigger than I have, but (sorry, R.E.M) Everybody Hurts.
When I realize that I am not alone, that I can call a friend or vent melodramatically in a personal journal or an email to a best friend, I feel an unburdening, and the solutions become closer.
Damn! I didn’t know you were blogging again! I still think you should go with my suggestion – and no, it isn’t my typical “whoring around” response. Share a long intimate hug with someone followed by a deep sensuous kiss and remember that we are all lonely and drifting through life much of the time despite the masks we wear that offer the world a contradictory view as though we all knew what the fuck we were doing and doing it with confidence and style.