My father kept a picture of Jesus on the console of his car. It was the Anglo Jesus we Americans raised as Christians know so well, with the soft flaxen locks and the blue eyes. This was after the divorce, and I remember seeing the picture there and asking him about it on one of his weekend visits. It was to remind him that “God is his co-pilot.” He wasn’t always a Christian. I have vague memories of him explicitly...
Last Friday, like every Friday, we ate out. Summer hours are over at work, so I got home something after 5PM. I ordered pizza within a half-hour or so after arriving. We ate at about 6:30. Apparently, that is too late. I’ll spare you the details, but it was too late, and I fucked up by waiting instead of ordering ahead. So, this week, I tried my damndest to get the dinner on time. But, lo! I had forgotten I...
How do I write about something when that very something saps me of the will to do anything? Really, I should stop bitching about this and do something about it, right? Just snap the hell out of it and be a man, live life. Sure, you’ve got problems, but we’ve all got them, and you’re better off than most. You’ve got two beautiful girls, a good job, a roof over your head… … I just don’t care. Apparently, our toilet...
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3 responses to “Existential Depression”
this sounds exactly like me except for a few things;
1) im probably half your age…barely in my 20s…i entered the ‘mindstorm’ at a young age and couldnt get out of it. it was originally a release from a pretty nasty ongoing depression but made me crash when it wasnt backed up by any meaningful connections. my frantic pace of thinking only sped this up more. its been 5 years since i committed ‘equivalent suicide’ and finally got the guts to make a serious attempt. i failed but i mostly died anyway. its felt like about 50
2) i have this fire inside, this feeling that i was meant to do something gigantic, to keep fighting, to keep resisting. even though ive known its pointless BS for awhile that…stuff running thru me has kept me deferring on the side of trucking it out. which over time has eroded my ‘drive’ and ‘will’ to the point of like you said, mild ‘catatonia’. im the kind of person who has more than enough brains to manipulate the world around me to a significant degree, but not enough. my high social needs ensure that im stuck in that buridan’s donkey conundrum. i dont enjoy socializing with the people available but because im not the ‘sit by yourself’ type i crave it strongly. that and being stuck here. and that void inside me continues to burn me alive, though very slowly. i grew up without genuine emotional connections. i obtained one recently but it lacks the depth that i need. which is almost worse because you cant help but expect and demand better if it burns you so much. i think with enough ‘high value’ social interaction combined with emotional connections, i could survive if i distanced myself from society in general a bit. but such is not possible
3) i WOULD actually off myself but im afraid of failing. extremely afraid. im also afraid of intense pain or fear being the last thing felt. i want to go peacefully. these two things are probably the biggest roadblocks keeping me here. i almost feel as though if i did something short of a severe barbituate overdose combined with anti-emetics, I would ‘miraculously’ survive and would be completely fucked. i think despite the most peaceful ending my last ‘event’ would be an ear splitting scream of rage and frustration. because i dont want to go
and things were never supposed to be like this. the world was never supposed to be like this.
i have great amounts of knowledge which basically amount to ‘being able to make millions of dollars’ (literally) if i was not trapped in this borderline catatonic state. i have so many things related to making money and making it in this world figured out like clockwork, AND reality tested accurately. instead, im stuck rotting in my own little hole where the garbage and dishes pile up, along with endless half finished tasks.
im being pressured at this point in time to go the meds route, as you probably were many years ago. i also had a run in with tranquilizers (and still take them), and id say they bought me time, maybe a few months.
even if i find a med that makes life more livable, why bother? as much as id hate to do it, if i had a .44 right now id pull the trigger
by the way, you may find these ‘songs’ moving:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p52KnFg1pnU (requires high volume due to ambience, the guy in this outfit committed suicide two years later)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4zCZh2zz-9Q
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7sbURPlF-QQ
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mfhUfEPCBU0
I know what you mean, Brian, and I’ve felt like that since I was your age. Maybe part of it is a holdover from the child and teenage years where the entire world is you and you feel indomitable and like you could do anything, then the reality of adulthood slams you in the head and nothing seems to satisfy that desire. You’re always hit with realities and decisions and trade-offs that keep you from reaching what you believe is your true potential, if you can even figure out which potentiality that is.
I also identify with the fear of attempting but failing at suicide, particularly if what I value most — my mind — is lost or severely impaired in the process.
At first, I also held off because of my mother, then it was my wife, then my kids.
Now it’s just the kids. I brought them into this sty of a world and I’m responsible to at least make them happy pigs while they roll in its muck.
Do drugs work? I can’t say. I know that my most recent has had the worst side effects of any. Constant dry mouth, feeling high at work if I take them too close together, and worst — some erectile dysfunction. Maybe most people wouldn’t notice it, but I used to be able to go for longer than an hour and that ain’t happening anymore.
Anyway, alcohol has been the most effective anti-depressant for me, even if it’s technically a *depressant*. Not in excess, but a little buzz quiets all the noise of life and helps me just enjoy the moment.
I would advise against a *marital* commitment (as opposed to a long-term “unofficial” relationship) and certainly against having any children.
Meetup.com might help you find some like-minded people. I’m not talking depression and anxiety support in particular, but just people who share your interests. It really helps to have friends who know what you’re going through. Hard to find, but good.
Therapy has never helped me besides having someone to talk to who doesn’t criticize me, and when someone doesn’t criticize me at all, I don’t trust them, so it’s a wash.
Hang in there if you want, but I’m not going to deny you the desire I still have to just go to sleep forever. Life is a net negative, death is a zero, so I’d come out ahead by offing myself.
But then, I have those kids. Not that I’d care after I’m gone, but, well, I do now.
Even a gun isn’t certain. Apparently you have to do it a certain way to be sure. I’m terrified of trying a shotgun and just end up blowing away my fucking jaw and looking like the monster I feel like.
Eat, drink, and pretend to be merry. Maybe that’s the best we can do, and if we’re lucky, we’ll fool ourselves back to life.