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Generic post title [Feb. 9th, 2017|05:24 am]

Originally published at The Homepage of Michael John Bertrand. You can comment here or there.

Dunno what to blog about tonight, even though I had a ton of great ideas during the day, when I couldn’t do anything about it. That’s how it goes, I guess.

Feeling sleepy and vague. I am making it through the day but sometimes I feel like not even really here, or anywhere for that matter. I feel like I am nothing but the echo of the reflection of a shadow’s thoughts.

Like I exist only on a technicality.

I know that’s the disease talking. I’m as real as anyone and it’s the darkness of my depression which makes me feel so unsubstantial. The feeling that I have that night has fallen in my soul and dawn is impossible far away is merely the product of a chemical imbalance in the neurotransmitters of my broken and battered brain.

But then again, all our experiences are merely chemical in our minds, when you really look at it. That kind of reductivism only gets you so far before you have to reset your parameters and try a different path.

Maybe that’s why there is only so much rational reason can do against depression. The real solutions are spiritual, not mental. The bare truth of the chemical imbalance is exactly the sort of solution that mere reason can deliver.

It’s both perfectly true and completely useless.

The only real solution is growth. The spirit must explore and expand. That’s a tricky thing for a ramrod rational  cerebral type like myself.  All of my instincts are wrong for the task. My primary mode of dealing with the world is to throw my mental might into finding a solution. To conquer the problem with mentation. It’s oddly like solving every problem with physical force and violence like a brute.

The only force is that it’s the brute force of the mind.

I have a concept of emotional growth,. I tend to think of it like sunshine making a plant grow. The right conditions and the plant flourishes. The wrong ones and everything withers away and dies.

It’s winter all the time in my soul.

But without any sense of the mystical – with a soul so bound by the rational as to be practically moribund – it’s hard to know what will make me grow.

Then again, maybe the need to know what I am doing instead of simply flourishing on my own terms is the root of the entire problem.

Or maybe the real problem is how I shrink away from the light when things get too intense. Winter may not be warm but it’s very quiet. When I finally get the kind of warmth I so desperately seek, I am as like to flee as I am to stay and grow.

What I desire the most is also what I fear the most. No wonder I am so messed up,. I am desperate for positive input but when I generate it myself, I run away from it.

I mean, how good can it be if it comes from me? I’m poison. Toxic. Radioactive. Tainted.

I hate that I can’t stop hating myself. I know that I don’t deserve it and yet I can’t stop believing it. I really do loathe myself most of the time. I try to keep my self-esteem afloat with knowledge of my writing talents, but while I have all the evidence I need to ascertain the truth of my strengths, when it gets this bad inside me I can no longer believe in them because I can’t feel them at all.

Depression disconnects me.

And that makes me want to disconnect from life. Call a full retreat and hide from the world in a deep dark hole with all my distractions installed, and wait for it all to be over.

Wake me when life stop being so scary and hard.

At least I am keeping up with my school work. That’s good because I am going to have a lot of it. There’s only two weeks (plus tomorrow) of class left, and that means it;s crunch time. There’s so much to be done looming towards me.

So it’s good that I have at least gotten to the point where I can do the work to keep up with things. I was pretty far gone there for a while. Really lost my grip and feel back into old patterns of crumbling in the face of adversity.

That never really works. No matter how hard you submit to reality’s attacks, it will never really let you get up, turn tail, and run away. It will never accept your surrender and leave you alone. It will always keep on attacking.

Because it’s not a person.

I feel a great sadness inside, like a cold sticky mass that clings to my bones and drains all the life out of me. It kills everything it touches and its chill goes right to the very marrow of my soul. It’s killing me, and in a way, I am letting it.

Perhaps I am addicted to its ability to make emotions go away.

Maybe I need a medication change. Or maybe I need a year of therapy. Or maybe all I need is some full spectrum light bulbs.

I did feel a lot better when it was sunny yesterday. Make my whole mood slump is the product of not enough sunshine in a very literal way.

Or maybe I am just plain fucked.

I have been doubting my ability to survive post-graduation lately. This whole VFS thing might end up being a waste of time and money. If I find life so hard in my current mode, how much worse is it going to be when I have an actual job and have to pull myself together for eight hours a day?

And I feel so slow and stupid and old. It’s so hard to think lately. I feel like my head is full of ice cold tar.

There must be a door out of this slow hell somewhere.

There must be a way to let all this coldness out.

I will find it some day.

When I have the energy to go looking.

And the freedom to grow my soul.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.