Monday, July 6, 2009

Things unsayable

How do you explain depression to someone? It's kind of like trying to explain the color blue to I pretty much don't try. It's hard though, at times. When someone asks you what you're thinking and the answer is nothing because your insides are dead. You get asked what's wrong, and the answer is -- in the way they meant the question, nothing. A chemical imbalance within the neurons of your brain. A misfiring missile. True, there are times when I feel it less than others, but it will always be there. Sure, I could go back on Prozac or some other drug system ... but to me, the benefit is not worth the risk. I'd rather be in touch with every fiber of my emotional frame. Besides, it is often depression which fuels great works for me. I am able to tap into the core essence of creative functionality. I had a problem while on antidepressants that I wasn't able to write. I was on like the lowest dose possible b/c the main purpose wasn't depression, and still it zapped me. Not worth it. In this world there are seldom things I truly can enjoy, or be proud of. My ramblings just so happen to one of those things, whatever they may appear to be to you. So I am restless, so I can't sleep except when exhausted. So I'm apathetic to life, and stare into the distance with a blank or somber look on my face. So I'm on a downward spiral emotionally, and probably will break soon. So what?

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