Up until recently I thought the path of self-destruction behaviour was a linear one. Down the hill, sort of speak. Up the hill, and then down again. I’ve come to realize in these past few weeks that that assumption is flawd. The path turns out to be a circular one. Round and round as a clockwork.
Somewhere along the line of that circle you lose things. The clock seems to be a little more off every time it goes round. Maybe it needs a good swing every now and then. I do worry if maybe it needs replacement.
Depression is a chemical problem, they once told me. Please take these pills to support your effort to grow in this life. What they failed to understand is that depression and the chemical balance in the brain is also a matter of energy. And that the preservation of that energy requires a balance between what goes in and what comes out.
The big evil in this life, is that by the time you realize that far too much is going out and very little is put back in, you’re too drained to turn the tables. Turning those tables – in all it’s goddamn irony – requires an amount of energy you don’t seem to have left.
I have worked very hard to overcome a number of problems, all courtesy of my wonderful addictive personality. I thought I was out of the woods. I thought that tackling a few of them would give me enough breathing space to keep on living the good life with just a few skeletons left in the closet. That turned out to be yet another incredibly flawd assumption.
The interconnection between what we often call seperate problems (say, an eating disorder, a drinking problem and a drug habit) is a force to be reckoned with. You might even respect that force enough to say that there is no such thing as separate problems, but one big problem on it’s own. The only breathing space you create by eliminating a few, is space for others to thrive.
One man told me over ten years ago that there are two options: live a short life depressed and disordered. Or live a possibly longer life with the daily struggle of taking meds, eating your food and following a daily plan to keep yourself on track. Back then, I voted for option one without hesitation. Today, I still do sometimes. That is depression.
I believe in karma, and the next life after this. I believe that the struggles you fail to overcome in this life, will be waiting for you in the next. I sometimes wish I believed in heaven or hell after death. The idea of going to eternal hell and damnation after this life seems infinitly better than the idea of going into yet another life. This is not a theological conclusion.
This is also depression.