Air it out.

{scroll down to begin at the beginning}

Well G___,

Thanks for the terrific response, even if some of it was smoke-blowing and all that nonsense, it still does good. Even if only for a split second. Winter sucks the life out of me, the love for my fellow man, the will to move and lift heavy things and not eat crap, any desire at all to be at my really depressing house that is really isolated and draped in slush and snow and at the end of the really long driveway which busted my oil pan for the second time in a year last month, and which I finally got to the shop after driving cross-country in it, and about which I got a call this morning informing me that I also busted the rear oil seal on that last bout with the driveway rocks, which means another part and approximately six hours of extra labor. Sob. Vehicles are depressing sometimes.

So now I’m sitting in a cafe in Athens pretending that I’m getting something productive done (I’m not, but for communicating with you, so), avoiding home life 2 1/2 hours away in my teeninesy town by hanging out in my boyfriend’s town (he’s in grad school here), trying not to eat too much (this morning I coughed up GOBS and gobs of green gorilla glue that refused to wash down the drain until the water was hot enough to scald, though I feel fine! too much sugar, I think). Should I write about my mucus production on my blog?

The thing is, I don’t want anyone I’m around to know anything real about my life. So that now also keeps me from writing anything worth a shit, because if I don’t have an audience I don’t want to write, and the only thing I’m good at writing about is the mundane absurdity around me.

And I guess it’s not just that I don’t want people to know anything, it’s just that it’s not worth it. Nobody deserves a window into my life . . . how depressing. Even more, I don’t want people to judge me so I just keep them the hell outta my bizness.

I don’t want to get any older. That shit sucks. Especially as a woman. This existence is so WEIRD. WHY are we HERE? WHAT the fuck are we DOING and how does everyone keep walking around and being motivated to procreate and work and produce shit and get straight A’s when it DOESN’T make any SENSE??? Thank Allah they do, so I can keep being useless, but still. I don’t get it. So when I say meds, I guess I was thinking less anti-depressants (which I’ve learned are only truly “effective” in about 10% of cases, in the severely depressed) and more like ADD stuff. I just want the easy way out at this point. Out of aimlessness, of uselessness, of being a pointless consumer of pointless shit. And of course, I know it’s still not a ticket to productivity, but I’d try anything at this point for just a little boost in the right direction…

(but I also know what it has done in the past is simply turned my inner monologue outer, and in a way I guess that could help, but my best thinking is really done on paper, not out loud to a captive audience)(I mean, rapt)

You know where I went wrong? All that stupid reading I did. I read non-stop as soon as I could, and I could hardly be pried away from unreality to write history papers or perform calculus or anything (though I did love playing sports), and the real world just became something to be experienced from the third person. I’m not buried in books anything like I used to be, but I think with everything it gave me it also took something away. I think it might be some form of PTSD, possibly. I experienced so many other people’s violent rapes, cancers, car accidents, deaths of their own children and parents and siblings, genocide, rabies, comings of age, retardations resulting from child abuses, amputations, house fires, schizophrenia, wars, galloping consumption, adultery, and so on, that I can’t get these things out of my head. I’m paranoid and depressed because the human condition is horrible. I love people, I love human interaction, but at the same time I think we’re completely irredeemable. We are a sorry ass species and we deserve to die for what we’ve done and continue to do to the world around us, the people, the animals, the plants, the oceans, ourselves. Often I sincerely believe that depressed people are the only sane ones. When I went through my own period in the depths, I truly thought that the suicidal were the only people who truly saw reality. I knew that at that point I would have to start pretending again like all the normal people that there was a point, simply to start functioning like all of them again.

So how does one hold a job that requires passion, or pursue a dream, or write a book, if this is what she believes? I’m not even “depressed” right now (but I probably would be if I hadn’t just been on the road for a month), I just live in the head that thinks these things. I just want to be in too many places at once, and nowhere fully. I want to have meaningful work (but how does one become a health coach when they believe the above?–though in a way I believe in spite of it all people can at least halfway redeem us by simply being less oblivious/more aware of the damage they’re doing, and that tends to go well with a conscious lifestyle) but I can’t figure out what kind of work will make me happy enough to sustain the passion to pursue it.

At last you feel compelled to write. I envy that. I’m sure we both have things to envy about each other, of course, but the main thing to envy about anybody is drive, as far as I’m concerned. Lack of disease is probably also a good one. I’m sure plenty of people envied Hitler for his motivation, even if he was a shithead. Maybe only shitheads are sincerely motivated? (Whatever makes me feel better, right…?)

What’s truly keeping you from getting a job? Where are you living right now and in what kind of situation?
You could write a children’s book with that black and white drawing stuff (is some of that done on the computer? It’s neat) like you did in your book. It would stand out from the others, and I’m sure it would be a kickass one…

Okay. I guess I have to bring myself to bring this to. a. close. and try and pretend to do something else that will ultimately lead. to. nothing.

Shit.

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2 responses to this post.

  1. Posted by Curly Sue on January 26, 2011 at 2:17 am

    I think your writing is simply fabulous. Also, I enjoy reading about people’s lives… even if it’s simply mundane.

    Reply

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