"I guess I have a lot of problems, so many that I don't have time to go into them all in detail. Suffice it to say I'm anal, obsessive, vain, quick to temper, overly introspective, lazy, judgmental, insecure, and self-righteous. Probably the most annoying thing about me is that I'm hugely opinionated. But I kind of make up for that by always being right."

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Day 79: Is That Still All There Is?

I'd like to take a moment to respond to some comments I've gotten lately to some of my more recent blog postings.

First, why is it so hard for people to understand that not everybody is like them? Just because you've found a path -- a way to experience some kind of lasting happiness in your life, doesn't mean that others are blind or stupid or stubborn for not seeing that path too. In fact, others do see the path -- I see the path -- it's as clear as fucking day to me! My boys are playing on that path -- their laughter so sweet it brings tears to my eyes. The air is touched with the scent of pine, and birds are chirping. Beautiful women tread softly there, waiting for me to pass by and steal their hearts. Trust me, I see the path. I see it every single day. But I can't take it. I've spent 54 years trying, and I can't drag my sorry ass up the damned thing. And if you think that I think I'd be "happier" if I had more money or more fame, you know almost as little about depression as you do about me.

There's a scene in some old John Wayne movie where he cures some kid who stutters by yelling at him to stop stuttering. That's how people feel about depression these days. "You've got money and the love of your kids; you're healthy; just get over yourself already." "Other people have it a lot worse than you." "Stop dwelling on the bad stuff." "Count your blessings." "Just be thankful for the precious gift of life." "Look around -- there's plenty to be happy about!"

The problem is -- the obviousness of these little pearls of wisdom only serves to make the depressive even more depressed. It's much more frustrating to not be able to grasp something that's right in front of you, than something that's far outside of your reach. Long story short -- I'm b-b-b-broken. So get off my b-b-b-back.