“There will come a time gigantic waves will crush the junk I have saved / When the moon explodes or floats away, I’ll lose the souvenirs I made…”
— Mark Linkous, “Sunshine”
One of the beautiful things about depression is it’s inconsistency, well, at least at face value. It has it’s moments where it just kind of hangs around behind the curtains, seizing it’s opportunity to re-emerge whenever it feels the time is right.
For example, on this particular night, I went with Brianna and her friend Alex to Irving, so we could indulge in the aquatic tresspasses of her boyfriend’s apartment complex. Brianna listened to my goings-on of the last few days, providing feedback and siding with my ideas, whether I wanted her to side with me or not. Typical Brianna, but I enjoy her two-cents on matters at hand, so it’s all good. I got a Frosty out of it too, which was especially nice, since I hadn’t had one in quite a while and it was something I was actually looking forward to.
Alex, her friend who we picked up in Dallas, is just as sharp of the tongue as I am, which was interesting to me. Intriguing, perhaps? Either way, the banter between us made for some pretty entertaining auditory soundtracks for the trip out to Irving, especially since my loathing of Josh Groban gets ever so stronger the more I listen to him.
Anyway, poolside trespassing took place, and we were eventually caught by the “pool police”, who I admit, I was quite the dick to. After leaving the pool, some conversing took place and I changed clothes in the breezeway of one of the buildings, then we left to return to our respective locales.
Back to my point. From the time Alex got in the car to the time she was dropped off, I showed no signs of being in a depressed state. Typically when I’m in the company of others, my depressive signs are hindered. The exceptions to this are Brianna (to an extent), and Gabby, who has been my source of sunshine in the last few weeks.
However, I let Brianna into my head a little bit more tonight on the way back to Lewisville, cautiously conversing about my feelings toward myself an how I wish I could go back and do certain things differently.
For example, way back in the Spring of ’06, I had an offer to intern at Sub-Pop records in Seattle, Washington. Why didn’t I take it? A relationship I was in at the time. Sometimes, I go back and wonder what would have happened had I never decided to be a “professional skateboarder”. I got my 15 minutes of fame though. 15 minutes into learning how to ride it, I fucked my shoulder up.
Because of that problem, I was never able to finish massage school at the time I actually was interested in pursuing it. Six years ago.
Wow, it’s been that long?
Perhaps, that’s a good time to start looking at where the “snowballing” occurred. The downhill slope of my life began around that time, but that’s definitely a story in itself.
I could ramble on and on about the events that have defined the person I am today, but for this particular tirade, I feel that focusing on the clashing ideas and feelings I have toward myself is a more suitable way of getting my points across.
Keep in mind this list will probably be incomplete to an extent. My brain is only working at about 80% of my normal capacity and I’m also busy trying to keep myself in check.
Bear with me.
I am a person full of guilt. I feel guilty for things that I even did to better the positions at that particular time. I feel guilt for letting my desires get the better of my judgement. I call guilt the “heads you win, tails I lose” situation.
I have burned a lot of bridges and thrown a lot of people under the bus in these last few years, and while it is a good thing I recognize these pieces, and feel remorse for them, it’s also serves a counter-purpose. Since I am unable to process my thoughts and feelings constructively, they eat at me.
To an extent, burden sits hand-in-hand with guilt, and several other aspects of my personality. I feel that because my decisions have landed me in the shark-tank I currently swim in, the fact that I have to rely on other people for even some of the simplest tasks is burdening to them. This burden does, at times, manifest into guilt.
In many, many ways, despite one of the ultimate outcomes of all this bullshit becoming some heralding form of “narcissism”, I am also a very self-hating person. I am overly critical of a lot of the decisions I have made, and the negative ones outweigh the positives. It’s so difficult for me to remember the positives, as they are sporadic and typically are a precursor to negative events that succeed.
4. Addiction and dependency
I used to drink excessively and ingest more pills than a pharmacy, smoke more pot than the hippie, and indulge myself in a buffet of other hard, soft, and odd drugs. This ends up becoming a piece of my personality that I have a hard time understanding, presumably because I see it more often than the others. I kicked the tale of the tape on my own, even with those around me still indulging.
However, I still crutch hard on cigarettes. Why? Because I think, at this point, I have to crutch on something. Without cigarettes, I tend to crave alcohol and pills and their buddies harder than I would otherwise. It’s a savage circle, a twisted web of hate, vulnerability, and prejudice.
Yeah, I’m stopping at four.
It’s like having a backpack on, and every time something negative happens, you add a brick. However, it takes several (usually consecutive) positive events to remove a brick. You kind of follow me?
If not… oh well.
Maybe it’s fitting that I identify with the artists and creative minds I do. We all share something in common — being chronically depressed. Hence why, if we were all to be sitting at the same table, the conversation would probably be pretty deep, on the assumption Mr. Wilde was even interested in having it.
Musically, however, I think I identify the most with Mark Linkous.
The man of 1,000 emotions — very few, of which, are positive.