Even the Best of Us
For well over a year, I have read the unparalleled blog, The Outer Life. The man who writes The Outer Life is one of the most brilliant observers of the human condition I've read - and given the volume of blogs I read, that is saying something. OLG (Outer Life Guy, as he's often called) is one of those writers who can casually make the most insightful comments and make it sound as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He may, for all I know, slave and fester and swear and scream to make it all happen, but damn - he makes it happen. I suspect that most of it is natural and just needs polishing, that bastard.

I crave new Outer Life, and when a new post popped up on my RSS feed today, I dropped everything and immediately went to see what fresh delights awaited me. His most previous post, The Rope, disallowed comment, and I truly wished to leave one. I have been to the edge of the abyss he was staring into with such distaste and boredom. I lived there for quite awhile and the blackness and I developed a mutual hatred of each other. What blew me away was that he is also living there - yikes and away, He's One of Us! Fuck me. The pedestal cracked just a tiny bit, but I think I love him all the more for the personality this human flaw added. I wondered: Did he debate whether or not to post such a terribly personal essay? Did he ponder what his readers would think of him as I did when I posted my When In Rome post?

Depression has such a stigma attached; so many of us suffer with it, yet are loathe and ashamed to admit it. There is something wrong with me!! All of these other people are leading perfect, happy lives with Meaning and Purpose and here I am on the couch with neither motivation nor desire to move. There are people out there white water kayaking and climbing the mountain because it's there. I am reading email, desperately wishing I were able to do anything else one second and the next not caring if I ever leave the house again.

Reaching the end of one's rope is, to be sure, a eye-opening experience. It makes one appreciate certain things and abhor others. It made me never want to be dangling from a frayed end again, although as soon as I climbed back up a bit, I got lazy again and slipped back down. "Damn", I mumbled in my thoughts. "Shit." I dangled awhile, paralyzed by my own apathy. "Fuck. I hate this. Too bad it'll never end."

Like OLG, I decided I was "better" on numerous occasions, as soon as the lethary wore off and my mood lifted, I was no longer depressed. Thank God that's behind me, now! Ho-ho, wasn't I a wreck? So miserable and pathetic. [I would shake my head at my own silliness] Wow. Ok, let's move on. Somehow, however, "moving on" never quite got as far moved along as I would have liked. Depression is insidious, slithering into one's ear with great stealth, silently coiling itself around one's brain before it strikes and BOOM! Squish. Stifle. Slouch.

I swear it's a lack of stimulation and adventure that causes this thing in the first place, and having it prevents me from seeking out stimulation and adventure and Jesus Christ how the fuck do I break out of it? With sound discipline, I imagine, a trait which I decidedly lack. If I were evading predators and hunting food and avoiding tar pits, I suspect I would not be depressed. I'd be alive. That sounds nice.

Shit. I've broken my cardinal rule - don't just babble on without a point. Alas, even though I do have my own sense of superiority (instilled by my upbringing, I suppose, and by my education - I hate realizing that,) I suppose I occasionally need to realize that I'm every bit as fallible as the rest of us, perhaps even more so. Balls.

I wish OLG the best of luck - I wish us both all the luck in the world.