When depression seeps into one’s soul and mists the mind with sullen thoughts. Depriving the body of its will and motivation to do, existence becomes a dark cloud that floats without any sense of beneficent direction or will to fight.
Depression is that loss, not of creativity, I can create when depressed, but that loss of doing something with it. Depression does not takeaway intellect, it doesn’t make you ‘stupid’, but it does make you feel stupid, fake and an unnecessary cog in the vast universal machine of other cogs.
Cogs that do not interact with other cogs. “Do they want to interact with me?”. They rotate just out of reach of each other, their teeth, will they bite, will they intermesh or will they break me, or I them.
Mixed metaphors do not ease the dark fog of depression, they bounce back and show you how you could be, then how you really are.
It’s all a farce of course, a pantomime, all the world is a stage and everybody players, “Depression is behind you”. “Oh no its not”. “Oh yes it is”. I’m the backend of the pantomime horse and I want to be the front, or not to be the front, that is the question.
Most people with depression are actors. they wear their stage persona that allows the world to see what it wants to see. The mask is a mirror, it reflects back what people want to see, they can handle that. Ah, but takeaway the mask, let them see the real face, the real you and they…. depart! The real you is not the replication of the portrait of Dorian Gray, it does not proffer the scars of depravity and licentiousness to be seen by the world, only the scars of ones lack of self esteem and worth. My portrait would be of a small child saying “Hold me, please just hold me”, but that time is past, the adult hasn’t learnt to be held, he is rather suspicious of things like that.
Am I being indulgent here, should I not publish this blog. Will people want to be trained, coached by a flawed individual?
I can only trust they will.