Saturday, October 27, 2007

I'm sorry

...about the long silence. I didn't forget.

It's really astonishing to me the difference that dysthymic depression makes in my life. It's not what usually termed "clinical depression"; it's something different and wholly more insidious. Rather than a crushing, smothering coat of wet concrete that leadens and suffocates, it's more like... well, like ADD with a dash of bitters. Dysthymic depression, for me at least, tends to take the form of lethargy and demotivation. It's not exactly an inability to focus, just... disinterest. I still have my passions, my pet causes and my hobbies, but when it comes to actually applying myself, to stirring myself from comfortably, numb routine, I'd rather go play video games. I'd rather not deal with it.

I have this percolating stew of ideas in my head, perhaps more vigorous and sharply focused now than they've ever been. I want to, I need to get them out. The energy is there and the purpose is defined, but somewhere in between the mechanism is disconnected. The pistons are pumping and the wheels are free, but the driveshaft is broken and the steering is locked up.

The clarity with which I can perceive this condition now is astonishing to me. For years I had no idea if I was ADD, stupid, or just lazy. My high school and undergraduate GPAs both wound up, if not in the tank precisely, then certainly well below what they ought to have been, and I came away from the University of Texas with a single BA instead of the BA and two BSes I really wanted. (Now, I'm not trying to excuse my dilatory negligence by any means; I am who I am, and any conditions I have are simply a part of me. If I fail, I fail; there is no "I failed but...")

Anyway, I suppose that all that is a roundabout way of explaining that I haven't been updating because I haven't cared enough to update, and that, ultimately, I haven't cared enough to update because my motivation is broken and I was allergic to the medication that came close to fixing it. Hopefully, I'll soon have an opportunity to try out another class of medication that will help even more and, ideally, not make me break out in hives and suffocate.

Incidentally, I hate being an "allergic person." I never had any allergies whatsoever before I came to this city, you know, and now that I have at least one, I feel frail and vulnerable, like at any moment someone is going to shoot me in the heel with an arrow smeared with crab and cochineal. I do not enjoy having a weak point in which I can be shot for massive damage.

More on my own personal Green Revolution coming soon.

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