What I do when I'm feeling utter despair is, I look at it and assess how much of it is mere desperation. Sometimes desperation can make you feel like Michael Douglas in Falling Down, and feeling like Michael Douglas in Falling Down is slightly cool if not pleasurable. Then I look at how much of it is ennui. Ennui is quite cool in a Dorothy Parker / Jean-Paul Sartre kind of way. So maybe my depression isn't all bad. Then, when you look at ennui, some of it might be melancholy. Melancholy can be cool, like Acker Bilk. Maybe about 60% of that melancholy could be wistfulness, like a yearning for a beautiful Summer sunset with a girl you once loved, or playing in the fields as a child. Then you have successfully transferred your mental state into nostalgia.
This is a little like a CBT version of the bit in the Muppet show where Statler and Waldorf, the two miserable old hecklers in the balcony say 'Boo! That was rubbish!' 'Awful!' 'Actually, there was a bit of it that wasn't so bad..' 'Yeah, there were some parts of it that were quite good!' 'Yeah, actually I loved it!' 'Bravo!' 'Encore!'
And then I see a man with no limbs in a motorised wheelchair being brave, or a beautiful child about the age that mine would be now, and I burst into floods of fucking uncontrollable tears.
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3 comments:
Life. There's no getting round it. I love this post. x
PS - See, Twitter does work!
Cheers! Gonna follow you now Katy, watch out!
I have little patience with blogs. Yet yours managed to keep my attention through not one but two posts. At current count, that's both of them. I eagerly await a third in another year and a half.
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