Lately I’ve been feeling the tendrils of depression creeping their way back into my brain, looking for a place to root. I’ve been trying the scorched earth treatment so far, getting too little sleep, being alone, drinking it out, eating lots of good food or no food at all, and trying distract my brain from the issue.

I’ve been thinking of myself as Jason Statham in Crank, which trust me is not something I ever thought I’d be saying. (Okay, look, I adore Jason Statham and his British thug routine, but oh my god someone needs to give me back the 90 minutes I wasted watching that movie because I could have spent that time drooling on myself or something more productive.) I keep trying to jolt some serotonin or whatever it is my brain lacks back into my system. Drink too much, jump up and down until I feel dizzy, jab the palm of my hand with a pen, listen to my favorite songs and sing along as loudly as I can. Anything to stave off the lethargy for another hour.

It’s hard to explain anxiety and depression, although I suppose everyone has had it to some extent or another. I hardly think I’m special. It’s like watching a train wreck sometimes and not being able to do anything about it. “Don’t say anything stupid.. don’t say anything stupid.. don’t say — oh, fudge.” And then you berate yourself for being stupid and depressed when everyone else in the world seems to have it together, and then you have to lie on the floor for a while, and suddenly it’s a year later and you wonder why your hair is so long.

Sometimes when I’m riding home I look at the apartment windows as they roll by and wonder if they’re living life any better than I am. Do they know something I don’t? I imagine their rooms as being quiet and sunny and a little dusty and very peaceful. Somehow they’ve figured out the secrets I haven’t, the unseen inhabitants of this imaginary apartment. And here I am, brain the size of a planet.

Anyway, I will survive. I always do. I don’t even know why I’m posting this, except I suck at posting here and why the hell not.

PS: I wrote this while relatively intoxicated and singing along loudly to The Bravery. Consider it a writing exercise, and let’s never speak of it again.

PPS: I’ve kind of given up on this site as a blog, per se, which should contain links, and decided it is my “personal website”, which means I write about whatever I like, and you probably don’t read it. That works well for everyone involved.