Free Fallin’

Today, I wanted to share a few thoughts on depression and loneliness.  This will be less about providing solutions, and more about offering understanding and compassion, which in turn can help fix what is broken inside of the miserable skulls coping with these afflictions.  Sometimes all that a timid person needs is to know that they are accepted for who they are, enabling them to feel extremely confident and comfortable with that knowledge alone, and depression can work in the same… what is that?  Oh, fine…  This is Angry Tablecloth, and it’s not a big deal to get caught with a finger up your nose; just don’t get caught shoving that finger into your mouth.  That was disgusting.  On with the proceedings.

Have you ever read or listened to the story of someone who overcame extremely tough odds, to become among the most accomplished in what they strived to achieve?  This can be as inspiring as it can be deflating, especially if the moral that follows the story is, “If I was able to do it, then anyone can, and that’s why I do not have patience for those who do not accomplish their goals.”  I doubt there are many out there who would shout, “If I can do it, you can!” to a coma patient, or someone recovering from a brain injury who is trying to learn how to read again.  Depression, I know, can be impairing, to the point where it requires all of the energy one presently has, just to maintain the daily semblance of someone who is not depressed.  It can be difficult for someone in this situation to garner the respect deserved for what they go through.  There are people who discover brilliant things beneath the surface of who they are, allowing them to perform great deeds, but do not look within others, to see their internal reflection is not mirrored based on the situation alone.  This can form a dissidence that may not be realized by either side.

There are people out there who look at those struggling with sadness, and see that the books they read, and the music they listen to, and the movies they watch are rather dark.  “If only they took interest in things that are light, bubbly, and fun for everyone, they wouldn’t be so miserable.”  The thing is, what some might consider joyful can come across as a mere boast of happiness to others.  Someone speaking about how excellent the meal they had for lunch was to a hungry person, can cause the hungry person to never want to hear about food ever again.  It is not as if the hungry person wants others to starve, but hearing about that meal causes their stomach to involuntarily growl in pain.  The relation between happiness and comfort is one that often goes unrecognized, but there is a wealth of knowledge to draw from for those who see in between the bond.

Have you ever told someone about how unhappy you feel, only to have them tell you how miserable that makes them feel?  Doesn’t that make you feel better?  If such a situation arises, you may want to ask that person, “What did you hope to accomplish in saying that?”  This is a question you may want to consider asking yourself, in every situation, until it no longer needs asking, because it is second nature.  It is a question that can open gates of consideration, previously shut.

I had a friend who once told a lonely person, “I don’t know about you, but I like being alone,” and so I told my friend, “Eat shit and die,” and I never spoke to him again, because who am I to get in the way of his dreams?  My friend was only trying to help, because he is a good person, who does not want to see anyone or anything suffer.  It is easy to misconstrue a moment of irritation by someone when the sad and lonely tap on the glass.  The person inside might be bothered, but they are not necessarily mad for being woken up.  The person may simply not understand why others do not just come inside, because the door is open.  Ironically, this can happen while those knocking on the window do not understand why the person indoors does not come out to meet them.

Back when I was in high school, a teacher of mine – with a straight face – told the class, “You will not be friends with everyone you know, once you graduate.  I only know like a hundred people from high school, still.”  What the hell, man?!  I don’t even know if I talked to a hundred people as a teenager!  This is before Facebook and Twitter, when one in a hundred were actually using email, keep in mind, making it even more bloody hilarious.

Loneliness is a mistress who speaks of ambition, drive, hope, desire, and fascinating flaws comprising this reality.  To explore and embrace her truths brings an odd sense of cheer, causing her to fade away, leaving only this sentiment behind.  Speaking for myself, I know that it is possible to move beyond loneliness and despair to a level beyond conventional belief.  I could not feel alone if I wanted to… not for long.  And if I am able to feel that way, then anyone can!

It just became really cold in here.  I think the Ghost of Loneliness is helping me write this.  It’s hard to feel alone when she is around.  Seriously, I’m going to put on a jacket.

Those of us who are despondent, dejected, dispirited have incredible value as we are, and that can help us cheer up, for a moment, or longer.  We can serve as tests for others to show them what extent their current level of patience, compassion, and wisdom are capable of.  We can force those who make broad statements like, “Everything happens for a reason,” or that, “Love is all around us,” to question such realities, and possibly bring forth new found details that can further reaffirm such truths.  I say we, because we are one.  Those who live under a cloud of gloom add purpose and value to my life.

Your every minute Zen may only erupt for a half hour, once a week, but that is more than enough to expand it, until it encompasses every second of the day… though, again, I am just speaking for myself.  I am not here to dictate your reality as if mine is more valid than yours, because it is not.

Through drugs, sex, and rock n’ roll, or through depression, boredom, or loneliness, the same questions can surface.  What does it all mean?  What is the point?  Isn’t there more to life?  And the same incredible conclusion can be reached by all.

I have known depression, loneliness, and boredom.  We know each other well enough to be on a first name basis.  The only ones who once could compare with me in terms of loneliness are stranded on deserted islands.  At one time, the only friends I felt that I had lived in the ear buds connected to my Ipod, and yes, they are good friends of mine, even if we never speak in person.  In the same light, I’ll be around for a long time, and I am happy to be your friend.  I’ve never used Facebook, (okay, so I did for two or three days, to get in touch with a girl, who had a boyfriend, and so I closed that account quick) but I’ll start a page, (eventually) and you can contact me, or you can use the Gravatar thing to message me, if you like.  I barely check my email, because I prefer to spend much of my time as a hermit, but not all of it.  I wouldn’t have started this blog if I didn’t want to reach out to others.

This was Angry Tablecloth, and my shoe size is eleven and-a-half, but I can comfortably fit into a size twelve vagina.  (Much better.)  We will cover this sort of nonsense at a later date, concerning how the mental can transform the physical in unbelievable ways, and how no one has anything to feel insecure about.

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