Sunday, March 15, 2009

Yin Yang

The Chinese philosophical concept of yin yang is one I subscribe to. Take life, for example. At times, life is good. Other times, it sucks. Good times and bad, it seems, are interconnected. Most of the time, life falls somewhere in between good and bad. But the forces of each are always at work.

When considering #1 and #2, it's usually not that life is entirely good or it entirely sucks. It's that it is either mostly good or mostly sucks. I'm guessing the 80/20 rule applies to those first, two, yin yang qualities of one's current life. All other ratios fall under #3, i.e., life, in general, falls somewhere between good times and bad and, while it might hover closer to one extreme or the other, it doesn't quite equal the oft-proven 80/20 rule where people are most likely to say "Life's good," or "Life sucks."

This isn't meant to be a pity party update--as much as it might read like one--but since Fall, my life, from where I sit, has mostly sucked. Please don't even think about writing some "cheer Jimmy up" comments. I'm just saying. I'm reflecting. It is what it is and its been what its been. I think I wrote about this once before a few months back. Frankly, I can't believe I'm writing about it again! There's no way I thought I'd still be wallowing in this "life sucks" bullshit.

Do I feel entirely hopeless? No. Do I feel it's going to continue this way without end? No again. I mean, I sure hope not. Do I feel temporarily cheated out of a good life? Nope. Well, maybe but not really. Leastwise, if I'm being cheated, a fair portion of whatever life is cheating me out of is my own damn fault. Not all of it: There are people and situations that shoulder some of the blame or who were the catalysts for this bullshit. But those people and situations don't warrant all the blame. They aren't so responsible that I feel completely innocently cheated.

What really bothers me about this is the depression its caused. I don't like to think of myself as being depressed or being in a state of depression. In fact, I spend a lot of time convincing myself that depression hasn't manifested itself in my psyche.

But it has.

I've reached the inescapable conclusion that it has and, worse, my depression has made my life generally worse. Sorry if I'm sounding like a chick right now. I don't mean that in a derogatory way. It's just that many women are better at owning up to this kind of stuff... and verbalizing that "owning up." (Like I'm doing right now.) I mean, it almost sounds like an oxymoron to say a guy should "man-up" to depression. (As sorry as that is.) And I"m not sure what I'm doing here constitutes manning-up to anything. Again. I'm just saying.

I know there's a lot of folks out there, right now, who are in (or feel like they're in) the same, sinking boat. In fact, some of them are in boats that are sinking faster than mine. That should make me feel better, right? Wrong. Some people say (and believe) misery loves company. I don't buy into that notion. I take no personal solace knowing other peoples' lives also suck, regardless of whether they suck to the same degree or worse.

What bothers me the most about this depression thing is its impact on my ability to get things done. I keep asking myself why I'm not accomplishing things I need to accomplish? I'm not talking about goals and desires and those sorts of things. I'm talking about shit that needs doing. Shit that, ordinarily, I would take care of.

But I'm not getting the stuff done that needs getting done. Often, it's relatively simple stuff: Stuff that, normally, I would dive right into and accomplish. Things that need doing that, theoretically, might help ease certain situations that have caused (and are continuing to cause) my life to stay, 80/20, on the sucking side.

How pathetic is that?

Do you ever feel like you're holding out for a break? For something magical or unlikely or unexpected to happen that will pull you out of your doldrums? If only that break would come along all the other shit evaporates? Is that realistic? Even slightly realistic? Or is that a product of depression? Sheesh. I feel like I might be depressing others just writing about this crap.

Besides snapping pictures, writing is what I do. Both endeavors, photography and writing, are therapeutic for me. I search, with words and pictures, for some sort of catharsis. I don't know if I believe the answer to my depression lies in photography or writing. I only know that depression and the reasons for the depression sometimes compel me to use those two endeavors in some possibly Quixotic quest to turn my life around. Perhaps it's a comfort thing? Maybe writing and snapping pictures takes the least amount of effort so, by doing those things, I delude myself into believing I'm self-actualized? (When, in fact, being self-actualized, for me, is the furthest thing from reality these days.)

I'm staring at my Final Cut Pro editing system. It's sitting on a desktop next to the desktop the keyboard I'm tapping on rests. I've had that editing system for about two months now and I've done nothing with it. Nothing. For some reason, I can't make myself sit down in front of it and work with it. It can make me money. Money I certainly could use these days. In fact, I have work that's been given to me to edit. But still, it sits there: Unused, un-worked, and unable to fulfill the promise I thought it held for putting a few extra bucks in my pocket.

There's other stuff that sits here waiting for me. I just can't bring myself to do it. It's like I'm paralyzed when it comes to some of this stuff. Even though, by doing these things, there's a decent chance it will help out with some of the situations that are screwing with my mental and emotional health.

There are, of course, a few benefits to depression: Weight loss is much easier. I've been fairly successful at that. (30+ pounds since October.) Plus I don't spend much $ on anything fun. Apparently, I'm not particularly interested in fun. I wake, I do only what I absolutely have to do to survive, to minimally survive, I get back into bed and sleep, waiting for the next boring, unproductive, cycle to repeat itself... day after day, night after night.

And that, my friends, truly sucks!

The pretty-girl-gone-mad at the top is Cindi. I know I've posted this pic before. So sue me.


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