The not-so-lame Legacy

One of the more depressing things about depression, is that you spend an obscene amount of time pondering the nature of depression itself. I think I spent most of my twenties doing that. My thirties, thusfar, have been characterised with a disinclination to probe topics that don't reward you for your efforts, which is a blessing. I now spend more time than I've ever done before smelling the proverbial roses, so to speak.

Having said that, I don't mind talking about being a depressive, and while I'm not that exactly (there's manic at the beginning of that word, which makes all the difference), any kind of talk is therapy. In this case, blog therapy.

I think one of the biggest epiphanies I arrived at was that living on your own can be depressing. I'm not being Captain Obvious here. If you're a loner like me and you live alone, you become the center of your world, which is a tough thing to focus on 24/7. The reason most loners don't realise this right away is two-fold: One, they don't have a choice in wanting to be alone and two, being alone is only depressing part of the time. The other parts, it's equally comforting, empowering, relaxing and a welcome respite from the cattle market that claims to be the world.

When things are going good, dandy. When they're not, you begin to focus on the silence, the stillness, the impossibly deliberate passage of time and the absence of knocks on your door, messages on your phone and companionship in your life. You suddenly start to see your life as a series of dinners for one, solitary movie shows, lonely walks home from the subway...the dog never barks when you come home, the girlfriend doesn't nag you for bringing your umbrella indoors and your friends don't make fun of you, on the sole premise of having spent the past twenty eight consecutive weekends in your company, they know your little quirks and idiosyncrasies, a little too well.

They don't, because you don't have a dog, a girl-friend or friends you seem on a continuous basis. All of these exist, at one time or another, but as a series of one-offs, never a continuous flowing presence in your so-called life.

So you turn to yourself in the mirror, Depressed You versus Manic You, and the accusations begin to fly. What would possess a man not to work extra hard to keep a girl? Why would you go to a movie alone and not call a friend? Why not turn to a co-worker and ask them if they want to grab lunch?

What kind of human being are you?

Well, it's really quite simple. They all seemed like good ideas at the time: I like my privacy, girls make demands (not unreasonable ones, but all demands remind me of unreasonable ones my mother made), friends are unreliable, plus I have a major fear of friends feeling obligated to hang out with me which I can't abide the thought of anyone doing and as for co-workers...have you ever been part of a co-worker relationship? It's all talking shop, airing work jealousies, gossiping and cracking stupid, unfunny jokes. Plus, they expect you to have lunch with them, everyday for the rest of our professional lives!

So the loneliness, and by extension the depression, is really self-imposed, in my case. It's based on some choices I made because the alternative was simply too grim: surround myself with people and never get a moment to myself.

So, if it's self-imposed, why complain about it? Because I'm two people...the manic person and the depressive person, who hate each other and pretend they've never met, to the point where I turn on myself on a constant basis. Manic Me can't understand why he lives in isolation and spends his every waking moment (re)building bridges and forming connections, while blaming Depressive Me for all the isolation and gloom. Then, after a few months, Depressive Me takes over and Manic Me fades into the night, and HE spends all his time avoiding the people who've been forced on him by Manic Me. And he simply can't understand why these people won't leave him alone and let him recharge his batteries in peace.

That's the problem with being two extremely different people.

But if you're just depressive, the answer is simple(r): loneliness, or more accurately, a lack of an appropriate venue through which you can express yourself, is the curse that you need to get beyond. And I don't mean force yourself. Depression is, simplistically put, a lens through which all things seem darker and with no reasonable upside. The world seems pointless, passion seems unreasonable and life seems a series of thankless tasks that take you nowhere. It's the steadfast belief that things will never change which is the fuel that feeds depression. And that view is as valid as people who see things has rosy and filled with sunshine. Neither can be talked out of the way their mind processes information.

The only thing one can do is to let the depression run it's course, but trust that you're simply in a dark tunnel which will come to an end, eventually. One day you'll see a speck of light which, in time, will expand into a glorious sunshine. There'll be people who excite you and inspire you, opportunities for you to express yourself in any way that you feel you are capable and success to keep those feelings buoyed. If you give up, or you convince yourself things never change, you'll be slowed down. It's really about a positive attitude, even in your darkest hour. Fool yourself if you have to, but don't stop willing things to change. You're miserable, and in the short term that won't change, but cling on to the knowledge that in the long term, things will be different.

My biggest fear was always dying alone. People feel better when they know they've left some kind of legacy to sustain and honor their memory which, I suspect, is as important to people who get married or form long-term relationships as the need for companionship. I've always felt that this talk of a legacy was kind of lame, since I'd be dead and the only attractive thing about that legacy, was thinking you have one, while you're still alive. I'm beginning to come around. I mean, I still have to mediate between those two idiots (and frauds, because the Real Me is vastly different from the way those two imposters have represented me) but I'm confident that can be done.

I have to be confident, in everything I do. That's what I want my legacy to be. And as far as legacies go, this isn't a bad one to have.