Depression Part Two
I remember being endlessly entertained by the adventures of my toys. Some days they died repeated, violent deaths, other days they traveled to space or discussed my swim lessons and how I absolutely should be allowed in the deep end of the pool, especially since I was such a talented doggy-paddler. I didn't understand why it was fun for me, it just was. But as I grew older, it became harder and harder to access that expansive imaginary space that made my toys fun. I remember looking at them and feeling sort of frustrated and confused that things weren't the same. I played out all the same story lines that had been fun before, but the meaning had disappeared. Depression feels almost exactly like that, except about everything. At first, though, the invulnerability that accompanied the detachment was exhilarating. The beginning of my depression had been nothing but feelings, so the emotional deadening that followed was a welcome relief. Which leads to horrible, soul-decaying boredom.
• 13/2/7 - 00
• not sure where this cool stuff should go
• Rhetoric and Language
Related: Art&Design General