Monday, 13 June 2011

I come no more to make you laugh: ...


...things now that bear a weighty and a serious brow. For me at least. I'm subject now and then to periods of the gloomies, black dog days, and the present black mutt is a vicious bastard. At work I do my usual passable imitation of a calm, unflappable sort of bloke, although I might not be doing it quite as well as I think this time, and showing signs of curmudgeonliness. In my inner world, I feel like the blindfold prisoner of unknown captors with unknown intentions, and I alternate periods of gloom with spells of wall-climbing paranoia, guts rolling, heart speeding. For ten days, pretty much the only emotions I have known are anxiety and anger. I attacked an averagely dumb US You Tube christer with almost undergraduate viciousness the other day, deservedly eliciting an angry, hurt response that made me feel quite a heel. The poor sod had no idea he was being beaten up on by one mildly, temporarily unhinged. (However, 'Voice of God', you really are a fucking whack job and I feel no contrition for cremating you. So there.) Concentration is nigh impossible as my head is clogged and dusty as a hoover bag and oddly, worryingly, I feel as though I know nothing: can't implement basic teaching skills, can't remember what I read or assemble my thoughts: everything I attempt just confuses me.

It really is a right pain in the arse.

It's more than twenty years since I last had medication for depression, which was probably caused by a long bout of glandular fever. In those days, Happy Pills did little other than dehydrate you, causing unquenchable thirst and the sort of constipation the Victorians thought led to depression in the first place - nothing a day on the Syrup of Figs and a good brimstone and carbolic enema wouldn't sort out. So, tired of spitting feathers and passing shrapnel, I slung them down the bog and sat out the depression until it blew over. I understand the modern generation of Happy Pills actually work in the short term, and am pondering whether to petition my GP for some. I dunno. There are immutable, real world reasons for my feeling like this, although I'm over-reacting to them absurdly. The irritating thing is that I know this, but that doesn't alter the feeling that I'm being stalked by a maniac.

Anyway, this explains the lack of blogs recently, and may explain a lack of blogs to come for a while. I've discovered that whenever I predict a lull in blogging, it never happens, so making this public might well disperse the gloom.

14 comments:

Nik_TheGreek said...

Θα μπορούσες να κανονίσεις να δεις κάποιον. Συν Αθηνά και χείρα κίνει. Προσπάθησε να βοηθήσεις την κατάσταση...
Οι άλλες λύσεις που βλέπω είναι
α) σεξ ή β) διακοπές

Vilges Suola said...

Αποκλείονται προς το παρόν οι διακοπές (και το σεξ, εκτός από self-service) Κάνω αλτήρες στο σπίτι, τρώω υγιεινά και περιμένω να μου περάσει.

ydnacblog said...

Oh buggeration - bloody, bollocky, bastardly black dog.

The only thing that is bearable is that the time does just pass - without you having to do anything.

Will be here when you get back.....

Vilges Suola said...

Thanks for stopping by!

Bo said...

I know the feeling all too well and feel for you! Come for a day trip to Cambs sometime.

Vilges Suola said...

Thanks, Mark. No free time before September, though - then by the looks of things, loads, as in unemployed free time!

Fionnchú said...

I dumped the pills years ago myself. They blurred me, softened the edges, but I felt as if in a miasma. So, I went back to my usual cranky self, and my family's stuck with my S.O.P.

Hope you're on the mend; I wonder as you and I are contemporaries how our "advancing" age and our ability to tolerate to our own rhythms and not caring as much what others think of us has to do with such gloom, or its dispersion?

Vilges Suola said...

I think that I've learned to tolerate depressions and sit them out better than in the past. I've also understood that they have to do with feelings of rejection and exclusion, which go back to adolescence, school, an shit. The switch is always there, waiting to be thrown.

Mediterranean kiwi said...

i really hope it's all over - i feel terrible thinking that there's a depressed friend out there on his own

Vilges Suola said...

Thanks, Maria, that's really kind of you. And yes, I do feel a lot better now.

Jo said...

You try to talk yourself out of it but how can mind over matter work if it's the mind that's the source of the problem? Aaargh, it does go away though.

Vilges Suola said...

Yes, it does go away, but you can only sit it out while it lasts. I think the problem IS physical - something fucks with the neurones and synapses, and all the pep talks and bluff common sense you get from those who never experience these blips are of no value whatver.

Jo said...

Indeed -- if only I had a penny for every piece of useless advice of the go-for-walk, pull-yourself-together variety... A neuroscientist friend has a theory that SSRIs work not by raising serotonin levels as the effect would be instantaneous but by growing new neural connections.
I wish the rational mind would simply step in and alleviate the misery. All I can offer is I know how it feels. Glad you're better.

Vilges Suola said...

I decided years ago that the next person to jolly me along would get a black eye. Fortunately as I have grown older the depressions have become fewer and further between and nobody has had an eye blacked just yet.

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