The Darkness of My Inner Thoughts

This is probably the most self-centered journal I have ever written, but it is raw and true. Just reading it will probably disappoint you, but that is the point. Part of realizing who we are requires that we stop hiding our flaws from each other. So here it is, for the world to see. Hopefully it's a start to something new and better.

I haven't felt this place for a long time, a very distant familiarity for me. It's a depression that hasn't hit me since I was 12 or 13 years old. I don't really know why this weekend sparked it, but I've been in it for most of yesterday and I'm starting to come out of it today.

What are the reasons? Sometimes it's really hard to tell. It is comparable to the age-old debate of which came first, the chicken or the egg. Is it all of the reasons of life crashing down on you at once, or is it the chemical imbalance that causes you to see everything through a hopeless hole in the wall? I don't really care which came first though, because one thing remains constant. The helplessness and hopelessness of it all.

I never really talk to people about depression. I feel like it would only pull them down with me. I don't feel like anyone is capable of pulling me out. That being the case I usually just stay by myself until it passes, which usually takes a few days. People don't understand that though, but I tend to care less and less about what is understood about me. That kind of concern will drive you insane, and it's mostly just projection, nothing concrete that you can prove about other people. All-in-all what it leads to is paranoia, fear, and a passive-aggressive, nature. What's funny to me is knowing how to describe the problem, but not being above it. It's like when my friend Stuffy had malaria. He could describe what was going on in his body, but his knowledge didn't give him any edge over the problem. He just knew. That's it. I just know.

So as I usually wouldn't talk about the depths of my depression with anyone, I will now because I don't have to deal with feedback. I don't want to know what people think about how I feel. I already know it's screwed up.

I just didn't see a point in life. It was like I was miles above the world and could see everything, and it just didn't seem to have a point. I don't have a reason for myself. What I do have a reason for is what everyone else hopes of me. The dreams of the world, family, friends, God. Everyone wants me to be something, something better, stronger, faster. And none of them completely sync up. Beyond that, I don't know what I want. I feel like no matter what I choose to do, it will only be pleasurable for a short time and then it becomes a repetitious hell.

Aristotle, in his Nichomachean Ethics talks about happiness as being the ends, the ultimate purpose in man's life. He said that there are several theories to how happiness is acquired. He seemed to believe that it was a divine gift, but if it could not be obtained divinely, it was possible to work towards it and maybe reach some portion of it. What he talks about is doing everything for the good of its final product. Through perfection of his craft, a man can attain a sense of purpose and a sense of happiness, but the trick is, he has to care about the final ends of that craft. A carpenter would have to care about the completion of the building, and a soldier would have to care about victory. Money doesn't seem to qualify because it will only derive from you the desire to work hard enough to get the money, which doesn't require perfection. So basically, the American dream can't give you happiness because you can attain lots of money, but still feel no personal significance in the face of what has and what will be because there is no end to how much can be gained.

I never did care too much for the American dream, but I also have a hard time with perfection of my craft because I don't really know what I care about. I have been convinced that I care about lots of stuff, but I don't, myself, KNOW what it is on this earth that I care about, save relationships. There it is, the horrible truth about me. I don't care about music. I don't care about audio. I don't care whether or not my company makes more money. I don't care about making money myself other than to protect myself from the people who want money from me. I hate that it is a necessary evil. You have to have money to do so many things. That's why I make it.

Guilt. Because I feel this way I feel guilty. I am a disappointment to the people around me who expect me to have resolve and strength. They need me to have this so that they know how to support me, or to be a part of my successes via vicariously living through them. Once again, you can never truly know. It's all projection. But when I admit that I don't know what it is I'm doing on this earth, the people around me become disappointed, lose hope, feel like they have wasted effort. Their feedback solidifies it, and at that point, it is no longer projection. That gives me an incredible sense of guilt. I have failed the people around me which is the only real thing I care about. I suppose I deserve it though. I'm pretty convincing even if I don't know what I'm doing. That's how I got through my education, and that's how people feel such disappointment after having taken so much time, money, and effort supporting me.

When I was in Africa, Godwin sat me down and talked to me about that because he recognized it right off as soon as I stepped off of the plane. He told me that I was a natural leader and that people would follow me where ever I decided to go. He said that this can easily become a curse, because it is hard to KNOW where it is you should go, and your mistakes will take others with you. He said that he would pray for me because of that. I greatly appreciated his wisdom and his caring enough to take me aside and share that with me.

I can't judge people for feeling disappointment in me. I do it too. I lose respect for people when they fail. I get mad at them when I've worked so hard to help them. It's human love, full of holes and failures, and why don't we just face the fact: The more of it you give, the greater the potential of pain you will most likely encounter.

Not that this is a linear thought process, but I also hate calenders. I don't keep a calender or a day planner because I hate the reinforcement of the fact that my life is stuck in a series of boxes that comprise a bigger box that flip through a year, every year until I die. I hate knowing what those boxes hold and that I can only do as much as I can fit inside one of them. So I forgo a certain portion of dependability and efficiency in exchange for a false sense of liberation from the constraints of time.

Because of all of this, I don't concern myself with eternity as the motivation behind my faith. For lots of people, that's important, but to me, it's hard to understand. I have nothing to gage eternity on but this life I exist in, which, to my understanding, is nothing like eternity. Life is linear, my mind is linear, our forms are linear. Eternity is not linear. But being that this is my only means of comparison, one lifetime seems fine to me. To have faith in the Lord and worship Him through this long road full of bumps and bruises is fine. Queen put it well. "Who wants to live forever?" Not in this life, no thanks. I'm sure I'll be happy when I get to heaven though. When I finally understand that it truly is unfathomable. You can't fit heaven in a calender.

The one thing that has to be different in heaven is our perception of beauty. In this life, we only see beauty because we have ugliness to compare it to. The understanding that time is against us also gives beauty value. I am fully convinced that there is a new definition of beauty in heaven, completely different from what we experience. Somehow it won't have relational value, but it's own perfect value that will never fade. I do look forward to that.

I'm sorry I feel this way. I beat myself up enough about it. I expect myself to be superhuman for the rest of the people around me. I want to be dependable, someone capable of being followed to all of the right places, but I can't do it. I learn it time and time again. So don't love me unless you know and understand the full implications of me inevitably failing you.