I used to blog for my friends and family. But it wasn't called blogging, it was just writing a letter and putting a bunch of email addresses on it. Facebook destroyed that. I no longer took the time to write and email, and if you didn't have Facebook then you were SOL. In fact, the last letter I wrote to a group was in 2008.
This time its in a more formal setting as I have a blog title and hope to have followers on whom I will reveal my psyche. I guess I am getting the urge to write because of Robin Williams death. If I were to die tomorrow I would hope to have more to leave my friends and family than a bunch of random Facebook posts which have as of late has become an anti-illegal immigration venting venue.
I too suffer from depression. In fact, this posting will cause me to over analyze everything, and feel stupid that I even bothered to write anything. Did I offend anyone with my post, and God forbid someone actually tell me they were bothered by my post because I will feel like pure dog shit. It isn't easy living with depression, it has a physical feel to it. If you read the book "What Dreams May Come", which by chance the awful movie of the book starred Robin Williams, it describes descent into hell and stooping, and feeling heavy, the main character is constantly reminded by his guide to get up or he will be lost to the surrounding sadness. Your back tenses up, there is something unseen pressing on your head, you waste energy like you are running an air conditioner to cool a house with no insulation. You replay conversations you had over and over and over analyze the reactions. Not just conversations that happened this week. I still think about things I said 25 years ago, and think about how I must have sounded to everyone else....I was eleven. Its dark, music is powerful, and sometimes you feel nothing but existence.
Yet, I still love to be in a crowd, I love speaking, and writing, I love that people seem to want to be around me, even though I say such nonsense, and I love when I cause someone else to laugh. If I had a voice I'd be a singer, and if I had a chance I'd be at a microphone in front of a crowd, just like Robin Williams. My uncle, who is so mentally ill it's scary to be around him, says that I would have inherited the full Scovill (my mother's family) depression were it not for my dad, who did have some social skills.
I have had plenty of suicidal ideation in my life, but I don't think I have ever crossed into intention. All the people posting about Robin Williams taking the easy road out, etc.....you've probably never really been there, you probably don't understand. Money, power, an audience, fame isn't everything, and if you are depressed, it isn't anything.
