Comments Lounge
>I can't have some dickhead pissing me off every day... Well, why not? If you don't have one available, I can surely loan you mine. He's charming as all get out, and does a fabulous job of pissing people off. Works hard at it, as a matter of fact. Actually, there are many here among us who truly enjoy your writing,and applaud your forthrightness. forthrightfulness. ( shit-Is that really a word?)spilling your guts. do it for all the little people, who can't articulate as well as you. thanks.
Sigh. This is a tough one, flea. I guess I would say, if you have to choose between writing brilliantly and feeling decent, I guess that feeling decent wins. (I'll sob in a corner and forever miss the stories, but you gotta do what you gotta do.) I have some confidence, though, that you'll never manage to kill that side of yourself that keeps you writing, and that maybe someday you'll get a good balance between the two.
i agree with trope. of course, i can only speak from my own experience and my own reading of yours, but here goes.
as someone else very much attached to the part of myself that is a Writer, i've struggled to come to terms with the multi-year intervals in which i am only a writer in theory. it feels scary, but i think it's important let go.
you may well find that your writing instinct eventually regroups and resurfaces in ways you didn't know it could (in joyful, relaxed ways, even).
even if not, i just want to say that dormancy isn't absence. enjoy not needing it in the knowledge that it will be there if you do.
I'm glad for you, flea, even though it means less posting for us. Perhaps your muse (maybe your boys can come up with a name for her) will figure out a different way to come forth. Surely Steve's pee-stained pillow or Miss Winston's latest adventure will provide opportunities. Though your writing makes me laugh and smile and sometimes cry, I don't want you to suffer for my benefit. Peace.
It does come back, Flea. It's harder to do when the driving need to let that part of yourself out is no longer there, but if you keep doing it, keep writing anyway, eventually the voice and the pleasure of the writing do come back.
I'm still working on that, myself. It's one reason my own embryonic blog has such gaps. But when I put in the time — in whatever dribs and drabs of that time that I can find — I find I can eventually write things I like.
It does feel at first like your writing ability is gone along with the Nothing that drove you to it. After a while, though, I'm starting to learn that the Nothing is not and never was the owner of my writing. The choice between living with the Nothing and being able to write, versus feeling decent but having writing taken from you, is a false one.
It's ok. You have other voices. Sure, the "angry voice" makes it easy to write: it's full of snark and wit, and it comes from a brain that is thinking and analyzing things just a little too much. And when you're busy being happy, you're too busy to make smartass comments about the jerkwads at the grocery store.
You can learn to speak in other voices, though. They are harder, but maybe only because they are less familiar.
Writing is something that is close to you, and something that you are good at, so you should keep doing it, even if you're not happy with the Happy writing. You will be, some day.
Happy writing sucks!
Gods! You sound so much like me it was weird! I was looking at myself the whole time I was reading and it was kind of scary, but Very cool at the same time. It's nice to know when one is not tryly alone, isn't it?
I didn't do the drugs, I buried myself in books and bad relationships. I think from what I've read, what's about our only difference.
When I head finally cleared a bit and I thought I was losing my voice, I cried, wept hugely, and held on for dear life. I finally learned how to Control and Use that bitchfest anger to write for me, but on MY terms.
I don't know your faith, but please don't take offence:
Goddess Bless.
Maureen
ps: I think I got the url right, I'm not so great with those, but I'm at LJ, through DJ. k?
Long time lurker, once-in-a-while commenter chiming in to say that the fly pic looks eerily familiar when put in the emotional context. It also sounds like you might be recalibrating to a new emotional baseline--even if it's a more positive one, that recalibration is *scary.* If you feel the need to take advantage of you new(ish) health insurance to work thru some of this with a counselor, that's cool. It's also cool if you want to throw something at me for even suggesting it--what the hell do I know?
Hi Flea,
It's really, really good to hear that silences on One Good Thing mean that life is going well with you. Silences don't usually mean anything so positive is happening. But this doesn't really answer your question..
My take on your problem is that you're looking at the problem as an either/or situation rather than a both/and.
It's great to hear that you're feeling happier, but that's not the only reason you're writing less frequently. Another big reason why you aren't writing as much now is related to the change of work - for a while there your blog was a major part of the honeysuckle enterprise - and although Big Machine isn't exactly a dream job it does seem to be bringing stability to your day and finances. So I think that before you shift all your attention to the "I only write when I'm miserable", you could benefit from a thinking through of the other factors involved.
It seems to me that you're really saying that maintaining a blog is becoming a strain and you want to pack it in. Do you have to pack it in altogether? Could it not just be something you update on those days you feel like you have something you want to get off your chest? Could you combine all the different blogs you currently have under one new one?
And what about losing your voice?? This voice has been with you since you became you. I promise you, it aint going anywhere until you stop being you. If you stop being yourself because you really want to change, well then it will be your choice and it won't be a lost voice, just a different voice.
And what about devoting the time you would have spent blogging to developing that voice of yours? You know how often your blog readers ask you to publish?? It's because we'd buy the book if you did. You've already produced enough materials for several books, if only you had time to edit them. I'm thinking "Flea's guide to sex toys", recasting your family stories as fictional short stories and sending off your reviews to places that will pay you for your work.
So that's my answer: don't close the blogging outlet, but don't feel guilt if you don't update it either. Cherish your voice, develop it away from the public eye and give yourself space for a new voice to develop.
Hope you find what you're looking for! Lydia
It took me such a long time to realise that nobody else really had the hang of life either, and that everyone's busy pretending and copying everybody else. Specifically, I felt like I was "cheating" at life and would be found out and publicly humiliated at any moment (stupid Catholic guilt complex...) and then I realised that I was really just feeling the same thing as everyone else. Life got easier after that.
I just don't want to see you go away forever and ever. I look for your blog on my update list and I was so happy to see a post today. I like what you write, happy or angry, substance or not.
It's all up to you, though.
I'm glad to know that all things considered, you're doing well. That you're surviving. Maybe even happy?! I think that's all I've ever wanted for you.
When I crawled out from under the angst and depression that gave me my writers voice in my earlier years, I turned from writing to editing. It's not as creative but it's more satisfying and a lot less effort.
I guess what I'm trying to say is don't assume your muse is gone forever... your muse may assume another shape, or come back for another round at another point in your life. You are a creative person and that part doesn't just disappear, even if it changes.
The Happy can be a very powerful driving force, as well -- you don't know that yet because how could you? The Fuck You has always been your only engine -- but trust me, it can.
And to be honest, The Fuck You is an old Dodge muscle car engine. It does have some power, but it burns gas and oil and coughs stinky black smoke, while The Happy is an Italian 12-cylinder that growls and purrs and sometimes just plain screams.
The HORRID analogy does not negate the truth contained within, and I speak from experience.
Negativity breeds negativity. I don't mean to sound like an infomercial, but it's amazing how wonderful (and productive and successful) life can be once you allow The Happy to be your driving force. The best part is that your happiness will begin to color your entire world -- it spills over onto your loved ones and into your work and every other part of your life, and eventually, you just start noticing how much BETTER things are in general. Joy has a learning curve, granted, but the end result is worth the effort.
And you don't have to completely give up The Fuck You. Every once in a while, a little Fuck You comes in real handy.
Hang in there. I've been clinically depressed since I was a kid, undiagnosed of course. Then I was under-treated for about a decade. I've been working with a Pschiatrist for almost two years now, with a combination of 3 antidepressants. I still don't know how to answer him when he asks how I am. I don't know what it is to not be depressed. I'm also in a 12 step program. It is through my program that I am learning to interact with the world like a real person. It's scary and new, but I'm content. My creativity is awakening. Okay, all this is about me. I guess I felt the need to qualify myself, let you know I get it.
I love your writing. You'll find your voice. I once felt there would be nothing left if all my character defects were removed. Now I know this to be false. You are much more than the sum of your failures. I'm sure you are just as twisted and wicked in joy and light as you've been in misery and dark.
I knew that my depression was serious enough to require intervention when I couldn't find my way out to my studio for months on end. It shouldn't be that difficult, the studio is just out the kitchen door and down the stairs to the sun porch behind the house. But the months passed and I would open that door to check laundry in the basement and the studio somehow didn't exist for me.
The sad thing is, the medication helps with the desire to eradicate myself and I know where the studio is, but I wouldn't call where I'm at a healthy place. I'm not getting much done and I'm really a poster child for inertia.
If you find a solution, let us know. If I think of anything, I'll pop back and give you an update.
But like I said, it isn't there now. At the moment, I'm pretty angry and frustrated. My teeth have been grinding away for about 6 hours over some bullshit thing that I need to just let go, but I can't because I dwell over things. I'm a dweller.
That particular passage would suggest to me that even though you aren't depressed any more (good for you!) you still have something to work on. Angry, frustrated, grinding, dwelling - these are all much more active that the average depression, but without being good. This is more like the way a lot of people suffering from depression kill themselves after starting SSRIs. Before the lethargy of the depression kept them from suicide, but after starting the drugs they find themselves with the energy to act.
I've no doubt that you've got a perfectly good non-angry voice. Read posts about the kids: you're just charming. Rage isn't your only option, but whenever you miss it, I'm sure you'll be able to summon some rightous indignation about something (the federal government, lack of universal medical access in the US, education).
But seriously, if you're feeling like that passage suggests, you could still use some help. Good luck!
Hi I just discovered this site as you have a Hello Kitty article on here somewhere. I'm doing my bes to find it but I'm searching for your 'search' page :o)
Anyway I came to say hello seeing as we are both have an interest in Hello Kitty (even if its not such a healthy one).
Best wishes,
Martin
The world needs anger. The world often continues to allow evil because it isn't angry enough. -- Bede Jarrett
Like you, I spent the majority of my life depressed, undiagnosed, and unmedicated. I've spent many mornings dragging myself out of bed while trying to think up reasons why I should keep on living for that day. Like you, writing was my life-line, one of the few things that kept me going.
I've come to believe that my depression (perhaps a lot of people's depression) is really anger, turned in at myself. When I learned to aim it outwards, in my writing, or in my life, when it was needed, my depression finally began to lift.
Anger is important and vital, and powerful when expressed in a healthy way. Use the anger. There's nothing wrong with having a giant "Fuck You" stuck in your brain. 
There's a lot of things and people in this world that need to be told "Fuck you!"
Kaethe, a lot of depressed, angry people are capable of writing, performing, or otherwise presenting themselves as light-hearted and charming. It doesn't reveal anything about how the writer/performer/whatever is actually feeling at the time.
Truth be told, after I wrote the post Steve and I were joking about how the person who pissed me off actually did me a favor by giving me the motivation to blog something about anything, and then I got over it. Mostly. I'm still a dweller.
Martin, get out of here, you crazy nut! What's with putting Hello, Kitty into a thread where people are talking about being suicidally depressed? Are you trying to get us all to jump off a bridge?
Java, thanks.
See, but that was a great post! I think everyone goes through this a little, because it is much more interesting to read and write about the crazy lady at the bank that made you miss your appointment (or whatever) that it is to write or read about how nice everything is. But, I do think the important thing that you will never lose is your sense of humor. It's all about finding the absurdities that make up life. Even if you don't feel fueled by anger, life will never stop throwing bizarre things at you. Also, some of my favorite posts of yours are pieces of your past, so you could always use good stories as filler if you don't feel up for soul-searching.
You know I started a blog for some of the same reasons you did. It seemed that my life was filled with 'depressing moments' and I had a wealth of those to choose from to entertain my audience. And then one day I realized that even though I could write about those things and some reading them would think that's all I had inside of me I also had the ability to prove to those 'non-believers' that there really is a bright side to every situation. My life has been anything but easy but you know what? I wouldn't change a thing. I think if you can learn to write about the darkness, when you take your hands away from the keyboard you'll be basking in sunlight. I don't know if that makes sense ...but hopefully it does.
And one more thing...I'd much rather take those honest words that may seem dark...over the pretty ones that flee from your brain the moment you process them.
Oh flea. This post soooo resonated with me. I hear you, I do. But the truth is, you are not going to lose anything. The angry voice is not going to be replaced with some Laura Ashley-wearing flower-sniffer. The smart aleck isn't even really leaving-- it's just going to stand aside and let someone a little wiser do more of the talking. Which is going to be rad, though a different kind of rad than how rad the writing has been so far.
xo!
Have you read Bird by Bird, by Anne Lamott? She talks a lot about training our selves to actually hear our creative voices.
It used to be easier for you to hear it, you had a pattern that worked for writing, if not for the rest of your life. Now that the rest of your life is working better, you need to come up with a new way of listening to that voice.
The #1 thing Lamott recommended was to sit down and write at the same time and under the same general conditions every day. Easier said than done, but worth a shot. Bird by Bird has lots of other very interesting advice.
"It used to be easier for you to hear it, you had a pattern that worked for writing, if not for the rest of your life. Now that the rest of your life is working better, you need to come up with a new way of listening to that voice."
I think this is true, but it's going to take some effort, which I hate. It's going to be interesting watching my motivation battle my apathy.
I'm glad to hear that you're happy! It is good, this being happy. You win! 
This is the prize for not having caved to the Nothing - you get a real life.
Now about the writing and the funny - don't worry about writing every day, for now. Don't feel guilty when you don't. Try setting yourself an hour to blog something every Monday night (or whatever seems like a TOTALLY, NO-STRESS, MEETABLE GOAL). Tell us what's going on with you; take one picture over the weekend and tell us what was happening.
There's nothing wrong with taking it up the a. I mean, there's nothing wrong with being happy, and writing with a happy voice. Probably no one would tell the difference if you randomly through in some "shit-baskets" and "tittie-fuckers" in what you would consider a happy post.
Like: "This is my adorable kitty-kitty poking his little fuzzy kitty-head out of box ever so adorably. What a cunt-yanker." Try it. You'll see.
Another "oh, I get it" over here, Flea. I'm so glad you're in not too dark of a place, but I understand how that darkness is what drives our creativity (and the funny). I was a hell of a humor columnist before I discovered Zoloft.
I have the same problem -- when (rarely) things are on an even keel, I don't get the impulse. And I know all the rules about the writing every day and finding voice and yada yada, but how great is that THING that makes you pull over on the side of the road to scribble something down before the fragments drift away?
We'll take what we can get. Post whenever you want to, and I'm sure many of us will be here to laugh and cry with you (hopefully more of the former than the latter!).
I shudder to do this, but:
((((hugs)))))
Don't try to grasp or hold on to things in the past. You are you right now. Words will appear if they need to, and if they don't, you'll be the you without words for that moment. The angry you is not you. The sad you is not you. The happy you is not you. You are you. No matter what. No matter what you think or feel. No matter what your real life people think or feel. If you never write again, you'll still be the ultimate you forever.
And you'll still have committed more magic to words than almost anyone.
Flea:
Please don't stop writing. Ever. You have such a way with words. And yes, please send me my Understatement Of The Year trophy immediately!
Your's is the only blog I read - and would hate not to have it.
Selfish Kamal
Hi! Another depressed american here. And PPD is a bitch.
I remember the first two weeks when I took prozac, being pissed off that it was trying to make me happy. I mean, WTF? I wanted to feel good, but I was pissed off because feeling good felt so ODD that I figured it must be wrong. I actually felt uncomfortable feeling decent.
I've always had that fear that people I know would know the real me. I've always "played a part". I'm one person for my parents. Someone else with each sibling. Someone else at work. Someone else at school. Just trying to play the part.
Thank god for kids. Something about pregnancy just made me stop giving a crap. It let the real me start to hang out a bit. I started stadning up for myself at work. telling people what I really htought.
And you know what? OMG, the world didn't end. I wasn't sent away to bitch camp. In fact, it seems like now, I actually do my job better. And I feel comfortable with myself.
Well, I did until I went and got pegnant again. ARGH! Love the baby, but I'm crawling out of the depression right now. I have to remember that feeling good IS good. I really do like to wallow in my pain. I'm a pain wallower. I odn't know why. It's where I'm comfortable. But if I can jsut drag myself out of this and come back to the happy part of the world, I can feel even better.
But it's hard to try and risk failing.
But you know what? I'd rather be happy than anything. And if it doesn't work out, writing is always there. Or maybe you'll find you can be happy *and* write. It just might take time to adjust and see what writing when you're happy feels like.
I wonder how method actors live. I bet they're wallowers. Hmm. I'm trying to wallow in happy now. Less dramatic, but at least I don't feel soul crushing pain.
My God, you describe it so well. The Depressed-American thing, the Nothing, everything. I so get it. I spent most of my life feeling like I was wrapped up in cotton wool and unable to feel anything or wanting to spill forth with the angst and the God, please kill me and woe is me, I am thinking about jumping out of my apartment window, perhaps living on the 27th floor wasn't just a brilliant idea. All I have to say is thank God for Effexor and Seraquel. I actually discovered there are feelings other than Nothing and Despair.
Anyway, I think you're a brilliant writer, no matter what you write on and I will continue to read you whenever you have a post. I'm almost positive you'll find your writing voice again. I know I did. It's really kind of a goofy voice but it is much better than the suicidal poetry I wrote in high school.
Flea,
I'm begining to suspect that your entire audience is part of the Depressed American demographic.
It sounds to me that your resistance to happy blogging is a sign that your muse is still there, bitch that she is, scoffing at the sacarine thoughts that now go through your head sometimes. She's not gone, just on vacation. Let her have her MaiTais in Cancun, and she'll be back with a hangover and a new will to snark at life.
My Depressed American army! We would band together and kick your ass, if we could manage to get out of bed!
JT -
((((hugs)))))
I'm going to smack you for that when I see you at Chuck E. Cheese in three weeks.
Flea,
I am delurking because this post was just so compelling.
I'm a voracious reader who came to your blog via one of the carnival of feminists. I then read through your entire archives because, damn, woman, you can write. And what you might not realize is that you have written some of the most beautiful shining happy moments I have ever read. Your love for your children just leaps off the screen and catches me in the throat with raw emotion.
We have to know the shittiest moments to recognize the truly great ones. How do those people on an even monotone ever know they're happy?
Not really anything resembling words of wisdom or really asking you to do anything. I really don't know how you'll fix this pickle. I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoy reading your blog. You rock. And right on. You deserve every single moment of happiness that's coming to you.
ML
Hey, look at that. Haloscan remembered who I am.
It's impressive, because I haven't really blogged in about 9 months. And that is because I started an antidepressant and suddenly lost my motiviation to write. It turns out that most of my writing was a way to convince myself that I was a worthwhile human being. I couldn't tell myself that before, so I was desperately trying to get people to know me, in the hopes that even a small bit of recognition would help me like myself.
That sounds pretty pathetic, doesn't it?
And it isn't exactly what you wrote. Obviously, you'll face your own demons. All I know is, if I have to choose between writing and feeling like the person I've always tried to be, I'll take this life any day. Sorry, Internets.
I've always enjoyed your writing, flea, but if it were to disappear because you are feeling happy, well, I guess I would just feel happy for you and be glad that I had the chance to know your powerful voice before it stopped writing publicly.
Good luck in whatever decisions you make.
Charlie
Depressed American slumber parties! We could eat chocolate and talk about why the world would be better if people would just listen to us. Y'know without talking to us or making eye contact of course.
What I was thinking while reading has been said, so, just, you know, hi.
Thanks flea. Don't ever stop writing. Sanity isn't worth it.
Flea,
I hear you. For me, it's trying to write poems now that anti-depressants have finally taken the edge off.
It's gotten better. A lot of it for me has been realizing that being on a more even keel has changed my writing a little, and that I'm actually okay with that.
My experience has been that being happier did make the urge to write go away for a while -- where was my motive, all of a sudden? But it came back. Just not necessarily because I was depressed anymore, which, if anything, ultimately opened up my writing a little.
I bet the same will be true of you. You're a fabulous writer. I can't imagine the urge to do that will ever completely leave you.
Another way to put it: just because you've stopped writing to survive doesn't mean you'll stop writing. It just means that writing becomes what you do instead of who you are.
In your life, you have already achieved more than you could possibly think of. Most of that only you know about, if you digg deep enough, you'll find it.
What is left is the part you don't know yet, and until now is only known by others. But you know it is out there somewhere, and you have the ability to find it, like you have found it many times before.
You write, others respond. And that is exactly what covers the "missing bit".
The way you write is a gift. And that gift is a 100% You, it doesn't stop at 90%, or more, or less. Your part that comes back to you via others, is just as important and unique. The only difference is, that this part doesn't only make you important and unique, but also 'the others'.
Because of you, people read your blog. Because of you, people get the opportunity to know about your personality, your opinions, your thoughts and ideas, your way of dealing with life. And every one of them will 'use' that opportunity in a different way. For some it will make them feel that they're not alone in certain matters, using it as a comfort. Some will start thinking in a different way, using it as another way of approach to life. And some will be triggered to finally start listening to themselves, using it as a motivation to start writing themselves.
That is, for example, what you have done for me.
Don't ever under-estimate the value of your gift, the unique beauty of your personality, and what difference that makes to life of 'others'...
Your decisions are yours, and they will always be respected by the others. You feel your writing voice has left you. I think it's more or less the other way around. You left your writing voice behind, and you have just forgotten exactly where. But it's not lost. You don't even need to digg to be able to find it, it will find you.
Loss? To miss out on you, will feel like a loss to all the others. But it won't be, because you will find us.
Josie (just one of 'the others')
Write a book of your blog musings. Get it published. Move on to something else.
Now is the time, when you're not depressed, to do all those practical things for your writing career you couldn't do when you were depressed. Write a book proposal. Get an agent. Do readings. Send your manuscript out. And so on. Go! Do it!
You certainly don't owe us this blog. It's too much responsibility. We've all come to know and love (and respect and admire and blah) you in your guise as flea, but you are also entitled to grow and change and become something different, too.
This place, this One Good Thing, has provided a community for us. We've been able to relate to your successes and failures, your joys and your heartbreaks, we've agreed and disagreed, but we all come back.
You may be ready to move on; and I'll be sad. But the fact that you have transformed into a better self is worth it to me.
I've always thought there was a book to be created here. Your thoughtful essays, your inspired rants, your marvelous sense of humor...it's all here. These chronicles of the past years (wow, how long has it been?) are inspiring, and are not only thought provoking, but entertaining as well.
You've been like a neighbor to me. Even when I've disagreed with something you written, I always come back because you express it so well.
I'm very glad about this change in you!
I'll stop rambling and gushing now.
Well, it sure makes it hard for me to say "Glad you are feeling better!" but I am, and if it means just rare updates on the blog, that works for me as long as we all know you are ok out there, stealing from the big machine with a smile on your face.
I have a theory about why you are feeling better, but it has to do with brontasauruses (sp) and should probably be in the next comment section.
Tom
I wish I had your kahonas. I have to keep my writing "safe" for the masses (in case my pastor finds my blog) and can't write about anal sex and finishing that bottle of Jack last night. Dammit.
So please don't stop giving me someone who writes in a spirit of freedom. Or stop, if you must.
But I would read your writing about which brand of toilet paper you buy if it meant more posts. Truly.
Yay for you and the cloud lifting. The warmth and gentleness you've shown your family and friends, even when you felt bad is admirable, and whether they see it in your writing or not, I think it comes through. You make me smile and giggle and feel validated. You remind me to try to be compassionate to others and myself. I'm grateful. I hope you get time and space to write when you want to, and if you blog it, or publish it, I'll want to read whatever you write. The pictures are great, too.
cynthia
Ah, flea. I so understand the angst over losing Writer Self. It's been so much a part of you over the years. As someone who has struggled with depression for most of the past 20 years, I do get how much a part of you that becomes. But losing your "angry" doesn't mean losing your ability to write. It may just take some time to reform that element of yourself. You may find one day that your Writer Self can be driven by other emotions than anger. Here's hoping, anyway.
flea, it's not gone, you're just a little out of tune. You learned how to write in a particular groove--depressed--and now you need to readjust. The talent isn't gone.
Wow, those are a lot of groovy insights, these comments.
First things first: Am ECSTATIC that you are happy! This is as it should be. Relish it. Live it. Love it. (And you know I don't throw the all-caps around lightly.)
Next: I haven't really been depressed since adolescence. And lookit! Some people tell me they like my writing. Happy writing isn't what you're used to, and the contented writer is not the big mythical ideal that the tortured artist is. But you can write, sister—that's just a fact.
What I'd love to see you do is dig through your archives for the seeds of a couple books (my first choice, as you know, is your growing-up-Southern memoir; your parenting experiences also make up a significant body of your work). Gather the posts together, shuffle them around into a logical order, polish 'em up, and start making queries to agents. This stuff will keep you so busy, you won't even have that much time to write new stuff until you've got a book deal that requires you to write more chapters. (Maybe deadline pressure will provoke rage and feelings of inadequacy...which will only improve your writing! See? You can't lose.)
P.S. Steve's appreciation for your writing voice? Is good. You can keep him.
What worked for you flea? I know that is not the point of this post and I apologize for being so self involved but I'd really like to know.
You guys are awesome. I agree with Orange, this has been very illuminating and helpful, although Cathy's post, which was very supportive, yet in a completely different way, was one of my favorites.
Emilysnow, e-mail me and we'll talk about it.
You are a wonderful writer and I enjoy your blog more than any other. I always check here first when I've got a bit of time to surf. But I'd rather know that you were happy than read more posts.
I'm a little late on the bandwagon, but Flea, I understand completely - the feeling that not-depressed is so foreign you're not even sure what it is. Though I'm not a "real" writer, I can also understand your feeling that your best writing comes from that place - my darkest moments have inspired some of what I consider to be my best writing.
I just wanted to voice my support and good wishes for you - it can be unnerving, growing into this new less-depressed you, but it can be really nice too. Good luck on your journey forward, and know that you're not alone.
~A member of the Depressed American army
It's going to be interesting watching my motivation battle my apathy.
Yup, I think so too.
V's Herbie, I'd love to come to the slumber party, but I just can't get myself out the door. Maybe next month.
Yay Flea!!! Yay, Yay Goddammit yay! I too know the sucking sound of the void, the occasional knowledge that that five minutes you just spent you're not getting back. But so what? Just because life is suffering is no reason to let it get you down
I read lots and lots of blogs, but yours is the only one that I've ever left up on the screen and come back 15 minutes later to find my husband reading. Good God, it took several years for him to finally get around to reading my own.
But I've come to this post several days late, and after reading the two entirely engaging posts above.
So, are you still happy? Is life still going well? Because I'm at least still enjoying reading.
No good point. Just a bit of confusion, and not sure what's the best thing to say.
It doesn't have to be all or nothing (i.e. depression OR Nirvana (get it?); great writing OR inner peace; blog always OR blog NEVER).
Things are seldom that cut and dry (something I have to remind myself often, believe me). The 'essence' of you--what makes 'you' you doesn't change.
Good luck from another "nut"...
Wow. This post struck a chord. I grew up depressed (and didn't even know it of course). I wrote journals and poems full of angst. Suffered stress headaches from damn near day one, could not eat, had nightmares.
Then I grew up and realized I had a problem and dealt with it. (And continually deal with it). Not easy but what can a person do?
If you're afraid you're becoming too happy watch Fox News. When you start shouting and shaking your fist at the tv, you've probably soaked up enough aggravation to keep you grinding those teeth for at least another day.
I've got to tell you that I've struggled with the exact same thing. Anger was the only fuel I knew, then one day I realized I was content, calm and happy. What the hell happened? It took a while to adjust and now that I'm finally comfortable being happy, I've found a whole new voice. It still has echoes of the way I used to write, but is definitely distinct. If we don't change and grow as writers, we're not really writing very well are we?
I think a quote from Tom Stoppard sums it up nicely:
"Every exit is an entrance somewhere else."
Best of luck!
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