Musings

Depression is an interesting thing.

At 15, I was happy. Don't they say ignorance is bliss? Never failing is easily accomplised by never trying.

At 16, I tried. It's hard at first, but you get used to it. You get over the hump, and its wonderful. Success & failure, in the right doses, are a grand medicine.

At 17, I'm addicted. That was the high. Intensity in all things. That was the high. I guess now is the crash. Its a deep, deep sadness, but I know it will come to pass, which makes this - and anything bearable. It's not that my life is worthless, it's the exact opposite. I'm squandering opportunity.

For example: It's o-week now at Uni - first year - and the college is going off (I realise that sudden change could be a factor in my altered mindset, but I've done it before, and I don't get attached to things like that. Lack of Anna, Patrick & Gervis are much more likely causes - but I don't get attached to people much either, so still, I doubt it.) and its been fun. Partying is fun. Parkour is better. Pain is better. Taking yourself to the very edge of your limits, pushing through the dark makes the morning all the more beautiful. I know. I have pictures. The people on my floor are fantastic, and the days have been fantastic with them.

The nights less so. They're all alcoholics. And there's nothing wrong with that. People make choices - for good or bad reasons, with good or bad effects - but the act of choosing validates the result. But there is a culture here, a lowest common denominator attitude. Study to pass exams, not study to know. In the career that we are preparing for... I don't think that is good enough. The bare minimum is seen to be enough. I don't want to be scraping by with the bare minimum, I want to know. Again though, this is just choice. There is nothing wrong (inherently...I believe otherwise) with being the lowest common denominator - otherwise it would be higher. So the bare minimum is enough, its just not my choice. So by choosing more, I choose to be sad now, sad at how this week - though fun, was the post unproductive since I first tried. But I don't want to be sad, so I will need to make a choice - cure or amputate. To amputate, I need to return to the 15 year old level of thinking, stop trying, lower my standards, and I'll be good enough.

That's fucking anathema to me.

On the holidays, I threw my intensity - my year 12 gym and study intensity - onto a flywheel, stopped gym, stopped study, and ran. I ran a lot. Now I need to transfer it back to the things that matter. The things that I choose to matter.

Medicine? It may save my life one day. It will certainly save someone elses. It matters.
Wing Chun? Parkour? Being strong is all well and good, but if you can't use it, you're useless. Use-less; without use. It matters.
And friends, family, and all those who push me to adapt, overcome, improvise and grow strong? They matter.

But drinking; and partying?
They matter; they matter to many - those who live for the weekend - but I always found the week so much more exhilerating. It dosn't matter. I don't matter, the people passing my door in drunken revelry at 2 A.M. don't matter - and neither would any feeling of annoyance - so deep somewhere in my head all I hear is silence. So I guess I'm doing alright.

Looking back on when I wrote this; I'd like to say that this kind of clarity is rare for me. But its always welcome.