“Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing.” — Sylvia Plath
Which do you find more dangerous: wanting nothing, or wanting everything?
If I want nothing, it generally means that my depression has returned. That is by far the most dangerous time. My depressions are deep, dark, mysterious things, where nothing is interesting, no one is interesting, I’m not interesting, and the mere thought of living is tiring. I isolate, stop taking care of myself, eat everything in sight, trying to provoke a response. The only response is feeling sick to my stomach. But, hey, it’s a feeling.
If I want everything, it generally means that my depression has lifted but not enough. I become acquisitive because each new thing promises to make everything all right. I am disappointed of course, and so turn to the next thing to want. Not only unproductive but destructive because I know it’s stupid but I do it any way.
The best times are when I know what I need, and marshal my forces to get it, one way or another. These are times when I know the important things in life are not possessions but friends and healthy pastimes. Writing has been a great pastime since last February, and at times I feel it slipping away. Those are the times when I examine myself for signs of depression. When the writing is flowing, depression doesn’t need to knock at my door.
On another note, for those of you who read my blog, I started the sequel to Fantastical Trips two days ago and have over 3500 words written and already a big surprise, so I guess it was right to shelve the other story!