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OK, this is starting to feel awkward. Like a religious cult leader who convinces everyone the end of the world is nigh. The room is packed, the grand speech is done and it is coming! The end of the world is about to happen. All you’ve got to do now is wait. And then wait, and wait a bit more… then wait some more. You eventually just get to the point where theres only a couple of miniature pretzels and a broken party ring left in the plastic compartment platter. Drama and suspense checked out a while ago, and everyone is now staring into the middle distance wondering whether they can speculate on what will happen in the next episode of The Wire, without appearing too optimistic about their chances to see it.
I feel like I’m in that phase, I’ve got everyone I know to say ‘look! I found some depression over here’ only for everyone to get there and see nothing. Just like when you’re a kid and you do the best trick known to mankind on your BMX, but your dad was busy looking at Autotrader, and of course you cannot repeat it.
Don’t get me wrong, this is a good stretch; a good phase. I’m not depressed, it has been a sustained period of… happiness? That is not to say bad things haven’t happened, but that is the difference between depression and sadness. I’ve been sad recently; sad about my uncle going into hospital, about my gran going into hospital, but it doesn’t condemn me to weeks of existential misery. I’ve been able to bounce back and maintain a level head*.
I also haven’t really been in mania. I don’t suddenly want to stay up all night to trying to get my commercial pilots license, something I have never expressed an interest in prior to this fictional evening. In fact I’ve been going to bed earlier. Even managed to get in bed before midnight once last week*.
How marvellous. Depression free for the first time in a long while. A sustained period no less, not just a fly by night happy moment, and it is great!
Except, I feel like I will be getting a knock at the door any time soon from trading standards. False advertising on your blog Mindfump – you said there’d be misery. Whilst I am enjoying happiness at the moment, I do have some kind of depressionless guilt. If I was a less trustworthy character, I’d be eating an onion like an apple just to make myself cry. I do suspect, rather than having any moral implications against that however, I think I am just too lazy to go and buy/get an onion.
I definitely thought my ideas for the blog would run out way before the depression did. I’m so unprepared. At the moment I am just a person writing – Although it should be said that I am just a person writing… with a fully functional laptop, as I got may or may not have got it fixed today. Productive day.
My guilt of not having any depression to write about though only goes so far. People who talk about physical health often do so from a positive angle. With new super foods, new exercises, feeling good, looking good, or similar. People who talk about physical health are not just on their death-bed blogging about all their physical problems. So what I have deduced from this fictional argument that no one has challenged me with is; keep writing, mental health can be good, bad or indifferent. So write about the good as well as the bad. Just like physical health. Although I’d be willing to sacrifice part of my physical health for a pack of party rings right now.
*Seriously, it could be a balance beam for Olympic gymnasts.
*Well done me, although tonight will not be before midnight.