Spring Day 47

Got up (late, I was planning on working on my slides in the morning but my phone died and I didn't realize that until after I woke up since I wake up too early every day). Decided to not go climbing (my membership runs out soon anyway and I need to call and see if they're doing a student summer deal again. Went to a professor's wedding shower that the department was holding. That was nice. Food was good and it meant I did most of my work socialization for the day. Finished my presentation, sat through 3 hours of presentations and then did mine. It was pretty bad but I don't really care.

Rushed over to the park so I could make a 20 minute appearance at the department picnic before meeting up with people from church to go to dinner and a blues concert. Did my rounds, had a root beer and some (real indonesian!) satay and then off I went to the church. Could've stayed a bit longer since everyone else was late, but that's beside the point. We went to a Laotian restaurant which we thought was next door to the venue but actually was attached to the venue (which was really convenient for us since we could eat during the show). Listened to the music and eventually got up and danced (poorly, but energetically). Carpooled back to the church and rode home in the drizzle, which was actually pretty nice.

I'm really glad that I went to the concert. I wasn't sure when I decided to commit to it but it was really fun. Plus I got to get to know better some people that I only sort of know and some that I barely know. Sure I didn't know any of the songs so singing along was a bit hard and we were by far the youngest group there but hey, don't need that to cut up the dance floor. Which I did because why not. Also we might do karaoke night, so hopefully that goes somewhere because I love karaoke.

I think all the socializing today has mostly kept the dysthymia at bay. Probably because it was mostly low key and with lots of escape points, which are. Plus I like music (the word is now out that I have made music in the past, so I'll let that rumor spread for a while and see if anyone finds it. Not that it's hidden) and that's a distraction from all the people when I need it. So I still feel decent even now. We'll see how tomorrow goes.    

Also, it is Kierkegaard Day. So I changed my profile picture (as is tradition) and posted a cryptic "210" status. Which had one friend text me asking if I got hacked and more worringly, has multiple likes. Why would anyone like a no context "210" is beyond me.

 

Spring Day 12

 Got up. Weather was a bit ambiguous (it was supposed to storm all day but the storm didn't end up happening till the evening) so I decided to not go climbing and just hold zoom office hours today. Didn't grade since I didn't feel up to it. In fact, I didn't feel up to much today, despite feeling fine (I think? I'm not sure I know what feeling fine feels like anymore). At the very least, not depressed. Went shopping and ended up overeating (mostly grapes, lots and lots of grapes but even without that I'm sure I went over my calories, especially since I only biked like 4 miles today). Lay in bed for a bit, can't remember if I napped or not.

Later in the evening, I decided to dig through my boxes to find my old mission journal. Couldn't find it (already pulled it out?) but I did review my old medical records (man I was skinny in high school), and the letters I got on my mission. Well, the two handwritten ones at least. I also found a letter left unsent (should probably bury that) which was an interesting look into my post breakup mind. I completely forgot I had written it. Anyway, also found $20 in a birthday card I got on my mission and some old notes for my tabletop game/multimedia setting that I forgot I'd written. And a very short journal covering the last month of my mission + a couple days in Ethiopia that give a good look into my mindset then (Interesting thing I wrote in December 2016 about how I was doing bad (with no entries unfortunately) and then started feeling better and being productive before crashing again. I try to justify these crashes and the depression in general, but looking back I wonder if I do that too much). While writing out my thoughts and letters on electronics is mostly nice (no searching for a tiny journal!) there really is something lost in it. You can't see the scratched out words or the marginalia and footnotes. The shifting sizes and shapes of letters. The change of pen as I move from one day to the next. These electronic diaries are lifeless compared to the truly written word. 

For all my regrets about my life, about love and relationships and what has (and hasn't) happened, one thing I don't regret, in fact I am absolutely proud about, is that I've written (and received) love letters. Not love emails or text messages (though I've written those too). Actual love letters, delivered by a mail man and all. Letters that crossed continents and oceans to find their way to the one I loved. Letters written with ink on paper, simple lined paper, folded up and shoved in an envelope. The vestiges of a lost era, already long gone by my time, held alive only by the archaic rules of missionary life. It warms my cynical heart, lighting the room for the lost romantic hiding there ("On Romanticism" is another good essay topic). I look forward to one day telling my kids about how their dad kept this ancient practice alive (probably not with their mom though lol. But maybe I'll somehow end up in a situation where it makes sense :p).

Finished reading an essay comparing Joseph Smith and Kierkegaard's views on 19th century Christianity. Interesting enough, the parts on Kierkegaard's opinions on revelation and apostles were new for me. Having mostly only read his more existential stuff, I wasn't aware he was waiting (to a degree) for a revelator. The other day I read an article on George Albert Smith's depression, which was a good read. Forgot to mention that on here. The reason I bring it up is there's a funny little section about his dad (an apostle) sending him (also an apostle) a case of beer with a note saying it was endorsed by the prophet to help him feel better. I know the standards relating to alcohol were a bit different back then but it's still a funny anecdote. Reminds me of the time (senior pictures I think?) where my dad jokingly suggested that I try marijuana because maybe I would finally loosen up a bit and stop being so tense.

Spring Break Day 2

Continuing these posts because it's a big week and the closest I'll get to keeping a journal anyway (just like how that one really angsty letter I wrote in 2017 used the idea of letterwriting as a framing device to cover what was going on in my day and the thoughts about it. No you can't see the letter).

I did get the letter sent off. Took a lot longer than I thought, not just because writing in Indonesian is hard and I wanted it to be perfect, but also because I get anxious about this sort of thing. There's no going back after you hit send and by doing so, I closed off infinite possibilities. That's angst for ya.

After that, I went on a bike ride. Turned around about half way because there was construction and I didn't want to bother going around it. Still probably did somewhere between 12 and 14 miles, which is okay. Then I moped around a bit more, took a long time to eat dinner and decided that I'm gonna try to get through Sickness Unto Death. Or at least start it since it is a notoriously dense book. A lot of my Kierkegaard study up to this point has been things from books like Fear and Trembling and Either/Or but the concept relating despair, authenticity, sin and faith is intriguing to me, especially right now. Maybe I'll blog about it later.

Tomorrow is a lot of grading and some other stuff, so we'll see how it goes. I need to update my CV too. 

Bad Faith and Parties

Being the patron philosopher (and Saint, tbh) of melanchoic young wannabe christian men, it's no surprise that I'm a big fan of Søren Kierkegaard. All of his work is great but some of his best stuff comes from his journals because there's less pseudonyms and more authentic Kierkegaard. One of my favorite examples is the following:

I have just now come from a party where I was its life and soul; witticisms streamed from my lips, everyone laughed and admired me, but I went away — yes, the dash should be as long as the radius of the earth's orbit ——————————— and wanted to shoot myself.

The imagery is fantastic. The ending is a great subversion of the beginning. It's so pithy. Going into it a bit more though, it's not just the OG sadboi being sad though. It's a look into what it means to be authentic, sort of like Sartre's idea of bad faith. He's depressed but masks it well and then feels even worse about it because he's presenting an inauthentic version of himself.

Anyway, I bring this up because I find it really relatable (and was at a party earlier). I may not be the life of the party, but I'm witty enough and people do seem to generally like me (or at least pretend like they do real well). When I choose to, I tend to hide my depression pretty well (same with my social anxiety for that matter. I doubt most people realize how socially anxious I am, especially since I am a decent public speaker; it's just interpersonal stuff I really don't like). Even when I don't, my extreme sarcasm works as a pretty effective mask. It's amazing what you can say and people just roll with it.

Since I've been particularly depressed this past week or so (tends to happen late february/early march) some cracks have been forming in my mask. A friend noted the other day that I looked happier than I had in a while (there was free pizza and I do love free pizza; also it was a mentoring event and mentoring is one of the few aspects of my job I enjoy). Another friend asked if I was okay after a particularly morbid remark. So we'll see if I get noticeably worse (or better) in the next little while. The whole fact that I'm self aware about the state I'm moving through is interesting for me too. Even if I'm eating less, I know why and can monitor my weight to make sure I'm losing a healthy amount (ie, no more than a kilo a week). It also makes it easier to force myself to do things I don't want to (like say, going to a party). Which in a way makes it harder to believe that I'm depressed. So we'll see. Spring break is coming up and I'm looking forward to that.

(And as a "legal" note, no I'm not suicidal or anything like that. Just feeling low, inauthentic, fatigued and maybe somewhat anhedonic)