Showing posts with label ramblings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ramblings. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 4, 2023

On patience

I am a patient boy

I wait I wait I wait I wait

I wasn't always so patient. I'd get frustrated and angry (I mean I still do). I never wanted to wait. I learned patience (and longsuffering) in many ways. The mission was a big one. Being forced to repeatedly be with people I couldn't stand, all day every day. Things not working out, repeatedly, all day every day. Enduring to the end (of 2 years). 

My life plan not working out. Coming to terms that We couldn't be together. That it was okay to do things slower than my peers. School, careers, relationships, marriage. 

Learning to cope. To just leave situations that were irritating me, making me angry. Taking walks or bike rides to be alone. Learning how to calm down. Realizing that I didn't want to be angry and yell all the time.

I am a patient boy

My time is like water down a drain

Everybody's moving, everybody's moving

Everybody's moving, moving, moving, moving

Please don't leave me to remain

In the waiting room

And yet like all virtues, being too patient isn't a good thing. Just because I shouldn't rush into things because that's what my peers are doing, doesn't mean I shouldn't do those things. I can't just wait for what I want to fall into my lap, even though I've been weirdly successful in the past. 

I only have so much time and it's one thing I can never get back. Even with an eternity, it is a precious resource. Life is short, biological clocks are shorter. 

Please don't leave me to remain, in the waiting room

But I don't sit idly by
I'm planning a big surprise
I'm gonna fight for what I wanna be
And I won't make the same mistakes ('cause I know)
Because I know how much time that wastes (and function)
Function is the key

It's time to move on. To take things into my own hands. I've been sitting idly by for too long. I might not have a big surprise but it is time to fight (myself) to be who I want to be. I'll make new mistakes but hopefully not waste time, waiting. Being patient.   

(Yeah I know this song is probably about being in jail but let me have my moment). 


Sunday, June 25, 2023

On Soulmates

The word probably least used to describe me is "sentimental". In fact, people pretty regularly tell me that I don't seem like a sentimental person in the least (most recently, I got this Friday). I agree with this assessment. So from that point of view, this is a weird topic for me to approach. 

Saturday, June 24, 2023

On Integrity(?)

I haven't checked out the new preach my gospel yet but apparently they added a new Christlike attribute: Integrity. Which is a good thing. What stood out to me though wasn't the part about absolute truth (which is really a topic for another post, being something I've struggled a lot with) but this

What you choose to think—and what you do when you believe no one is watching—is a strong measure of your integrity.

I'd already been thinking about similar things the last few days, so I decided to write down a couple of my thoughts.

Tuesday, May 23, 2023

On Rejection

DSM-5 defines atypical depression as a subtype of major depressive disorder that presents with "atypical features", characterized by: ... Long-standing pattern of interpersonal rejection sensitivity (not limited to episodes of mood disturbance) that results in significant social or occupational impairment.


Reading that on wikipedia a few months ago was a key part in realizing that yes, I have depression. I mean that whole article was putting into words what I felt and why I felt like I didn't have "real" depression but seeing that was like "wait a second, that's me. That's that weird part of my anxiety, the reason I didn't recognize that I was socially anxious because it's the only big part of it." 

No one like rejection, but I've always wondered why I so fear rejection. Why I hobble myself so much instead of taking chances that all sorts of people, nerds even, take all the time. No completely, I'm mostly fine with being rejected by a job, at least before interviews (though maybe my rejection sensitivity manifests in sending out fewer applications than I should?). It's not just romantic rejections either. I don't go to events out of fear that people don't really want me there (luckily I've gotten a lot better about that one). And work. Why have I had so much trouble finding a co-advisor? Because I'm afraid to ask because I don't want to be rejected. It's part of why I was not a very good missionary.

I tell myself things like "well I just don't want to be intrusive." But that's an excuse; it's just me trying to frame my anxiety, my sensitivity as a good thing when it's not. A couple minutes is not intrusive. 

It's not like I even take actual rejection that badly. Like yeah I was hurt when the Rebound said no (in such a polite way too!). But I got over that pretty fast, I didn't hurt myself or anything. Just walked around in the cold and cleared my thoughts (though those couple of days were super stressful/depressing for reasons beyond just her. See here which was published after I asked but before she responded, about an event that happened before I asked). I can generally understand why I am rejected. There's usually not much hard feelings (except for Her, in the aftermath. But not now).

That's not to say it's all good. I probably give too much space afterwards, out of a misguided "well I don't want to appear pushy" instinct. Makes it seem like my whole point in building friendships was just to try for a relationship, when it really wasn't. Basically ruined the blossoming friendship between the Rebound and I, which sucked because she's cool and I didn't want to lose that friendship.    

I'm better than I used to be, even if I am still a nervous wreck. My coworkers love my prom story (which gets more absurd with each retelling). The crux of it is that I knew (!) and I still didn't ask Her to prom because I was so afraid of Her rejecting me. She literally asked me on a date like 3 days before prom! So I'm not that bad anymore. Even if I'm still pretty bad. 

So why do I fear rejection? Why do I let this anxiety control me? Why won't I ask the damn question? I know that I'm being irrational. I know that it's just my mind playing tricks on me. I know that I don't need to (and won't) wreck our friendship if the answer is no. I'm okay with no in fact, because I really value our friendship that much. So why can't I ask it? Why do I find every excuse to let it remain a question? 

Is it perfectionism? Is it just an irrational fear of rejection? Do I think I'm happier this way, imagining many lives that could be rather than taking a step to close them off into something more concrete? Does the liminality excite me? 

And why do I let it spill into my professional life? It's funny. I have no issue going to professors to ask questions. Or to argue. But as soon as it comes to forming a relationship that help myself, suddenly I can't do it. At all. Because I'm scared of rejection.

I really need a better therapist than this blog, anime and random music playlists. Though I'm not sure what the point is. I know my way of thinking is wrong, that everything will be okay and I just catastrophize because that's what I do, not because it is realistic. Does hearing it from someone else really make a difference? Or is it about having a stronger commitment mechanism?  


Thursday, May 11, 2023

Your Name: how to do the remake right

So there's been a push (by Japanese investors iirc) to do a westernized live-action remake of Your Name. Completely unnecessary but let's suppose that there's no way to stop this venture. What currently is being done (at least the rumors I've heard) and what should be done to actually capture the spirit of the movie? Spoilers below, obviously.

Saturday, April 8, 2023

Sayings on the Cross: Reunion

And when Jesus had cried out with a loud voice, He said, “Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit.” And having said thus, He gave up the ghost. -Luke 23:36. KJ21

Wednesday, April 5, 2023

Sayings on the Cross: Abandonment

 wbatša‘ šā‘yin: q‘ā’ yešua‘ bqālā’ rāmā’ we’mar, ’ēl ’ēl lmānā’ šbaqtāni di’aiteyh ’elāhi ’elāhi lmānā’ šbaqtāni - Mark 15:34, Peshitta 

Monday, April 3, 2023

Sayings on the Cross: Relationships

When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, Woman, behold, your son!”  Then he said to the disciple, Behold, your mother!” And from that hour the disciple took her to his own home. -John 19:26-27, ESV

Sunday, April 2, 2023

Sayings on the Cross: Salvation

And he said to him: “Truly I tell you today, you will be with me in Paradise.”- Luke 23:43, NWT

Saturday, April 1, 2023

Sayings on the Cross: Forgiveness

Then said Jesus, Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do. And they parted his raiment, and cast lots.  -Luke 23:34, KJV

Friday, March 31, 2023

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.

Sayings on the Cross: Intro

As regular readers of this blog are aware (I always get a kick out of saying that), mid to late February was a rough time for me. That of course coincided with the start of Lent. One of the reasons I revived this blog (and let it thrive) was because near the beginning of Lent I started reading up on the sayings of Jesus on the Cross and decided that I really wanted to do a series on them. While initially wanting to get all my thoughts out at once, I decided that doing them one day at a time, with seven landing on Good Friday would probably be the best way to do them. 

I'm not interested in the theological implications of these verses. I don't care what "paradise" means or what prophecies were fulfilled. As I've mentioned before, I find the Bible a poor source for theology given that I have access to modern revelations. There's no need to pan for meaning when the river lies next to a gold mine. No, what I'm interested in is my relationship with the words and their themes. So in a way you could say that this are more "On X" posts. "On Forgiveness", "On Salvation" and so on. Named differently though; this is a formal series. 

So look forward to that, hopefully it turns out at least a seventh as well as it is in my head.  

Wednesday, March 29, 2023

On Admonitions

There's two verbs that dominate my patriarchal blessing, "bless" and "admonish." Now that's an interesting word that you don't hear often.

While the word comes up throughout the blessing, it's most notable in the (fairly short) section about marriage. There's no "bless" there. No real information. Just a warning that I better do certain things.

When I received this blessing, it was mostly just weird. At that point in time, dating wasn't really a thing I did (jokes on you, it's still not 😅) and I wasn't really considering dating outside the church. Sure my testimony may not have been strong (and so some of the admonishments made sense) but a specific warning to marry in the temple? Seemed a bit egregious. Fast forward a year. I'm dating her and was in a situation where those admonishments made sense. I was prompted (I think? it's been almost 10 years at this point) to reread my patriarchal blessing and those admonishments really stuck out. I told her, in a very teary skype call the night before I left for college, that this was why we wouldn't work out. She disagreed. Well she won.

I thought that maybe I could still get things to work out. But you can't change people and shouldn't, not like that. Instead I slipped away, little by little, from my already precarious point. But that wasn't her fault.

So what is this blogpost? Like all "On [topic]" posts its only somewhat about that topic. I'm not really here to talk about being warned or my feelings on warnings. No, it's about how when I look back (as I have many times before) I'm reminded that my religious journey back (back up at the very least) really started here. Both with my rejection of the admonishment but also the fact that I looked in the first place. Or that something which at the time seemed so weird ended up mattering. Coincidence? Sure could be, but maybe, just this once, I'll interpret it as something else, something that matters for me.


Saturday, March 25, 2023

Book discussion: Paradise Reclaimed by Halldór Laxness

 So I liked this book but it's definitely a weird one. I get why the intro says that it's not for everyone. The characters can be a bit infuriating. At first glance, it literally goes nowhere. The writing style itself is a bit strange, like it is the transcript of someone telling a story, rather than the story itself being told (which I came to really like). I'm not going to try to avoid spoilers or anything, so adding in a jump break. Beware

Thursday, March 23, 2023

On Stewardship

Short post (am I losing my drive?).

 Stewardship is an interesting thing and really something that should be brought beyond the specific contexts it does (religion and the environment). There's all sorts of things that are not ours and yet we are responsible for them. Protecting them, helping them grow and so forth. It's a good way of framing our responsibilities and remember the importance of the work we are doing.

I write about this because the other day I mentioned that my students are my stewardship. Which isn't a normal way of thinking about being a TA but maybe academia would suck a little less if we did think about it this way. For this semester, I'm in charge of helping this set of students have what they need so that they can learn about this topic. The university has entrusted me with these students and they (can choose to) trust me. I may not be responsible for their success but I am responsible for giving them the tools they need to succeed.

Do my students frustrate me? Yes, absolutely. Undergrads are undergrads and as annoying as I was as an undergrad, undergrads here are going to be worse because they're on average younger and less experienced with the world. Are they awful writers who ask dumb questions answered in the syllabus, assignment prompts or lecture? Yep. Would it be nice if they cared about their grades while doing work and not after I've already graded? Definitely.

But they're my students. I do want them to succeed because why wouldn't I? Even the annoying ones don't deserve to do poorly in life. They have lives ahead of them and while this class may not count for much, it's what's in their lives right now.

By framing their learning in this class as my stewardship, I'm putting more emphasis on my responsibility to help them. And hopefully that trickles down a bit, while helping me be more patient, caring and able to see how I can serve them.


This is really disjointed even for a ramble but whatever

Tuesday, March 21, 2023

A rude question

Doing "On Birds" tomorrow because that one is really dear to me and I might need the pick me up.

I have a coworker with less than stellar social skills. Even by the low standards of academia. One question he likes to ask is "Why aren't you married yet?" This of course is an incredibly rude question. But you know what, he's right in a way. There is a bit of deepness to it and I think it's worth answering. I'm 28, so I've been eligible for quite a while. I'm decently attractive, I'm funny and witty, I'm wickedly smart. I'm a good cook, fairly handy around the house, when I choose to care I do. I may not be rich, but I'm fairly well off given that I'm a grad student and I have a high earning potential (with or without a doctorate tbh). Without context (and especially knowing my religion) it is kind of hard to believe that I'm not married, or at least close to it. It practically begs the question of why. In no particular order (or maybe there is)

Saturday, March 18, 2023

On Hobbies

The other thing I was thinking about while climbing and biking today was about why I have the hobbies I do. Which is a weird thing to think about, except when doing hobbies I guess. Which is what I was doing. Honestly "What hobbies do you have?" is one of the icebreaker questions I hate, which might more sense as this post evolves. I generally just mumble something about biking and climbing and then move on from the topic.

There's many reasons people have hobbies. To have fun. To meet people. Sure this applies to me too, to some extent. I do enjoy climbing and conlanging and writing and the like (not sure if I enjoy biking but I guess revealed preferences say I do. I prefer it to other forms of exercise at least). And I guess I meet people climbing and spend time with them. But is that really why I have the hobbies I do?

I have hobbies because I want to improve myself. I climb and bike and cross country ski because these are way. Climbing is strength training (for my forearms at least) in a much less boring way than lifting weights. Biking and skiing are more enjoyable cardio than running. I enjoy these and they (theoretically) make me healthier and stronger. Hopefully when I express in writing or music I find ways to work through those feelings and overcome them or at least get help. Creating a world requires me to understand the world and learn. Learn about things I might not otherwise. People ask why I know so much. I don't, I just read a lot (of wikipedia).

I have hobbies because I want a refuge of control in my life. I hate feeling like I don't have control over my own life. That's why I'm fiercely independent when it comes to transportation. It's not because I don't appreciate rides but I like having the freedom of movement for myself. Control for when I come and go. When my life is going bad, I sink myself into my hobbies (see: this past month) because at least I have some control there. A world I construct is one that I can guide into what I want it to be. I choose how long I travel and where I go. I choose what problems to work on. I choose what my instruments sound like and how they come together. I am an arranger, nay a creator in my own little space. Beyond returning to me a sense of control, my hobbies can also distract me from my thoughts. That's why this blog exists, basically. 2017, especially early 2017 was a really hard time for me so I buried myself in conlanging here and on reddit.

And yet, I have hobbies to explore the world and maybe even commune, for mere moments, with the divine. There's nothing like a quiet bike or ski trip to clear my head while enjoying nature. Or finding just the right words or right combination of sounds to sort of bring what's in my head into the world. Even something like conlanging has a discovery process. Things just click and feel right for what I'm working on. It's almost mystical in a sense, like I am uncovering esoteric knowledge rather than creating it. I remember one time on my mission, on a p-day or a little before bed (I don't remember) when it came to me that I could use reduplication for all sorts of things. It was a transcendental experience.

I have hobbies for myself and no one else. That's why I write about random topics on a blog no one reads. That's why I make music no one listens to (and I'd be kinda scared if people did listen to it). That's why I partake in the secret vice (truly the loneliest of hobbies, conlanging is). These hobbies work for me and I don't particularly like sharing them. I climb not to hang out with people, but because I like it for myself. I'll go on all sorts of ski trips or bike rides alone because they are for me. I play to no one and I like it that way. That's why I hate the hobby question (also because explaining conlanging is rarely worth the effort. "Oh you make languages? Why?").

I don't excel in many things. I'm a mediocre climber. I bike and ski slowly. My conlangs are far from award winning (though I should have gotten an award for being one of the better trolls on r/conlangs). My writing is sloppy. My music helped inspire a tumblr dedicated to bad music (one of my proudest moments, really). And I don't care because this is for me.


On Liminality

In the strictest sense, liminality refers to the state that you are in during rituals that move you from one state to the next. Or something like that, I'm not an anthropologist. In the modern world, few people encounter many of these rituals. They of course still exist (or at least in a close enough sense). Take the rituals of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (hence called Mormon because I don't have time for political correctness and you all know what I mean). I can think of two that might qualify: baptism-confirmation (the movement between outsider to member), initiatories-endowment (movement from the lower law to a higher law). I thought that sealings may count but on second thought, probably not. There's not really a point when you lose your old status. Honestly even the endowment might be stretching the definition but whatever. And yet, the actual time spent in a liminal state for each ritual is small. A child might spend mere minutes between baptism and confirmation; an adult maybe a day to a week. From initiatory to endowment (or even just from the beginning of the endowment to the end? The end of initiatory to the beginning of the endowment?) is a couple of hours. That's not a long time, since these rites of passage, these rituals are not all consuming.

But liminality in the strict sense isn't what I want to talk about. There's all sorts of times in life, in my own life for sure, where people, like myself, sit in between states, at loss of an identity. In "popular" culture there's a lot of talk about "liminal spaces" such as hallways, airports and train stations where everyone is in transit. The gaps between our destinations. They fascinate certain segments of the internet. But that's not what I mean. I'm talking about certain life stages that people may or may not reach. Aspects of progression wanted (or demanded) by culture and existing between them. It's a subjective liminality, nested liminality, relative liminality. 

Here's an example from my own life. I finished exams in early May, but graduation wasn't until the end of the month. For a few weeks, I existed in this sort of liminality. I was neither student (nothing to study for, no obligation to go to classes etc) and yet I had not yet crossed the threshold to become a graduate. I was nothing (and it felt good, fwiw).

Another example. I will finish my last class in about 6 weeks (give or take). At that point, I will not really be a phd student. However, I don't become a dissertation until I complete the arcane ritual that is the proposal defense (or quit, that's the other way to escape the liminality). Stuck in the middle, neither student nor researcher.

Singles wards are something of a liminal space (especially at universities but I digress). Composed of people who are not children (in fact, from most points of views are adults) and yet not fully entered into adult society. There's a constant churn, people moving in and out, people marrying, even people divorcing. Of course, no one is forced to go to the singles ward but even outside of it they'll always still be in that state. In this sense, the singles ward isn't the cause of the liminal state and the discomfort that comes from being in it. Rather, it is a refuge for those in liminality, those trying to find their way out of it. A place for rituals of the liminal to escape the liminal. Or not.

Life is a liminal space, from an eternal perspective. At some point we begin the ritual of exaltation by coming to Earth. With that comes the stripping away of our divine identity; the veil makes us forget all. We become nothing but the dust of the Earth. We exist in this space but eventually get our memories, our identities back. Some find it sooner than others. Some never complete the ritual. But we all exist in this space for the time being.

Death is a liminal space. Lincoln in the Bardo was a weird book that I only like 3/4 listened to but it does do some interesting things with the idea of death being a liminal space. That being said, from a Mormon perspective death is still a liminal space. You've lost your body and all the good (and bad that comes with that). In prison or paradise, you're stuck until the resurrection. Unable to fully move forward.

Liminal spaces are in liminal spaces. I've existed in liminality for 10 years, mostly but not entirely as a consequence of my choices. I could have tried harder to advance, to cross the threshold, but maybe I've been too comfortable. Maybe it simply wasn't time yet. So I've waited, I don't know for what. And waited. Stood around and waited more. Looked the threshold in the eye and then turned around (and what a good thing that was!). Waited more. Watched others cross, some quickly and some slower. Some had been there before me, some long after. Waiting and watching and waiting and watching and waiting but never crossing and rarely making movement to. Almost more a guard than a participant (or a prisoner?)

Putting all that aside, thinking about this earlier inspired a new song. i stared across the liminoid abyss but made no eye contact. I was thinking about this idea about life being a liminal space but also being full of liminal spaces. More specifically, I was thinking about thresholds we choose to cross (or not). Train stations are sort of the prototypical liminal space (and give more choice than an airport) so I decided to use waiting for a train as a metaphor here. Or more specifically, tell the story of someone waiting for a train but being unsure if they wanted to get on it. Wrote the lyrics pretty quickly and they sounded sort of morbid so I decided to give the song a ridiculously emo title (which of course has meaning on multiple levels). Of course, I had to sample "mind the gap" because it's an iconic subway feature but also because a liminal space is literally a gap and the song is about someone minding that gap, instead of crossing it.

At first I was unsure if I wanted to include this on Fishing for Birds or leave it for Doctrines of Annihilation. Doctrines of Annihilation is meant to be an album about (among other things) depression after all. But it's also about salvation and healing which isn't really whats going on in this song. Fishing for Birds doesn't have an explicit theme but looking back at the songs that have made it on, it does have this underlying idea of growing up, of moving on, of change and how some people change faster than others (and some don't change at all). In a way, the whole album is about liminality. So this song makes a lot of sense for it after all. And at this point, I really just need to finish two more songs to call it done, which is nice.

Tuesday, March 14, 2023

On Labels

It took me a long time to realize that I have some sort of mental health problem (probably multiple sorts). The reason was that sure I felt anxious or sad much of the time. I knew that my dislike of social interactions wasn't (isn't) normal. I knew that most people aren't as moody, as difficult, as surly as I am.

But I didn't accept those labels, or rather apply them to myself because I didn't see myself as fitting close enough to the stereotypes (remember this is supposedly to be a conlanging blog so I was using that group as a reference). Sure I got sad, seemingly for no reason but not so debilitatingly as others. Even at my worse, I might only lying in bed for hours, not days. I have the control to do things I don't want to do like shower and go to class and eat. Clearly not depressed. Plus I do respond to positive stimuli, laugh and smile plenty (even in pretty depressive moods), mostly keep up my humor and so on. On the anxiety side, well yeah I get weird talking to people and push them away (especially if I like them as a friend or otherwise). But I like public speaking, hold myself well in groups and do genuinely enjoy the company of other people (in moderation of course). So clearly not actually anxious.

Building off that, feedback from other people also led to me feeling an imposter of sorts. I get a fair amount of praise from people about how I don't seem to care about others' opinions about me and one friend (when I opened up about some of my anxieties) even told me they had trouble believing it because of said nonchalance. Some of that is due to my general nonconformity but a good portion is actually because I do care a lot, so I pretend I don't to try (and fail) to trick myself. Or how I get praised for being somewhat jolly and being helpful, things not exactly associated with depression. So clearly those labels didn't apply.

Now to get to the actual title of this post. The labels don't matter. Whether or not I fit all the criteria for depression or dysthymia or cyclothymia or anxiety or whatever isn't important. What is important is the qualitatively, I feel bad. Maybe not as bad as other people but that doesn't matter. My own experiences are what matter for me. They influence my choices, my desires, my actions, my life. Labels neither define nor negate me. They're simply there. What's important is understanding what they are meant to signify. And that's what I've finally been able to do these past few months.

Saturday, February 25, 2023

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)