On the Phenomology of Depression

I'd say most of the time I'd depressed, it's mostly just being low energy. I sleep too much, I have trouble getting out of bed. I wake up in the middle of the night and then fall back asleep. I'm tired all day and take lots of little naps. I have no motivation to do much of anything. Work. Hobbies. Video games. Hanging out with people. Even eating, though once food is in front of me I'll do it. 

I don't necessarily feel emotionally bad. Like sure I don't feel happy or even good but it's not like I feel sad, really. I just am. Low mood/emotions can coincide with this mild depression though. It's just not the defining feature.    

For the most part I can push through this. I can get up (with effort), put on a smile and move on. My work will be slower, it will be worse. I'll be exhausting myself keeping my mask on. But I make it through it. This is the depression that makes me feel the most like an imposter, in a way. I'm wearing a mask of myself as I wait for my face to regrow.

Sometimes, the depression gets more physical. Like a pit in my throat or stomach. Just generally feeling physically bad. Not common, but maybe every few days during an episode. Maybe less. It might not even last much of a day.

The bad moods, the sad moods don't necessarily coincide with these physical feelings but sometimes they do. I feel overwhelmed, like I'm treading water and can barely keep my head above. I feel stressed, but not an ordinary sort of stress. No, a stress about nothing, even when there is something to be stressed about. These moods used to have a lot more self-loathing and guilt. Not so much now. I've cleaned up my life and have developed a healthier sense of self-esteem which has made it hard to get hooked this way. That being said, when the moods come, they will eventually find something to sink their claws into and pull me down. And then I either have to wait for the feelings to subside or hope something, someone knocks me out of them.

I used to have a lot of trouble crying. At the very least it wasn't a common occurrence. Based on this blog, that's clearly changed. Crying helps. Doing things helps. It tends to wash (with time) the bad feelings away for a while. 

They are rare, but occasionally I have suicidal thoughts. I've never gotten anywhere beyond passive ideation (and well, maybe fantasizing dying, but never actually making plans) but they're still really scary. Wanting to self-harm is more common (and I think some of my common coping mechanisms, like intensive, reckless cardio when I feel down actually come from that) but I've managed to resist the urge for almost a decade now. In general I think both of these have gone down a lot compared to my early adulthood.

Most people don't know I'm depressed. In fact very few do and even the ones I've told don't realize the extent. I don't blame them at all. I laugh and I smile. I do get happy when I'm with people, generally speaking, so it's not like I'm lying to them in the moment. But that's what they see and so when I say that I'm sad, they don't know what to believe. They don't know I was crying minutes before, that I put the smile on just for them before I opened the door. No one knows.  

I want to scream my feelings out. I want to tell everyone that I'm hurting. And yet when push comes to shove, I never do. Or I do but in a way that comes of as incredulous. Because that's how I am.  

I don't want to go to institute. I want to stay in my office and mope and think about how much everything hurts and how I'm sad and maybe cry. 

I am going to institute because what I want isn't healthy. Being around people is. Participating in life, even if just a bit, that's what I need to do. 

ugh

It's 2:30 and I'm tired but also can't fall asleep. Usually insomnia doesn't bother me that much but maybe right now it is because I don't really have anything keeping me up? I'm not anxious about or excited by anything. There's nothing on my mind really. Is it just ennui? Is it my bad diet? I don't know. 

I gotta get up early too, to go running.

On the prodigal son (but really his brother)

The parable of the prodigal son is a well known one that lots of people can relate to. I sure can, as has been hinted at and even discussed on this blog. Maybe I never went fully to the far off country, but I sure did in my heart.

More importantly though, I relate strongly to the elder brother. And not in a good way. To me, his story is ultimately one about resentment. The sort of resentment that you can't really know without being the eldest. And I hate that about myself and it definitely reflected in my comments about this parable during institute. 

Resentment about feeling like you always have to be the stable point in the family. Resentment about feeling that you need to be perfect, because you are the example and if you aren't perfect all your siblings' failures are your fault. Resentment about your asceticism and martyr complex that may have developed because the oldest has to be the protector and you felt like you could never have anything until you made sure that everyone else's needs were met first. Resentment about being taken for granted because you were always there and you felt like no one needed to express their appreciate, because helping is just what you do and everyone knows that. Resentment about how they had so much more growing up than you did (not that your childhood was horrible or anything, just a function of family money). Resentment about how you felt you could never ask for help from the parents because they only have so much time and money. Resentment about how you felt you had to work and study twice as hard to keep your scholarships because you didn't want to be more of a financial burden than you already were since there's still 5 siblings who need to get through college and well, you're the perfect one who can be trusted to carry this burden. Resentment about how you felt you had to be the perfect mormon boy and couldn't be openly apostate because even though you weren't sure you believed anything you didn't want that to rub off on your siblings. Resentment about how you're an intensely private person because you didn't want to burden your parents or them with the details of your private life. Not that you had any privacy growing up anyway. 

And jealousy. Jealous of the relationships you never had with your siblings that they have with each other and with your extended, because you moved 9000 miles away when they were still young and never got the chance to know them as teenagers or adults. Jealous of the trips you never went on because you were working or studying or just too far away. Jealous of the experiences you never had. Jealous of the parental support they got (like actually getting a therapist) and you never did because your parents learned a lot raising you they probably couldn't apply to you. I mean it's pretty fucked up when your kid gets so angry about a game that he decides he's going to commit suicide by standing in a river until he gets hypothermia and dies. And then he actually stands in the river. Obviously it wasn't a very credible threat but surely worth a follow up visit with a shrink when you finally had a home again, especially when your son already had a long history of (attention seeking) self destructive behavior and mood issues.  

And they probably resent you too. Because you're grumpy and moody and angry. Because you're withdrawn, especially at family gatherings, and hide yourself and don't talk about your life or your feelings and you refuse to open up. Because you're mean and competitive and always itching for a fight. Because you're self centered and an attention seeker and dominate every conversation you are in. Because you're perfect and everyone admires you and you set the bar so high and tear anyone who gets too close down. Because there's no doubt you'll be successful and your life is already so well put together (lack of girlfriend aside, but you probably have a secret one anyway, since it's not like you ever tell them about your private life and you do have a history of secret girlfriends). Because you're free and independent and have been since they were young (and even in high school got away with all sorts of things they never could).

The elder brother would have gone into the party eventually. He wasn't actually angry about it, not in the long run. He loved his brother, I'm sure he did. He just needed time to process the fact that his brother was back. He needed time to process that all those demands he felt, the demand to be perfect and to be a good example and to work twice as hard to make up for his brother, weren't demands from his father but demands he created out of thin air for himself. He just needed to process that his father did love him, for who he was and not what he did (or didn't) do. It was never about the fatling.

And maybe he was throwing a tantrum because he didn't know how to open up about this to himself or to others. Maybe he was just looking for someone to ask him how he was doing. And maybe you do the same thing. Want the same thing. Maybe the reason you're so rebellious is because you want someone to stop you and ask you why you are acting like this. Maybe part of the reason you ruined a family temple trip was so that someone would confront you about it and ask you why you're refusing to renew your recommend. Maybe what you really fear was what you got, quiet acceptance and disappointment, nothing more. Maybe you want your family to pry more into your personal life. Maybe you want permission to be open. Permission you don't need but want anyway.

I love my family. I really do. I don't know how to express that to them. I don't know how to let them know that I care a lot. That I think about them and how they're doing all the time. That I'm proud of their achievements. That I'm proud of who they're growing to be, who they've grown to be. That I'm sorry for how terrible of a brother I've been a lot of the time. That I'm working on being happier and fixing what's wrong with my brain. So that maybe I can one day tell them this. That I don't really resent them (even if everything I said is based in truth) but sometimes I tire of fighting my demons. Or since they all saw Suzume, sometimes there's a big black cat god behind me.  

An existential question (or not)

Sad posting again already because apparently I was just in the eye of the storm and had a mini breakdown in the shower, followed by actually crying while writing this. (Also the skiing conditions were absolutely miserable yesterday though I'm glad I went. Did dampen my enthusiasm for going out this morning though).

"Why am I here?" is one of the most common existential questions. We humans crave having meaning to what we do and that meaning can come from a lot of different sources. We need to decide what the answer is for ourselves, since our experience of the world is what drives our actions, independent of any objective actual truth.

That's not what I mean by this question though. I mean quite literally "Why am I here, in this city, in this program?" When people ask me why I chose to be here, I dance around the question. I'll say things like "there were professors I wanted to work with" or "It's a good program" or even "It felt right" without explanation. But those are non-answers since they don't address why I chose this program over others (more specifically a well regarded California program). I don't talk about that, even with members, because it's a deeply personal, even spiritual experience (in fact, I consider it one of my anchor points for why I stay). Those outside the faith couldn't understand. Those inside can understand, but may also understand why I hate sharing these sorts of things.

But I'm going to talk about it now because it is important for the question I posed earlier. I think it was back in early 2018 when my current institution first came on my radar. I was looking at potential masters programs across a variety of fields and learned said institution was highly rated in a certain field (not my current field of studies). Nothing came of that, but it did plant seeds in my mind. Fast forward to spring of 2019 when a recruiter for a local tech company reached out to me. I wasn't interested in it (and later learned I really dodged a bullet) but yet more seeds were planted. In late 2019, when I decided that I would go to grad school, I remembered that masters program I looked at years before and saw how my current program was rated and decided I'd apply for phd programs along with a couple masters programs as back up (lol). I finished my application here the day before it was due, well after the priority deadline and got an acceptance letter back very quickly after that. But that's not the personal part. The main rival school on paper was a better fit. Slightly higher ranking and better placements. Professors more closely aligned with my interests. Closer to family. Better weather. More opportunities for field work and for studying the things I wanted to study (like the intersection between agriculture and development). But when I attended this school's grad day zoom call (thanks Covid) I strongly and repeatedly felt that I should go here. Looking back at my notes, I have things like "felt an impression here" and lots of circles, underlines and exclamation points. I didn't know why (I thought it might've been about working with certain professors or centers here but now I don't think that's the case, more on that later) but for once in my life I decided to actually act on them. I decided to come here and it felt right then even though no rational person should have made this choice.

So here I am, almost 3 years after that day and over 2.5 since I moved here (by September, it will be the longest I've lived in one place since middle school, some 14 years). I'm miserable. Despite at one point being my cohort's star (and honestly, probably still am at least for dev) I feel abandoned by the department. One professor I was planning on working with suddenly retired, another one doesn't want to advise me despite everyone else thinking we should work together (and to be fair our interests have diverged in the last 3 years anyway). I can't put together workable research project, let alone one that someone is willing to sponsor or advise on. It's been 4 years since I've left the country and I feel trapped. 

And yet, despite so desperately wanting to just quit I still keep getting that feeling that I'm still supposed to be here. Such a strong feeling. For a long time I thought it was for my intellectual benefit but as outlined above, I now don't think that's the case. So I have no idea why I'm here and it's driving me crazy. I'm so tired of not knowing.

I finally got around to watching Your Name the other week (a birthday present to myself). I loved it. Anyway, I'm thinking of it now. Not the soulmates stuff (since that's bull) but the idea of going through our life feeling like you're looking for something but not knowing what it is. A person? A place? A job? The ambiguity is distressing.

Am I here because there's someone I'm supposed to meet (for their edification or mine or both)? Have I already met them but just haven't done what I'm supposed to do? Am I supposed to be here so that someone else comes here and does what they're supposed to do? Is there something I'm supposed to learn here? Something I could only do here? Or would be in the best circumstances to do here? Why does it feel like I've been drawn to this city of all places for years? Why am I here and will this feeling ever go away?

All I have to go on is a line in my patriarchal blessing (for whatever that's worth; I certainly have found comfort in it before but it's definitely filtered through man and man's interpretation). "I bless you to realize that the Lord will place you in circumstances and locations which will be for His purposes which will be an eternal blessing for you." Reading this again today left me crying (second time in one day, I'm a real wreck). I can only assume that me being here has something to do with that but it's not much to go on.

Anyway, I need to get on with my day. Can't just mope.

Melancholic Bitch

No, that's not what I am. Rather it's a band I really like (been a fan since 2013, when they did a concert at @america and I was the official US representative) that just released a new album. Sounds great right? It is...if you live in Indonesia and can actually get a hold of one of their CDs. Only the single is on their youtube/soundcloud and so far there doesn't seem to be any other way to get the album proper. But hey, album+shirt+concert is only like $15 if you happen to be in the right area.

So yeah, it makes me happy, but also sad because I want listen. Word on the street is that it is good. It was hard enough finding their last album, Balada Joni dan Susi.

Diachronic conlangs

Yeah, I've been really lazy about updating. Still doing plenty of conlanging, as can be seen on reddit, just not updating here. I've been working on a big "papualang" project. But I'm getting on to do a minor, inconsequential rant about conlanging.

One thing that many conlangers like to do is diachronics, so deriving languages from other languages. That's cool and all, especially when done a posteriori (and well) or for a conlang family. Even I'm part of a diachronics project. My problem isn't with diachronics.

No it's the whole thing where you create a proto-language for only one daughter language and even more the idea that this makes the daughter lang inherently better. Why does this bug me? Because it doesn't make the language actually more realistic, especially since many of the sound changes and grammatical changes found in the daughter langs might have been a stretch to occur naturally. Also it leads to this weird idea that proto-languages were more regular than daughter langs, which isn't actually true. The other thing that bugs me about this is that the proto-lang itself is still a conlang. It's not like you made the conlang less constructed. If you have no plan on making a language family, why do the protolang. You're getting all the features you wanted anyway, but now you are taking extra steps. Just make the language without those steps.

It's a minor gripe. I'm not going to discourage people from making proto-langs, not at all. It's mostly harmless. But I do wish more people understood that proto-langs are reconstructions and aren't what people actually spoken. Are they close? In many cases, yes, probably, at least somewhat. Of course there's dialects in real protolangs, something not often reflected in constructions, academic or otherwise (at least as far as I have seen). That's okay, it's difficult to do, but people gotta remember this.