Another day at the office. Another day of staring at lists, shoving tasks from A to B to C and back, without really accomplishing anything, while the deadlines creep closer and gain momentum. Isn’t that just the perfect time to delve deeper into what I intend to write about?
I am depressed. There is no doubt about that. I have watched and observed my condition growing, changing, mutating over the past two decades or so. And I am not even sure, since when I am aware of what I’m actually dealing with. But it has come apparent to me somewhen, that I must somehow differ from “normal people” (whatever that might mean). Fact is: I seem to be lacking something. I have observed that many people around me seem to have a wide variety of colors at their disposal, through which they experience their lifes. They appear full of emotion, of drive, of motivation, of hopes and dreams. They have a sense of purpose. Many of these feelings seem complicated, abstract, unfathomable and purely theoretical to me. While many people make use of all the colors of the rainbow to paint and enrich their existence, all thats on my palette is black and white. Of course I am able to mix and blend them (or, more precisely, they mostly do that by themselves, without my bidding). But in the end I never manage to go beyond different, dull shades of grey.
My emotional world is simple. I know greed, rage, hurt, envy, jealousy (oh so well), sorrow and grief. It has taken me a while to realize, that others seemingly experience happiness as more than the temporary absence of the grey, that shapes my life. The strange thing is: It is infective. I rarely laugh, I actually barely show any emotion, as long as I am alone. As soon as I am around somebody it almost happens by itself. I joke. I am witty (or at least I perceive myself as such). I talk. All of this comes as a reflex. Almost as if i need the other person as a mirror, as a moel, that shows me how to act and react. This effect only works though, while my attention is directed at another person and, even more importantly, theirs is directed at me. As soon as I lose this link it all goes away – sometimes even if my attachment figure simply turns their back on me: My face freezes, the laughter stops, the illusion of joy is drained away within seconds.
Surrounding myself with people seems to be the obvious solution. But that doesn’t work. It is the grossest feeling in the world, when the smile on my face disappears from one second to another. Then I am left feeling dirty, as if i did something disgusting, someting, that violates my deeply rooted nature. Each time the illusion of normality pops like a bubble and I am left to my own devices, to my own thoughts again, I hate myself even more. And then there is the effort, to make people interact with me, let alone my inability to keep the interaction up. Each time somebody turns away from me, it leaves emptiness and a sense of falure. The inability to kep somebodies attentnion. The obvious uselessnes, that I am. It’s childish. It’s idiotic. I am very well aware of that. But how is somebody, whos emotional range is not much further developed than that of a helpless little child, supposed to conduct themselves, when what they so desperately need is ripped out of their hands once again?
allthatswrongwithme 