enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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Small is beautiful

I can really relate to something that Anna wrote about not liking being ill and immobilized. Every time I feel "down" and despairing as I did a bit on Thursday and Friday of this week, I fear myself tumbling down into familiar territory from which I'll have to frantically dig myself out. Again.

Fortunately, it seems to have been a blip induced by period hormones, for I awoke today to rain and nothing else in particular, and yet I feel easy and "normal."

Phew.

I read something absolutely excellent that touched on the manifestations of depression in some people. From the NYT Happy D@ys blog, and an article by Mark D0w:

Steve knew about boredom � he complained about it sometimes � but this repetition wasn�t boring to him, and he didn�t see why it would be boring to someone else. If it�s pleasant to eat one�s favorite foods over and over again, and to imagine eating them, why shouldn�t it be pleasant to say so repeatedly, too? Why do we draw the line where we do? I never came close to an answer until recently, about 20 years later, in a small book my brother Leon gave me, Franz Rosenzweig�s �Understanding the Sick and the Healthy: A View of World, Man, and God.� The sickness in question is paralysis, what we would today probably call clinical depression. It is the patient�s metaphysical prowess that paralyzes him. It has replaced the common sense that once allowed him to accept ordinary things. He can no longer go to the store for butter because, after all, �the butter remembered, the butter desired, and the butter finally bought, are not the same. They may even be quite different.� And yet he is able to make the purchase � or would be able to, if he would just move on.

Tell me if you agree, but this is not a bad description of the way that my brain tortures me. :) I wouldn't call it metaphysical prowess, per se, but rather than any kind of a "black dog" it always feels more as though my brain has gone out of control - that every word, object and experience has an excess of nuance to it: enough nuance to break my heart over and over again.

So!

That's revealing.

But fortunately I continue to do well.

I still felt rather pissy this morning.

Last night C. and I watched the movie Milk, which impressed me, actually. I thought it was affecting. I felt glad to be Canadian.

Small (and tolerant) is beautiful.

Have you ever read that book "Small is Beautiful"? (by Schumacher). As with Jane Jacobs, I wonder why people always do what is the opposite of what common sense and basic human decency readily dictate.

Well. This makes me sound grumpy today. Am probably overthinking again.

Today I'm going to read a bit more of the Edith Wharton biography (Hermione Lee). It's an excellent, excellent biography, but my goodness is it ever dense. I feel as though it's going to take a year to finish. I was reading it in bed as I do before I sleep, and I found I was falling asleep over it. I had to switch for bedtime reading to a novel.

It's raining again today. Everyone else will be miserable and I can't go out on my bike, but I rather like the rain.

Have a nice weekend.

11:11 a.m. - 2009-08-02

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