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Marc Mason is a freelance writer based in Tempe, AZ.

Friday, March 19, 2004  
Looking For A Handhold

You see various means of escape here and there. Wednesday, you go see one of your favorite bands in concert. The NCAA Tournament begins, and that's always an interesting diversion. There's more live music on tap for tonight. It's something to keep you busy as you try and find a grip on the side of the crater and start climbing out.

But there are always forces aligned against you, even when you are happy, and this week is no exception. Those poor people in Spain who died in an action that allowed terrorists to essentially rig an election. Work pressing down on you and stressing you out. Horrible, strange dreams that plague and haunt your nights. What good is it to sleep for ten hours if you wake up feeling physically destroyed? Not to mention the recurring nightmare that the most evil and corrupt administration running this country since Woodrow Wilson still has a chance to be re-elected. Fuck almighty.

When I get depressed, I experience an unusual "disconnect" that makes me feel like I am operating my life from just left of my body, shuddering and screaming helplessly as I watch the events around me taking place. I guess this probably stems from my ability to remain detached from a great deal of life's emotional chaos even when I am feeling well. But the shitty thing about depression for me is that there is no remote control... and I can't shut off the damned TV.


3:07 PM

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