I’ve seen all these countries now, and it made me long for a simpler life. I’m not sure I know what all this is about anymore. Do you? We used … Continue reading Dear A.
I was just struck by how much I loved you in such a brief time. Friends on the road come and go, and it would never cross my mind to … Continue reading Dear S.
I’ve been reading lots of letters and they seem so much better than a diary. The idea that you might read these one day makes it so much more comforting, … Continue reading Dear A.
I have recently found a new problem (which is great for staying busy with small stuff and distracting yourself, try it!). The problem was I had to learn to listen … Continue reading overbrain: on hearing one another
After living with depression for years, emptiness becomes part of your being. Everything that is supposed to hurt sparks a melancholic nothing.
And once recovered, real, sharp, crippling pain comes as a shock to the system. A new vulnerability appears on set.
Perhaps it is different for people who become depressed later in life, but after being emotionally dead for a large part of your teenage years, learning to cope with intense emotions comes as a surprise. Suddenly, the loss of a friend you’ve known only briefly can be tragic. The pain is new and raw and almost unbearable. But there is no letting go, because the only thing worse than excruciating hurt is drowning in nothing again. And so we claw into any emotion, even pain, like it is a lifeline. Because it is. And we’re alive again.
I want in on the inventing-new-words business. The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows does a great job describing feelings we never had words for. For example, sonder (n): the realization that each passerby has a life as vivid and complex as you own.
I need a word that describes the emotion associated with realizing that no matter how unbearable and cruel life becomes, time doesn’t halt. You never get a break from living on, you’re never spared the next minute even though you might be one-hundred percent convinced that you cannot go on. There is no way you are able to keep living, not because you’re suicidal but simply because you lack the ability to face another second passing. A subtle reminder that this universe isn’t about you and doesn’t revolve around you, but keeps on moving forward regardless of the petty events of your life.
If we acknowledge passion doesn’t fall into our lap and is a skill we can learn, how do we become more passionate?