this is my last nadruwrini post.

what i took away from evening at adler was wil shipley of delicious monster fame. no, i didn’t ACTUALLY take him away, he is too heavy for me to lift and he was too busy drinking martinis at the next table anyway. but a few days later, after icerocket and technorati did the heavy lifting for me, i stumbled over this wil shipley:

Depression is a sucky thing to deal with because it doesn’t have much to do with how you’re doing in life. I feel ungrateful every time I get sad, because in general my life really isn’t too hard. I can say to myself, “Look, you’ve proven that you don’t produce enough seratonin, you don’t have to feel guilty for the tricks your brain is playing on you,” but I still feel like a spoiled child.

My discovery is that everyone I meet is broken in some way. As I’ve gotten to know my friends and business associates and girlfriends, I’ve discovered they all have some kind of problem with their emotions. And they all compensate for it in different ways, so it’s hidden from other people most of the time.

A lot of people really resent even the implication that they could be “crazy.” They see taking drugs for it as the ultimate capitulation; that you’ve given in to your craziness and now you’ll be crazy forever. They think it’s a shortcut; you could just “snap out of it, soldier” and be better, but you’re too weak.

Depression isn’t like that, though. You don’t “snap out of it.” There’s a chemical missing in your brain, and your whole life is like those dreams where every action you try to take is hindered by a huge pile of invisible wet blankets. […]

I used to be afraid of being caught in traffic, of being at a new restaurant, of going to the airport, of social situations, of going on any trip longer than an hour. I essentially became completely agoraphobic.

Two days after I got on selective seratonin re-uptake inhibitors for the first time, I felt like the chains that had bound me for 30 years had dropped away. And that totally dropped away two days after starting on drugs. I felt like I’d been crippled all my life and suddenly I could walk. People ask me, “Are you going to be on drugs all your life,” and I say, “I sure hope so!”

and i took away this wil shipley, too:

Depression completely robs you of hope. You don’t believe things can get better, and you don’t believe anything is OK. You look around you and realize that everyone and everything you love is going to go away, sooner or later, and you don’t believe anything good will replace them. Sometimes you just want to self-destruct: you get so tired of waiting for the things you love to abandon you, waiting for that shoe to drop, that you push them away pre-emptorily. Take that, you thing I love, now you can’t hurt me, now I don’t have to live in fear.

and these past few weeks, as i was on hold with 611 in white county and as i stumbled over the steps of the union and as my hair was cut away from me in clumps and as i taped a white sheet of paper over the window and as i pulled the hood over my head and kicked up the iPod volume on my way to finding new places to dwell, those wil shipleys would not go away.

so now i have an appointment at one thirty monday afternoon. we’ll see what happens. i do know that what is happening now can’t happen much longer. 17-year-old Josette is screaming at me about this, but she can just stifle. she didn’t have to support herself. i do.