Monthly Archives: August 2015

Creeping Depression and Writer’s Block (A Word-Vomit)

In perfect form, I’ve gone all summer without posting anything on this blog. Also in perfect form, I’ve done very little writing since the summer began…and now it’s almost September. I suppose that’s how things go sometimes.

It hasn’t been an easy summer. I think, since graduating high school, there’s been an underlying dread attached to every thought of leaving home or being in college. Honestly, I don’t fully want to do it. Until September 3, I’m still in my home town, sitting around drinking coffee and pretending to be productive. I know that, for my own best interest, I need to get away. But I also know that, for my own selfish interests, I want to stay and have nothing change.

Besides my reluctance to hop the nest, I’m dealing with the long-term post-breakup depression that literally every other incoming college freshman is probably experiencing on some level. Who hasn’t had a breakup before going off to their first year of college? Happy people, maybe. I haven’t really felt happy in a while. That’s a scary thing, if you’ve never experienced it. I don’t actually know if I’ll be happy today, because I know my mind can concoct reasons not to be…no matter the beauty of a thing. I find myself lingering on questions that should have been answered two months ago. I find myself worrying about my quality as a human, as a significant other. I find myself wondering how I could have been different, and if I even should have been.

Those are the big things. And they’re trying to command the forefront of my attention. When I let them, I spiral. It’s hard not to spiral because it’s so easy.

It’s not like I’m creatively spent, of course. I don’t think that’s possible for sardonic teenagers. I get new ideas every day. What if a man was trapped inexplicably in a house with four locked, multicolored doors? What if a time-traveler was forced to stop traveling, confined to a containment unit, watching his friends and loved ones age without him? What if a small town was trapped by a gang of malevolent, bodiless witches?

Oh, look! Common themes: Capture. Containment. Helplessness. I wonder where those narrative delicacies came from.

I know I need to get out. I know I need a change. But change is scary. Change is things you’re not prepared for, things you’ve never dealt with. And it only makes it worse that everyone’s left already, or will be gone soon. In a month this will seem trivial, irrelevant. Now it’s scary. So when, aside from that, you’re also dealing with writer’s block, a debilitating ailment that renders people like me completely useless, you can see how things become a little hazy mentally. I’m keeping myself up by reading and going for walks, but I just have to wait. I can only hope that in the future, my writing returns to me. I really need it to, because I don’t know that I can function without it.

12:46 PM

J

Listen to: “L’America” by the Doors

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