Saturday, December 30, 2006

Winge-ing, Whine-ing Blog Posts

I started to write this yesterday, when all I could do was winge and whine. Today I'm better, so maybe I'll write about it.

I hate myself when I get all drooly, drippy, moany on paper. I have kept journals for most of my adult life and they are, in the main, a partial record of my depressions, bad moods, story ideas, and rage at who- or what-ever. I still have most of them, scattered here and there, in leather-backed books (when it seemed like posterity might beckon), three-ring binders, legal tablets, school notebooks, and loose, just floating around scraps of paper.

I say they're a partial record because I've never made it through an entire year. In fact, safe to say, I never made it much past February or March. The weight of all that angst would get to me after a while and I would have to abandon my intention to document my life, moment by moment, as it happened. Sometimes I was frugal (or lazy or damning posterity) and continued from one year to the next in the same book. Like this one, first dated January 3, 1972; last entry November 20, 1979. It goes from the London to the LA-I years; from married to not-married; from bravely unhappy to unhappily brave. Winge-ing and Whine-ing, but whistling a happy tune.

It might be interesting to go through them all and see what, say, January 7th brought me from year to year. Might be interesting; might be boring; might be incredibly depressing, I suspect, to see how little my inner life has changed. Oooops, there I am drifting down into a winge.

Because I hate how I sound in this state, I don't often post in my blog when I'm down. I know there are whole blogs devoted to depression and that they're seen by readers as being incredibly helpful. I dunno. I'll tell you all about it person-to-person, but in a public forum, the best you'll get is my dancing around the subject. Which is what I'm doing here, obviously. Pirouette, plie, grande jete, pas de chat....

I don't even have a label for depression. And that, suddenly, strikes me as dishonest. So here I am, ripping off the costume, shedding the mask, dropping the pose. I'm depressed, bummed, pissed off at my life. There, I said it. And now I want to get off the stage as fast as I can...

1 comment:

  1. Blurry and distorted decision making capabilities are from being off our true path, and they get worse as we get further away. Each must find their gift(s) and be their awesome and wonderful self to the best of their ability and put out as much good energy as they can. The answers are all easy, we always know our true paths unless very, very far from them. It’s the choices we make. Life is merely the consequences of our own decisions.
    Free will is the choice each has every moment to decide either to be our awesome and wonderful self or our fragile bag of shit self.
    With balance, control, and understanding of good and bad energy, paying attention, being aware internally and externally, learning and growing, gathering consciousness, one is better at being their awesome and wonderful self more moments. Put enough moments together and your dreams come true. Absolutely!
    My sincerest best thoughts and good energy for health, happiness and harmony.

    Sapere aude!
    Peace, Light and Love
    Rob @
    I was asked to post here by someone who cares. :-) Sending you love and light.


So--whaddaya think?