Very cool, if true

depression.

I have very often gotten this confused with the downside of my obsessive disorder, but very recently I had a powerful moment of clarity:

drum rehearsal. I'm late because I feel like absolute shit. I have no energy, no desire, I'm going because I said I'd go. I can hear the pattern clearly from outside, but I don't know it [I have lacked the energy or enthusiasm to actually learn this stuff properly].

I go in. I see my fellow drummers playing, some cheery, some frustrated. I feel absolutely nothing.

I start playing. People cheer at my arrival. I'm one of the better players, and am very loud. At least two other bassists watch me for cues 90% of the time we play. I pick up the pattern instantly, begin playing.

I feel, physically, freezing cold. There's no emotional connection to anyone there [some of whom are my closest friends], no pleasure at all in playing. I have to take my top off because I'm sweating.

Another pattern, one I don't recognise. It's horrible. It makes no sense. It sounds shit. It's overly complex and it'll take me weeks to learn.
I learn it instantly. My mind is completely clear. There's no thought, no emotion. I'm not mentally there, and nothing matters except this drum pattern.

One of my close friends notes my... mood? and asks if I feel ok. I give a very brief shake of the head: negative. Very much not OK.

She stops playing, starts giving me a shoulder massage. I can feel it happening, but that's it. She keeps going for a while, then gives me a massive hug from behind. I still feel nothing. I start playing another pattern. She stops the hugging, tells me everything'll be fine very soon.

I recognise her words, and their meaning, but I know that if I let myself feel anything, I will break. I remain ice.


the only thing I can do, other than stand and breathe, is drum. So that's what I do. I can't speak, can't look at anyone. If I do I'll break.

The session ends. My friend asks me if I'm ok to carry on. I tell her I don't know, and I break.
I grab her and cry. I tell her I'm painfully close to quitting. I just cannot fucking do it. Life is a nightmare, and I can't see a way out.

she says that's ok. They'll manage without me, but not nearly as well. I should take a couple of days out to think it over.

everyone else goes to the pub. I get on my bike and head home, blurred vision the whole way, shaking constantly.

I get home and collapse on the couch, and cry till I can't anymore.

next day I go to uni, remain the walking dead.

the weekend I ask myself a very simple question: will I feel better or worse if I quit.

the answer: this is not the problem. it's just the easiest thing I could possibly control.

the fact I can think that is a massive breakthrough. A few years ago, that thought would have been impossible.

I keep going, not because the drumming is important or good or worth the effort, but because *not* going will fix absolutely nothing.

if I feel dead, I may as well be a useful corpse

the rest of the world can just carry on not existing for a little while.