A hit of acid can change the world. Everything is brighter, crisper and more defined – you notice variances of color that your eyes would just pass over before. The whole world is a new place that you want to explore and experience. Anything that is normally dull and boring is suddenly the most relevant thing in existence – and the previously wonderful are indescribable. A trip made everything better than alright and nothing could ever stop how that felt (time apparently does 😉 ). That doesn’t include the non-stop smiling or the ability to not feel alcohol’s effects until the trip has ended. I really enjoyed LSD when I could get it and wasn’t committed to a life of sobriety (one day at a time).
On the flip side, the dark side, in sobriety and real life – depression is the opposite.
Its an uncomfortable feeling and it surrounds me. Most of life is darker and dimmer, all the edges are dull and boring. There is a small voice inside that tells me to get out, to move or do something – but the stronger voice says “why bother” or “it won’t help anyway, this is what you deserve”. Every task seems insurmountable – doing laundry or dishes, shaving even brushing my teeth; none of that matters because nothing matters at all. The bed is safe and dangerous – you know it’s not good for you but you just want to lie there curled up in the blankets in the silence and listen to your own mind tell you what an awful person you are. A shower seems too much of a chore, so does eating or watching TV. Part of lying there makes you feel … “ok” isn’t the right word… it’s a feeling of blah but it’s almost an even feeling with less of the other thoughts and feelings.
I can go to work and meetings like that – I learned in AA how to “fake it til you make it”. I can force the smile to the co-workers and try to remember to smile on the phone, but that’s harder. They don’t need you or want you there anyway, all you do is screw up and make more work for others. Why you thought you could do this is beyond comprehension, no one needs you. So you try to stay busy and take on extra tasks to keep your mind from trying to fuck you. But then you have a moment, that’s all it takes one little moment of time and the committee starts up again and you start to believe them. I can shake hands and pretend – ask them about them and deflect anything about you. The smiles are harder to fake at meetings – they’ve been in these dark places and sometimes still visit. But many won’t say anything – experience shows it’s a lonely journey and not much can penetrate the cloud that surrounds you.
People have died younger than this and the world was likely better off. What difference would today make that I have to wait another ten years for? I’m really just poisoning the world with my continued existence, everything would be better if I weren’t. Then the ideas come, the different ideas that spawn when you think of end times – some are rather creative – most are not. Most just want a quick, painless end to everything – a blackness that would make the small glimmers of hope disappear and leave me in comfort.
In bed by 8, asleep until 5 and still tired. Depression is draining. Still want to stay in bed and not participate, still want to lie there under the covers and contemplate, everything else can wait.
Dumb thoughts just bombard me at all times of day and night and the committee feeds off them – giving me no end to crazy ideas for how to make it better. I ignore most of them – but I do go get my head shaved, that usually makes me feel nice and refreshed – but not this time. Food tastes blah so even favorites aren’t something I want, half eaten meals are the rule during the storm.
Then after days, I guess it was a week, the clouds broke. The sun shone again inside and I felt something that didn’t seem to be a dark trap. I didn’t do anything different, it just started to get better. It’s been a few weeks now and today there are some remnants of it still here with me. There is a part of me that was comfortable in the uncomfortableness. A sense of doom can be a blanket you wrap around you to survive the storm.
I wanted to see if I could capture what it’s felt like for the last few weeks, but I’m not sure this did it justice. I’m feeling better today, mostly. And the stuff at the beginning with LSD was a long time ago, but I still think it’s true – great little drug.
You captured depression pretty well. I liked your sharing about that. I’m jealous that I didn’t get to hear it in person. But you shared it……that is most important to me. I believe you left out that you were physically sick. We alcoholics don’t do sick well. In fact many drink, drug or relapse because of the sickness or the drug that is supposed to help with the cure. Always on the alert when sick. HALTS.
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