actuality.log


Friday, May the 12th, 2006

Out of the blue, a woman approached Jack earlier today and asked him if he was doing OK. Apparently, she felt he was looking “out of sorts” and—being the good samaritan that she is—wanted to make sure nothing was up. Jack lies about everything being perfectly fine; and makes something up about just having a “very long day,” brought about by a looming deadline. She said she knew what that was like, and soon continued on her merry way.

Who is he kidding? Jack hasn’t met a single deadline in months… years? Barely existing, it’s not like Jack cares about deadlines anymore. It’s not like Jack cares about anything, anymore.

The depressing bit about crippling depression is that it’s crippling.

People seem to be under the misconception that depression has something to do with being sad. Jack knows that this is not true. The two emotions operate on such different levels, that it is as though they are entirely unrelated. Depression is a veil that cloaks Jack’s state of mind on so many levels that it sometimes feels to him like he’s being choked.

He’s always exhausted, and even forcing himself to sleep more than 10–12 hours each night makes no difference. Keeping his eyes open is a chore. Moving is a chore. Observing is a chore. Thinking is a chore. Just being is a chore. There is no scope for productive pondering, let alone getting any work done under such a situation. You just exist, should you choose to.

From the later and later starts to his days to their earlier and earlier ends, Jack barely manages to wallow along; almost struggling like a man who’s been crippled by war. Nothing matters to him. The things he was once passionate about—the ones he derived pleasure pursuing—feel insurmountably hard just to attempt. He just doesn’t want to, and doesn’t even see the point anymore.

As if this weren’t bad enough, Jack’s body soon begins to get into the act as well. In an attempt to match its state with Jack’s mannerisms, it begins to break-down and start to hurt, almost without reason. The response is sympathetic, but the pain is real. With that nagging lower back—caused by little more than thought—lasting over months, Jack is now truly crippled; intellectually, emotionally and physically. Forget fancy yoga, Jack has trouble with the laces on his shoes.

Jack has attempted numerous ways to turn the tide. He’s switched sleep hours, dietary routines, and even attempted an exercise regimen. He’s tried everything from buying karma—giving away all that he has to help poor kids—to hoarding every last penny and buying bigger and shinier stuff for himself. He’s found fun activity partners and introduced some structure into his work hours. He’s tried all of this and so much more, but they just don’t work; the resolute veil refuses to rise.

The depressing bit about crippling depression is that it’s crippling.

This is a printer-friendly version of the journal entry “On Jack’s crippled existence” from actuality.log. Visit http://emphaticallystatic.org/earlier/on-jacks-crippled-existence/ to read the original entry and follow any responses to it.

8 Responses to “On Jack’s crippled existence”

  1. pUl| says:

    “From the later and later starts to his days to their earlier and earlier ends, Jack barely manages to wallow along; almost struggling like a man who’s been crippled by war.”

    Ironic but priceless.

    It is times like these that one starts to ponder over reasons for existence. Things that were at some time taken quite seriously are now looked upon casually. As easy as it is, to pin all this down as sheer lack of motivation, it is equally difficult to find a single rational purpose, an omnipresent drive, a splinter-like reason to justify the need to move on. “What next, and to what end?” is the dreadful question that keeps looming all over. It’s a pity, life doesn’t feature any background music…

  2. pundit says:

    I didn’t and don’t pin it down to lack of motivation. I probably use the term “unmotivated” around people like my parents, because it’s just much less scary for them, and there’s much less explaining for me to do. Try telling your parents that you don’t see “the point in it all” anymore, and insist that you’re perfectly OK. They won’t listen, and will think you’re suicidal or something.

    Clearly, I’m looking for a reason to wake up in the morning. And by now, I hope your questions about the change in computer are answered. It was never about the computer; it was about wishing that something cute would cheer me up. And yes, the Mini Cooper has nothing to do with the Mini Cooper either.

  3. pUl| says:

    Firstly, I never had you in mind when I wrote that up. I was thinking about Jack. My apologies if I misunderstood. Nevertheless, the fact remains that if someone is strongly motivated toward a cause, the possibility of such thoughts crossing the mind are almost non-existant.

    “…Try telling your parents that you don’t see “the point in it all” anymore, and insist that you’re perfectly OK. They won’t listen, and will think you’re suicidal or something…”

    An interesting exercise. I’ll keep that in mind ;)

  4. pundit says:

    You didn’t misunderstand; I thought of this, but didn’t type it out. The final sentence in my post should have been, “Where, by ‘I’, I mean ‘Jack’, of course.”

    The problem as I see it begins when you begin to pooh-pooh all such “worthy” causes. What happens when you begin to realise that there isn’t much (or anything) to justify what you described an “omnipresent drive?”

  5. pUl| says:

    “What happens when you begin to realise that there isn’t much (or anything) to justify what you described an “omnipresent drive?”

    Precisely. You hit the nail right on the head. The way I see it, everyone makes at least one attempt toward finding such a reason. Some give up sooner, some later. But eventually, *everybody* does give up[1]. Several factors catalyze this. In most cases, all it requires is a sharp smack from reality. If everything that had to happen or that happens, has a rational reason to justify its happening, there would be no scope for such discussion. What, if asked, would one describe as his/her drive for whatever it is they do? Eventually, one is either too bored or too tired to continue playing this game and settles for something decent enough to ensure survival in addition to a sufficient drive for existence. Even something as fatuous as the continuous thought of becoming famous can fuel more than enough motivation to keep moving on.

    It is easy to put on a practical hat and dismiss all such talk. But the question still remains unanswered. If only one could provide a rational reasoning for existence. This isn’t the search for a “worthy” cause. It is a search for “the” cause.

    [1] And by give up I mean give up this thought and engross themselves in other activities. This is what the world does today. You, me, everyone.

  6. pUl| says:

    And just where are the google ads? I’ve been looking around carefully for quite some time.

  7. pUl| says:

    Gasp! Where’s wahgnube.org?

  8. pundit says:

    o I think we’re getting into semantics here, but I keep harping upon “worthy” causes because it’s easy enough—in theory—to find “a” cause that drives you to do your best and keeps you occupied. Wouldn’t, I don’t know, wanting to dote on treat your adoring partner like a queen (or king) be a cause? I’m sure such a cause will keep many people motivated, occupied, and happy.

    But is it a “worthy” (whose definition is nebulous in itself) cause?

    I said we’re getting into semantics, because what I call “worthy,” you’re calling “the.” And what I call “not necessarily worthy,” you’re not even classifying them as causes.

    o There won’t be ads unless I am absolutely strapped for cash. Which I amn’t.

    o Since it wasn’t updated in years, I decided to direct people to a site that is.


1 people conned into wasting their bandwidth.