The No-Shave November Logs, Day 15: Tell It Like It Is

I don't know whether it's passing the 10 year mark at work, getting such a swift rejection for Monica's Portrait (I totally called that one), or even something as ridiculous as an argument I had with my wife yesterday before work, but I'm really depressed today. In fact, the only reason I'm even bothering to write this is the miniscule possibility that writing about it will make me feel better. So far, it isn't working.

I've struggled with depression my whole life. I'm sure there was a time when I was 3 or 4 years-old when I didn't, but I don't have actual memories of things before I was 5, only scattered images that I can't put in any sort of order. Since then, it's been depression in increasingly regular rotation, and I have to say that it sucks just as much today as it did when I was in first grade.

It's not entirely bleak, I guess. I do take a sort of grotesque pride in being the most cynical person most people I'm acquainted with know. Still, the only reason I carry that dubious honor is because I have literally no hope. I don't believe things will ever get better. To put it another way, I have never understood the horror that most people seem to regard the concept of total oblivion with.

I believe in an afterlife. In fact - based on experiences I've had that I'm not going to share with you, because you wouldn't believe them if I did - I can't not believe in an afterlife, and there are times when that is the only thing keeping me from killing myself. Mind you, that's not because I'm afraid of going to Hell. Unlike many Christians, I don't believe God is either impotent or hateful. It's just that the idea of facing a life that will never end absolutely terrifies me.

I read a horror story once that took place in Hell, and in this particular version of Hell there stood a door which led to a total and ultimate end of existence. The main character wouldn't even consider running through it, because the idea of ceasing to exist was even more terrifying than eternity in Hell. I just couldn't relate. Personally, given the choice between that door and Heaven, I'd choose the door, because the idea of continuing to exist for eternity - in any form - is the most horrifying thing I can imagine.

Well, this whole sharing thing doesn't seem to be helping. Maybe it's a long-term solution, though. We'll see. Hope I didn't drag any of you down with me. If I did, just remember that I'm completely full of shit.

DAILY NO-SHAVE NOVEMBER PIC:

I call this look, Halfway There, I No Longer Care.


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