If you are feeling half dead, is that a bad thing? I would say so. It means you aren’t able to enjoy the pleasures (or pains) of being alive. It means you can’t tell if you are doing things because you genuinely want to, or if you are just trying to keep yourself out of that pit of despair. And the same goes for decisions. I frequently feel I could go either way on matters, and the direction I do go is chosen out of convenience or fear, not from true desire.
Sometimes I am more aware of my mild depressiveness than other times. But I am essentially noticing that I have one foot in the afterlife all of the time. I have quit. I cannot see any better alternative than death. Perhaps that is always the third choice in my decision-making process: should I do this, that, or just simply die and put an end to all options? It seems odd, though, because my rational mind has a multitude of reasons to relish my existence. That must be why I forget that I am some percent suicidal all of the time. There is no good reason to depart from here, from the pleasing life I lead. Just last night a struggling musician scooping ice cream was commenting on how joyful I must be being a full-time artist.

What can I say? The best explanation I’ve heard is that I am fractured. I don’t get to enjoy the differing parts of one human’s life. I am denied access. For instance, the part of me that can appreciate making a living as a musician is not hooked up with the part of me that plays the cello full-time. I have extremely brief moments of connection, and therefore satisfaction and joy, but they are unsustainable.

originally published on 7/9/08