I've been thinking about the death of Michael Kennedy. He was skiing, playing around, lost control of his skis briefly, and went headfirst into a tree. Now he's dead because of one small miscalculation. I see a parallel to the ordinary type of mental illness, the kind of functional stress so many of us live with. You are going along just fine until all of a sudden,without warning, you're unable to keep your balance. Sometimes, this means something serious, hospitalization or dementia or agoraphobia. If you're lucky you just feel crappy and stay home for a couple of days. But the edge of the abyss is nearer without warning. And you know you could slip.
I'm -- oh, not depressed, exactly, but really low. Depression always seems like being detached, uncaring, unmoved by anything, without highs or lows. This is more like teetering on the brink of something thoroughly unpleasant. I've realized I'm scared that this is all there is to life. I've finally gotten what I wanted after suffering hellishly for 8 years and now I just can't make sense of it. The absence of hell isn't sufficient. I want more. I require more. Please, please tell me there's more.
I mean, what am I doing now that's any different from what I was doing in Nashville? I go to work, I work hard, I get a certain thrill out of being good at a difficult job. I come home, I write or read or draw. I take care of my pets, I spend time with my favorite person, I tend to my plants and my chores. Sometimes I go out with friends, or they come over (that part is different). I barely leave the house unless I'm going to work or obliged to attend some function. If I do more than two social things in a week I feel cheated of private time. I sleep too much. I've been up to the city just once in 2 months. I haven't been to the ocean at all.
The quality of my life has improved, there's no doubt about that. I'm 100% happier with my surroundings. I'm working on changing the kind of work I do: I'm getting my own domain name, I've gotten three contracts for web design in negotiation, I've signed up a subcontractor for the tricksy programming part of things. I have a roof over my head, food in the cupboard, money in the bank, and all the basics of life more than met. I am surrounded by my favorite people, my husband and my friends and my still-extant social group. There is so little that is wrong with my life that I feel deeply guilty for being dissatified. And yet there is a terrible loss somewhere. I'm missing a piece of the big picture. I have no purpose in life. I don't know how to make sense of the gifts I've been given.
The abyss is too close for comfort.
