If I don't get this out, it will eat me up.
Maybe typing this out will be therapeutic.
So, in case you are in the majority and are uninformed as to this topic,
allow me to tell you what having clinical depression is like.
Hell.
I think the easiest explanation will be through metaphor.
Take your worst life experience and repeat it every single day.
Not literally or physically, of course.
Repeat it in your thoughts as if it were videotaped and played back daily.
Now, take every lesser, but still unfortunate experience and add that to the tape.
Make sure you also splice in some frames for every failure,
every hurtful word, every lost love and lost friend,
every insecurity, every instance of self-doubt, every time you've cried.
Play that tape, on incessant loop, twenty four hours a day.
Now, (and here is the fun part!) try and act as if the tape is not playing.
It is in the room and you can certainly hear it, but turn a blind eye,
immunize yourself to the tape.
Condition yourself to ignore the tape, even to deny its existence.
You're doing a pretty good job with this. "What tape?" you think.
But then, there is the slightest noise from across the room,
and startled, your eyes snap to the direction it came from.
Unfortunately, it came from the same vicinity of the room
as the television looping this torture is located in.
And there it is: you notice it again... that damned tape.
It doesn't take much, you see... just the slightest, even often unrelated occurence.
And suddenly, your eyes focus on the video,
and you have to start from scratch the process of tearing yourself away and forgetting its existence.
Although, each time, it becomes just a bit harder,
and all you wish for so deeply in your heart,
is for people to stop doing things that create a disturbance on that side of the room.
There are ways I try to habituate and eliminate the tape's constant background noise.
Firstly, I make jokes about the events on the tape,
as if I were viewing a comedy in which I just so happen to be the main character.
I tell the stories loudly and humorously and make all around me just laughlaughlaugh.
I always hope that my consequent laughter can eventually become veritable,
but it never really does.
While I am laughing with you on the outside, inside, I am cursing that damned video,
and hoping that your laughter might drone it out for a few moments.
Another method of coping is to reach out to others and show them the tape.
It's strange, but often I can't bring myself to show the tape to those I am closest to.
I don't want them to see its contents.
Frequently, I show the tape to those I don't know terribly well,
and I can't really be sure of why.
Perhaps I hope for a fresh film criticism that can change my view of the tape.
Perhaps it's just easier to be vulnerable with those whose opinions of me I am not as concerned with.
However, people are easily frightened by what they see on the tape,
and they are equally frightened with your preoccupation with it,
and they don't usually come around for a second viewing.
Another prominent option is to take these pills that aid in your ignorance of the tape.
It is excellent at first. The tape fades into obscurity and you continue onwards.
However, not long after you begin this regimine, you start habituating other things...
...in fact, you start habituating EVERYthing.
Not only are you immune to the tape, but you are immune to the room, the house, and the world outside.
You are immune to desire. You are immune to happiness. You are immune to feeling anything at all.
What a marvelous cure!
So what is one really to do but live with this parasitic cassette?
Individuals add to the footage CONSTANTLY.
As the director of the film, you begin to become oversensitive to the world around you,
and what others might not notice as being worthy of filmed or see as a passing thing,
you see as pure cinematic gold.
Into the loop it goes!
It is not in entirity the fault of the actors, for they are unknowing most times.
They don't realize that what they saw as an outtake, a minor blooper, is bound for the big screen.
And upon seeing its inclusion, they don't understand your reasoning,
and they question your credibility as a director.
So what exactly DOES one plagued by this tape need?
I have long searched for the answer to that question.
I believe I have found it, but I question the chances of ever achieving the solution.
What is really needed is for people to come over,
sit down on the couch with you, wrap their arms around you,
and watch the tape with you, holding you all the while.
After it plays through, don't get up from the couch.
Remain there and have a discussion about the tape.
Point out the hidden aspects of positivity in the footage.
Then, remove the tape from the VCR and put in a comedy.
If ever one arrives back at their friend's house and finds them sitting there,
watching that wretched tape ever again,
don't judge them for it, don't criticize, don't turn on them, and don't walk away.
Just sit down and do the same thing again that you did last time.
You'll find, with time, that you catch your friend watching the tape less and less,
and being far more proficient at ignoring its presence.
I wish I could smash the tape, but that's impossible.
I wish I could take a sledgehammer to the television set it is playing on,
but I can't do that either.
All I can do is live as best and happily as possible,
and hope that someone is willing to come over from time to time and watch it with me.
I can has new glasses.
