Coming back from depression. Again.
It's always a question of "How" for me - some people may well have a facility of pluck or discipline or grit that allows them to throw a stern, guiding hand over their individual selves and steer this way or that, independent of their emotions - and despite having tried feebly over the years to nurture such a facility in my Self - I lack such a power. I only encounter something like it in the depths of depression, something that says, "No, all the rhymes and platitudes of others fail; I have the choice, to try to live or to take myself away." And thereafter I only arise from those depths by accepting my weaknesses and nursing myself with positives - I live, I breathe, I am not among the worst off, I grow old but am still able to get by, I enjoy little but can still enjoy nonetheless. So the first is somewhat on the order of the Existential, but the second is decidedly Epicurean! And then, in my silly & superficial profession, I style myself Stoic: taking as a base that there is ultimately one universe, that some to-us-more-or-less-magical basis informs it, that causation exists and eliminates mere chaos, that the order of things cares not a fig for human lives or frailties, and so on.
Reason, if at the base of things, is something we discover and apply, as best we can. But being human, it is not the Reason of the Cosmos that I cultivate, but that of a human being -- social, individual, and imperfect like all palpable things.
Tuesday, October 24, 2017
Thick, the Clouds
dread, life, paralysis autism spectrum, coping, daemon, Epicureanism, Existentialism, fatigue, lazy, living, mental health, old age, Stoicism
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