I wrote this as an email to a friend and was unsure about posting it here.
A couple of weeks ago, a friend asked me how I extricate myself out of black moods/blue funks. Later, an anonymous commenter on this post pointed out that one legacy of the Covid-19 experience will be the enormous strain on mental health. As I typed the email, word came out that we'd be in lock-down till May 3rd.
I drafted and redrafted this piece, struggling to craft something of Value. It took me a while to understand (I am not a smart man) that articulating any solution is a fool's errand. The base ingredient of a blue funk is ripe despair but everything else in the pot comes from what is available in your mind's larder. Something that sets off an episode for me may only elicit a slight raise of an eyebrow from you and vice versa. So, if the expectation isn't that of a Wiki-How, you won't be disappointed. Besides, there's no point. Whether you think rationally or irrationally most of the time, making persuasive arguments about anything increasingly seems a colossal waste of time and breath. We get 'there' if and when we get there. While you'd find a dime a dozen links suggesting that listening to songs, reading a book, mindless binge-watching, hitting the peace pipe, having a good cry or throwing yourself into a completely random activity... is any of these a sure-fire answer? The truth is, who knows what really works? I don't suggest Thoreau was right about quiet desperation, but again, do I know for sure? No.
Despair can be processed as a quagmire. You try your hardest to wade through it, find patches of solid ground, fall ever so often, pick yourself up or wallow in the mud, however long you want. Don't kid yourself and don't put any pressure on yourself to be invincible. If you are able to live a philosophy that helps you cope... the universe is indifferent, life is meaningless, yada, yada, yada... or choose a stoic or hedonistic approach, it's on you. As I suggested to the anonymous commenter on their own, well-put idea, psychological crossfit could and would work, yet like physical crossfit or even that morning jog, figuring out the discipline is the hardest nut to crack. And, discipline or habit itself comes with pressure.
If there is something you do as a routine and suddenly don't want to because it seems pointless, at that time, that place, in those circumstances, it may just be. I can't promise that you'll immediately want to get back to it. You may, some time later. You may never. So what?
Blue funks come and go. Some days, we can talk ourselves out of them. On others, we hear bird song, see sparrows or find solace in gardening. A good cup of tea or coffee, a perfect dosa or samosa, reaching for a 3 Investigators book or an Asterix... they've all helped me. There are times we only manage to push it into the back of the mental cupboard where it bides its time, gathering up other discards, before launching another salvo. Even resolving it can sometimes feel like being on a hike up a particularly unforgiving hill. You've passed the point of bitter self-recrimination for attempting this sort of foolishness. You know that the last, few hard steps will get you up and over. And, then... you arrive at the top so exhausted that lying down and staring at the sky seems the most appealing idea in the world.
I've accepted that a blue funk isn't a problem with one solution. Maybe not even a permanent one. It's okay.
One thing that makes no sense to me is watching shows where actors try to portray anxiety, depression or despair. Maybe it's my fault but it's hard to get away from the fact that they're acting. It's pretence. That, no matter how close to the bone some scene cuts, identifying with the moment doesn't work for me. It's too neat. Life doesn't come with clean edits, a background score or on-point dialogue. Life is a lot more mundane in these moments and I am unable to find a modicum of comfort in an episode cooked up by writers, no matter how talented. It is a hypocritical view to hold because there are a ton of books and passages that do move me. Perhaps it's the medium.
If I had to pare this all down, maybe the only thing on offer is - whatever you do to want to snap out of it (if you want to snap out of it), think of it as staring down an enemy. Whatever fuels you and gives you the strength to not blink first, use it. No one has a fucking clue anyway.
Song for the moment: Music from Studio Ghibli
A couple of weeks ago, a friend asked me how I extricate myself out of black moods/blue funks. Later, an anonymous commenter on this post pointed out that one legacy of the Covid-19 experience will be the enormous strain on mental health. As I typed the email, word came out that we'd be in lock-down till May 3rd.
I drafted and redrafted this piece, struggling to craft something of Value. It took me a while to understand (I am not a smart man) that articulating any solution is a fool's errand. The base ingredient of a blue funk is ripe despair but everything else in the pot comes from what is available in your mind's larder. Something that sets off an episode for me may only elicit a slight raise of an eyebrow from you and vice versa. So, if the expectation isn't that of a Wiki-How, you won't be disappointed. Besides, there's no point. Whether you think rationally or irrationally most of the time, making persuasive arguments about anything increasingly seems a colossal waste of time and breath. We get 'there' if and when we get there. While you'd find a dime a dozen links suggesting that listening to songs, reading a book, mindless binge-watching, hitting the peace pipe, having a good cry or throwing yourself into a completely random activity... is any of these a sure-fire answer? The truth is, who knows what really works? I don't suggest Thoreau was right about quiet desperation, but again, do I know for sure? No.
Despair can be processed as a quagmire. You try your hardest to wade through it, find patches of solid ground, fall ever so often, pick yourself up or wallow in the mud, however long you want. Don't kid yourself and don't put any pressure on yourself to be invincible. If you are able to live a philosophy that helps you cope... the universe is indifferent, life is meaningless, yada, yada, yada... or choose a stoic or hedonistic approach, it's on you. As I suggested to the anonymous commenter on their own, well-put idea, psychological crossfit could and would work, yet like physical crossfit or even that morning jog, figuring out the discipline is the hardest nut to crack. And, discipline or habit itself comes with pressure.
If there is something you do as a routine and suddenly don't want to because it seems pointless, at that time, that place, in those circumstances, it may just be. I can't promise that you'll immediately want to get back to it. You may, some time later. You may never. So what?
Blue funks come and go. Some days, we can talk ourselves out of them. On others, we hear bird song, see sparrows or find solace in gardening. A good cup of tea or coffee, a perfect dosa or samosa, reaching for a 3 Investigators book or an Asterix... they've all helped me. There are times we only manage to push it into the back of the mental cupboard where it bides its time, gathering up other discards, before launching another salvo. Even resolving it can sometimes feel like being on a hike up a particularly unforgiving hill. You've passed the point of bitter self-recrimination for attempting this sort of foolishness. You know that the last, few hard steps will get you up and over. And, then... you arrive at the top so exhausted that lying down and staring at the sky seems the most appealing idea in the world.
I've accepted that a blue funk isn't a problem with one solution. Maybe not even a permanent one. It's okay.
One thing that makes no sense to me is watching shows where actors try to portray anxiety, depression or despair. Maybe it's my fault but it's hard to get away from the fact that they're acting. It's pretence. That, no matter how close to the bone some scene cuts, identifying with the moment doesn't work for me. It's too neat. Life doesn't come with clean edits, a background score or on-point dialogue. Life is a lot more mundane in these moments and I am unable to find a modicum of comfort in an episode cooked up by writers, no matter how talented. It is a hypocritical view to hold because there are a ton of books and passages that do move me. Perhaps it's the medium.
If I had to pare this all down, maybe the only thing on offer is - whatever you do to want to snap out of it (if you want to snap out of it), think of it as staring down an enemy. Whatever fuels you and gives you the strength to not blink first, use it. No one has a fucking clue anyway.
Song for the moment: Music from Studio Ghibli
Comments
And our fundamental incapability to relate to other human beings on that infra-level is a huge part of the challenge in finding any real, meaningful help outside of your own mind.
One realization I try and maintain front-and-center at all times as a sort of a baseline that DOES actually transcend the relativism, is that at the end of the day, we are all one big pile of chemicals. That part IS universally true. How these chemicals interact and react with each other on any given day basically determines what thoughts you think and what feelings you feel, and what works and doesn’t on a given day/time. Even a good grasp of that meta understanding goes a long way in being able to deal or cope with it. I like to think of it as a Neurobiologist’s take on Buddhism! It basically aims to get you to the same place of peace and contentment, but from inside-out rather than outside-in. Personally, I find that to be a slightly less arduous path than the conventional obstacle course to enlightenment, even if what you get at the end of it is a watered down version of the real thing.