So this is what being down feels like.
Writing something and just to save yourself from having to think much about the title, putting the first line up as the title to the whole piece.
Sitting on your bed with lots of things to do but no desire to do them. What once seemed pretty interesting and a productive way of spending time has lost its spark now. Things that could keep you going for hours on end now ignite a flicker of interest inside you that dies within a moment and you go back to sitting in bed and wondering if you should do anything or just lie down.
Deciding every day to write something and even getting ideas, but failing to put them into words just because you lose interest by the time you switch your computer on. Even if you do switch it on and open Microsoft word and write a line that occurred to you while you were riding down the road, you cannot carry on further because the part of your mind that supplies ideas has run out of stock. Apparently, it works only when it wants to, not when you want it to.
Going through the whole damn day doing the same things over and over again; falling into a pattern. You want to break it but again, you decide against it at the last moment, giving in to your reluctance and finally you think, “Oh, what the hell…just leave things as they are. It’s too much to change everything.”
Just wanting to lie down and keep lying down. You know that it’s wrong but you don’t know why. It just seems wrong, somehow. Maybe the fact that we should be constantly doing something has been hammered into you so much that now, even lying down peacefully makes you feel guilty about yourself and you get up, thinking that you should do something. But what? And then you lose the desire again. And then you lie down again.
Going through everything you have been taught in your growing years and questioning them, testing their logic against your own, now that you’you've grown old enough to create your own logic.
Doing completely pointless things, like scratching the stubble on your chin just for the hell of it; to the point that it begins stinging your chin, but you still won’t stop.
Realizing that meeting friends that you haven’t seen in months, friends to meet whom you once rode your scooter at an uncontrollable speed and hit a bicycle rider in the middle of the street, friends for 10 minutes of whose time you would give up anything; the prospect of meeting those friends doesn't excite you as much as it used to.
Going on doing nothing, while all others around you are indulging themselves in all kinds of creative work that guarantees them a bright future. You see those people and you feel a bit guilty, but you still carry on in the same way trying to convince yourself that you are not doing anything wrong and it’s not the end of the world.
Getting second thoughts about everything all the time.
Having a mental fight with yourself all the time.
Trying to be justifiable in your own eyes all the time.
Explaining your own actions to yourself all the time.
Yes, this is what being down really feels like. And it feels like this all the time.