Recreational Depression
I miss the self-indulgence into melancholy that being a teenager and a goth allowed me. Adulthood does not allow this kind of non-sense. Is there a problem? Solve it. Occassionally you may be permitted mourning, but only in severe cases of death, accidents, disease and perhaps (although this also seems to be making its way out of the list slowly) a break-up. But if you have a good job, a great circle of friends, your health, your family members alive and kicking, a lovely boyfriend, financial security and you are approaching 30, you are not to be seen sinking. It's not just unacceptable anymore, it is unfathomable. We are too old to indulge ourselves with pointless tears and recreational depression. Life is too short to mourn it. We ought to celebrate it, as much as we can. And we are older now, more cynical, we know after years of experience that nothing is the end of the world, nothing apart from our own death, about which we cannot mourn, we just have to wait until our time comes and even then it won't be so unpleasant for us. We know that this emptiness inside is as fleeting as the sun on the Amsterdam sky in February, we know that any pain fades with time and we know that anger evaporates faster than water. With all this knowledge we proceed into adult life, smiling, brave, holding our head high and our shoulders back.
But like a birthday celebration, where much alcohol is consumed, is normally followed by a seriously painful hungover, I find it equally fitting to have inherent melancholy adjacent to any joyful pleasure or even deep happiness. I have been happy lately, happier than I have ever found myself being before. For a long time. Chronic bliss… as suspicious as chronic depression. Am I missing something? Am I in denial? And so I find shadows and demons and darkness into which I can withdraw for a while, or I start panicking. Perhaps because I don't trust this bliss. Perhaps I am doing this on purpose to balance out all the good. Whatever the reason, the people around me are as puzzled as their realistic adult age requires of them.