you reel me out then you cut the string
"Consciousness is the lens through which a self either sees the road to death, or does not, if the lens has cataracts, and the biggest, most opaque cataract of them all is the fiction of the self as a static uniqueness unassailable by time."
~Chase Twichell from Toys in the Attic quoted in Unholy Ghost: Writers on Depression
I'm not sure if this quote makes sense outside of the chapter it's in. It gave me an epiphany yesterday as I was reading it, though.
As a teenager I began feeling despair when I realized that who I wanted to be was not someone I thought I could be... in fact, I didn't even know who that was but I had an overwhelming sureness that I would not have the energy for the greatness I must attain. Mediocrity felt like death and I didn't even have the motivation to aspire so far as mediocrity. Being a disaster was actually more appealing because that is at least something grand, so I thought. Even if it was grandly awful.
I've had many conversations with God over the years about motivation. Motivation and greatness. I've thought if only I could find out who I really am- who I'm really meant to be and what I'm really meant to do- then I will have peace. Then the dreadful, nagging voices will silence to behold a me with purpose.
But it hasn't happened.
I have always thought of depression as something that happens to me instead of seeing it as a part of who I am. And yet at the offer of medication I step back for fear that I would no longer be me anymore... if the pain has prompted a larger compassion in me or a keener eye for who other people really are... that they really are as truly as I am.
But I'm losing compassion. It's like my Self has been kidnapped and I'm so frantically searching for me that when others cry out in need I feel annoyed by the distraction.
Maybe I'm not listening for my own voice, but for His voice. I can't be sure.
I don't mean to say that I think Self is my most prized possession. If I have indeed been taken away, because lately I often do not recognize myself, then maybe it's for the best.
Maybe I shouldn't think about it so much. Maybe I should stick to the task of seeking God and let Him figure this stuff out and put it all in its proper place.
~Chase Twichell from Toys in the Attic quoted in Unholy Ghost: Writers on Depression
I'm not sure if this quote makes sense outside of the chapter it's in. It gave me an epiphany yesterday as I was reading it, though.
As a teenager I began feeling despair when I realized that who I wanted to be was not someone I thought I could be... in fact, I didn't even know who that was but I had an overwhelming sureness that I would not have the energy for the greatness I must attain. Mediocrity felt like death and I didn't even have the motivation to aspire so far as mediocrity. Being a disaster was actually more appealing because that is at least something grand, so I thought. Even if it was grandly awful.
I've had many conversations with God over the years about motivation. Motivation and greatness. I've thought if only I could find out who I really am- who I'm really meant to be and what I'm really meant to do- then I will have peace. Then the dreadful, nagging voices will silence to behold a me with purpose.
But it hasn't happened.
I have always thought of depression as something that happens to me instead of seeing it as a part of who I am. And yet at the offer of medication I step back for fear that I would no longer be me anymore... if the pain has prompted a larger compassion in me or a keener eye for who other people really are... that they really are as truly as I am.
But I'm losing compassion. It's like my Self has been kidnapped and I'm so frantically searching for me that when others cry out in need I feel annoyed by the distraction.
Maybe I'm not listening for my own voice, but for His voice. I can't be sure.
I don't mean to say that I think Self is my most prized possession. If I have indeed been taken away, because lately I often do not recognize myself, then maybe it's for the best.
Maybe I shouldn't think about it so much. Maybe I should stick to the task of seeking God and let Him figure this stuff out and put it all in its proper place.