Spring Can Really Hang You Up the Most

I don't have terribly much to blog about at the moment. I was in a bit of a funk last week; spring, for some reason, is a difficult season for me. I'm perking up, but the edges are still a little dull. I started reading William Styron's Darkness Visible, a memoir of his battle with a depressive breakdown in the mid-1980s. This book was recommended to me quite some time ago by a great therapist, Dr. P., but I'd never come across a copy of it until wandering into the Wee Book Inn yesterday. There it was, right at the front of the store. I usually avoid reading accounts of depression, partly out of barely realized fear that doing so would trigger depression, and partly because I'm so dismally familiar with it that I don't want to read about it. Turns out I'm not alone in this. Styron wrote, "It came as an astonishment to me that I was close to a total ignoramus about depression...I had always subconsciously rejected or ignored the proper knowledge; it cut too close to the psychic bone, and I shoved it aside as an unwelcome addition to my store of knowledge." He put it better than I ever did, of course. I simply said,"Don't wanna."

When I'm not depressed I'm actually a very happy person who loves and appreciates life. Strange. You'd think depressives would just generally hate everything, all the time.

Anyway, while Richard is perched on the edge of the couch watching the Sharks win tonight, I'll be reading The Jesus Papers and The Lost Gospel of Judas.