Grace and Illness

Posted on March 19, 2009 in Depression Journals & Notebooks Writing/Darkness

Energetic gloom — the kind you get when you try to pummel your low temperament — poses a threat to life when it rises to anger. It’s tough to be graceful when you charge against lethargy with your head dropped like an angry bull. Plus you can end up with a broken neck. There’s no dancing except moshing — is it strange that I find heavy metal music depressing in the sense that it batters my heart and smashes my cranium with every twang of the guitars? Those voices — made to sound as if they came out of the throats of reanimated corpses – don’t frighten or enervate me: they bounce off me with all the pleasure of that water gets ricocheting off a hot frying pan. Depression smoulders. Spirit tries to get you moving, but for all the beating of the drums you don’t move again until the blessed morning when the music is silent and the spot where your spinal column meets your skull doesn’t sag from the weight of your scarred brain. How can you be graceful under such conditions? The body lacks a head, the head is at odds with the body ((This is one of those things literally at odds with itself that makes perfect sense when you are in the mood.)) . There’s an argument going on. The two sides are too busy thudding around that you can’t congeal into anything more detailed than a hot fog.

This is an exercise from [amazonify]1587613190::text::::Writing Through the Darkness: Easing Your Depression with Paper and Pen[/amazonify]