You'll have to excuse the fact that I seem to be using this blog as therapy at the moment. My brain really just isn't functioning correctly; I mean, I can't get the song Komm, Süsser Tod out of my head, and that's never a good thing. I mean, look at the damn title. I suppose I could attempt to cheer myself up with some ridiculous rubbish I found on youtube, but...here I am, with that song going around my brain. Gah.
This is relevant to my writing, I suppose, in that I haven't been able to write much of anything lately. I just can't settle to anything; when I am this depressed, I find all motivation for anything disappears pretty quick. I just want to stop. But the picture above...well, I saw those birds at a raptor recovery centre in Margaret River, and I was charmed not only by their name -- they're Tawny Frogmouths -- but how ancient they looked. And how adorable, given how close they sat together. I'm not a tactile person, you see; I dislike being touched, and therefore hugging isn't really my scene. But when I am miserable, because I can't ask for a hug, the closest I tend to get? Is having a mental picture of myself curled up in a hopeless ball on the floor, but with the more sympathetic of my characters kneeling with their arms around me thinking please don't leave us. I suppose that's pretty sad and pathetic, but I don't tend to feel I have any worth to anyone else. The only "people" who would miss me are the voices in my head, and frankly it's just because they'd go down with the ship, but...I was wondering who it would be right now. And of course Eliot came to mind.
I write Eliot a lot when I am depressed. It's just the sort of character he is. I wrote a short story several years back where Eliot asks an old friend to kill him, just for the sense of relief it would provide, and...it hurt so much to write. But it was also a release for me. Which is why I am thinking maybe poking at The Juniper Bones might help my brain a little. Although it likely means the next song that gets stuck in my head will be How To Be Dead, which...isn't much better than the aforementioned Come, Sweet Death. Although it does involve far fewer giant naked Reis, I suppose.
What amused me earlier today, mind you, is that one of the characters I was picturing in my crazy it's-all-in-your-head group hug thing? Was Arosek. And I had a phone call at work today from one of my old classmates, and I suddenly realised he was at least one influence on the creation of this character. No one character is any one person I know, but it just...made me think. He was one of the very popular people in my class, and being that I am unattractive, unintelligent, unsocial and generally pretty much not worth anything to anyone, I always assumed he had no idea who I was. But a couple days before graduation, I returned to Dunedin from Christchurch and around lunchtime was wandering between the Central Library and my flat and heard someone call my name. I turned, bemused, and found this classmate. We talked for a bit, and it became quickly apparent that he knew very well who I was. Even today, before he actually got to the point -- which was explaining the answer he'd found to a question I'd bothered another company rep with earlier in the week -- we just chatted, and...I'm nothing special to this guy. Don't ever think that. But he's just so nice. He remembers things about people, and it's because he likes to. And that's what Arosek is, too. He's one of those people who is intelligent, charismatic, charming, good-looking...you want to hate them, but you can't.
Of course, this has nothing to do with my depression and my subsequent inability to write anything new, but go figure. I suppose I might as well end the entry with another picture from the raptor sanctuary, seeing as we were all neither Raptured nor Raptored last week. Excuse the fact that I am ugly as sin, and just focus on the fact that it's awesome to have a bird of prey on your hand. I claimed it was research for the times I want to write about falconry, but honestly...I wanted to do it just because it's AWESOME. Ha.
"... being that I am unattractive, unintelligent, unsocial and generally pretty much not worth anything to anyone"
ReplyDeleteYou know this is the depression talking and is absolutely untrue, right? I can understand--while it's nothing the same as depression, I do have a bit of a tendency towards obsession/anxiety. Like, to a very irrational level. So recently, whenever I found myself obsessing over my latest fears (in sum: my application for an apartment was turned down, it ruined my life, what was wrong with me? My credit? My rental history? Dear God, I'm calling every number on craigslist till I find a new place--and then searching until two in the morning and refreshing the page because where will I live??; also checking my email with the new application at every moment, including on my phone when I have no access to computer, because Christ I can't stop worrying and who do I have to call and I'm making a gazillion backup plans!), I would cut myself off mid-thought with: "stop. stop." And think of something else.
It's hard for me to convey how obsessive I became over the past weeks, but it actively interfered with my work, and definitely with my writing. I couldn't concentrate on anything but my fears. So, I'm trying to prevent myself from turning into someone as compulsive and anxious as my father, and I think catching myself--being aware of the tendency and actively stopping it--has helped.
Claire love, you're very beautiful. You look lovely, and I know for a fact (unless the writing you've been sending me all these years has been someone else's work) that you're very intelligent, too, and being antisocial just means you're an introvert, which most of us writer types are anyways. You should tell yourself that whenever you start thinking down on yourself.
Also, I think it's normal to use writing as therapy. I've sometimes had chats with my characters when I'm feeling unsure about something. I've even written these conversations down, so don't fear being the only dork. ;-) We all kind of are, and kind of have to be, to do what we do.
I am, however, elated that you might use your moods as fuel to write more about Eliot!
As for raptors--totally cool! I love the peregrine. Fastest animal on the planet in a stoop--they are completely amazing animals.