The Buzzing Et Cetera

I mentioned in the last post that this would be a two-part observation, and so it is. I hope to cover some interesting observations in this post that have been shared by myself and others, but first a few pleasant highlights. First, thanks, J & R, for having me over last night. Had a lot of fun, certainly much more than I would have had sitting around my apartment all by my lonesome. Second, my uncle John was in surgery as of Monday. He had an aneurysm, something they caught at the last second and had to remove in a huge hurry, lest he perish. It was apparently a five hour open-brain surgical ordeal, but he made it through and is recovering nicely. Astounding, these things that can be accomplished with medical science today.

Now, onto the meat of the post.

As my friends and wife know now, I am being medicated for major depression. That was the official diagnosis when I went to the doctor's office on Tuesday. When I explained my symptoms they immediately knew what we were dealing with and prescribed something for it. Apart from the depression and being somewhat overweight, though, my health is generally good. Blood pressure, cholesterol, lung function, heart function, all within normal parameters. I am free to begin any reasonable workout regimen I choose, and they recommended the South Beach diet for weight loss. I'm examining it.

All that being said, some of us can't help but wonder whether this problem is symptomatic of a larger thing at work in the world. Everyone's got some kind of mental hangup. Nobodies normal, and it's always in some weird way that make them miserable with the way their life has turned out. Our generation suffers it. The one right on our heels fares even worse. Talk to anyone, even people who have really good and solid lives, and they'll tell you all about how messed up they are. Usually at the drop of a hat.

(I'm using broad, sweeping terms like "anyone" and "everyone", of course. That's not accurate, but I have not the time nor the patience to word everything in the post in a politically correct way. Obviously not *everyone* is like this, but a whole hell of a lot of people are.)

I have my own theory on the matter. I think people are depressed simply because life is too easy. Now, before you scream "WTF?!" let me explain what I mean.

Your grocery store is five miles from your house at the most. Frequently, less. For some, like me, it's a *lot* less. I could see mine from my parking lot if there weren't a highway in the way. Anyway, five miles. Your car can get you there in five minutes. You'll spend thirty in there, grabbing carefully-laid out products from easy-to-reach shelves. Engineers have studied it down to the molecule and determined the perfect layout to make your shopping experience easier. You'll be in and out without having to use your brain.

Think about that. The quest for food! Hunting and gathering! Key and necessary to the bedrock of our survival! One of our species' core functions has been reduced to a task that takes no time and requires no thought or effort.

Now think a little higher. Acquiring and maintaining shelter. Again, a key, core task of our species. Again, no effort. Hop on the Internet and head to a website. Specify your needs, pick from the list, go on down and sign the lease. Bingo. For added laziness, head back to the Internet to set up automatic payment of the rent and the bills. There's another one. A core function, reduced to zero effort and thought.

So we have food and shelter taken out of our hands. What need we ponder? Essentially, all we need to worry about are two numbers: Cash coming in, and cash going out. Make sure one stays higher than the other. A lab monkey could do it. The short of it is, I think human beings are in a state of decline, a state of creeping depression and uselessness, a state where obesity runs rampant, where suicide is on the rise, where everyone wants everything but doesn't want to work for it, because life for the average person has been distilled down to a set of very easy numbers. It's *too easy*. The mind can't cope with being this bored. The mind wants for problems to solve, challenges to overcome. Without them it settles into a state of "meh."

That's for adults. Kids, much easier to understand what their problem is. But that's another blog post.

So what is the answer? Well, I'm going to go ahead with my depression treatment. There is absolutely no point in my starting anything worthwhile right now with the way I've been feeling. Once I'm feeling better, though, I think the *real* treatment for this will be to push myself. Challenge myself, or be challenged by others. Inject some imperative into life. Put more on the plate than the problem of, "Is this number bigger than this number?"

Thoughts?

The Buzzing Sound

I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow to finally determine, after a long time waiting, what is wrong with me. It cannot possibly come a moment too soon.

I have to admit I put my wife through a long weekend of hell. I barely remember anything that happened over the last four days, but I remember enough to know I wasn't a very good husband. I slept a lot, and when I was awake I was completely without energy. I sank into my various distractions and missed about 80% of everything she said. She had to beg and plead to get me to at least try to have fun with her. Her passtime of choice is to have me write with her, and when I did I produced nothing of quality. It all culminated into me feeling so much like a lump--and acting like one--that Sunday night, she got so frustrated she nearly threw a shoe at me. I imagine just so that I'd react to something.

The sensation comes and goes, I have my good days and my bad days, but for the last several months now my bad days have far outnumbered the good. On said bad days, I feel like how I imagine a rock must feel. That is to say, like nothing. Like an inanimate object. I don't remember anything anyone says to me, or anything that goes on. I can't concentrate. Zero creativity. Extremely tired. I don't feel happy, I don't feel sad. I feel disconnected from everything. It all feels like it's happening to someone else.

There is a constant... I hesitate to say the words "buzzing sound", because that's not accurate, but it's the best way I can describe it. In my conciousness, not in my ears. It's like someone has stretched out and then interwoven a few balls of cotton into the pathways of my brain. Every thought and feeling I used to have normally now comes slowly or not at all.

The conversation my wife and I had afterward branched out, reached outward to explore the entire generation I live in, as well as the one right on our heels. This blog entry took a lot longer to write than I thought it would, and I promised I'd deliver on the full range of topics this touches on. So I will write this one in two parts. Consider this part 1.