My Depression

I’m depressed. Very depressed. I’m pretty much always depressed. That’s just my life, that’s how it is. But right now I’m in a more intense than usual depression. I suspected recently that it would happen, as I have very little on my schedule for the next few months. But it hit really quickly. In fact I think it even started before I finished my last gig.

Usually this sort of more intense depressive episode takes the form of my sitting around and feeling... well, depressed. But also angry, and resentful, and worthless, and various other negative feelings. I find myself alone, without any significant connections to other people. And when I try to reach out, to connect, I am rebuffed. Or, maybe worse, ignored. And the occasional “I hope you feel better soon” type of comments on Facebook, or whatever, while I’m sure are well-intentioned, do not help. In fact, they only underscore the basic problem of a lack of real connection. So then I’m either angry or resentful at other people for their not wanting to reciprocate actual friendship. Or I side with them and agree that they shouldn’t want to spend time with me. Because, really, what do I have to offer anyone? I’m miserable, bitter, full of complaints, and basically boring. Who would want to be around that? 

Then I think about the past, and how there have been times when I didn’t feel this way. I used to have friends. I used to have a girlfriend. We lived together for a few years. I used to enjoy at least some of my work. And I used to get a lot of pleasure from writing. I used to not be dangerously broke. (I have way too much free time. These serious depressive episodes don’t happen when I’m busy.) I think about all that stuff. But I never can figure out exactly what went wrong. Well, sometimes I’ll focus on something to blame. But as much as I’d like to be able to blame one person or one event, I know it can’t have been one life event that caused it to all go wrong. It’s a lot of things that are probably connected.

Anyway, I sit around and feel bad and hate life. And basically hate myself. A few years ago it got so bad that I started worrying for myself. Not that I was going to do something harmful to myself, but that I might become negligent and just not care enough to be careful. I went on walks next to busy streets without my glasses and with no ID or anything. Once, while crossing a bridge, I looked down at the cars going underneath, and wondered what would happen if I fell. And I thought about death a bit. Not about suicide – I don’t think I was actually suicidal. It was a little more philosophical. But I was definitely in a bad place. And I scared myself. The thing is, after I realized how bad it was, and feeling scared, I think I started acting a little different, a little healthier. But I can’t remember what I started doing. Eventually, I had a gig – a show I started rehearsing.

Now my depression is taking a different form. I just want to sleep. To nap in the afternoons, mainly. I’m not doing much of anything these days. That’s the biggest danger for me – nothing going on in my life, nothing to distract me, nothing to take up very much of my time. And unfortunately, for the past 5 years or so, I’ve had a lot of weeks and months even, with little or nothing on my calendar. Combined, of course, with my usual lack of people in my life. 

These days, in the mornings I can find a few things to do: wash dishes from the previous night; watch youtube clips from the previous night's Late Show, or other youtube channels I subscribe to; maybe read a little bit. But by early afternoon, I’m just sitting around looking for something on netflix that won't bore me to death or make me more depressed because it’s about love, or friendship, or close family relationships, or people coming together to work toward a goal and bonding through their common struggles. And it’s not easy to find something that doesn’t fit one of those categories. So I end up napping. Not every day. So that’s good. Not taking a nap feels like I’ve won a battle. Not the war, just that day’s battle. When I say I nap, I don’t mean a 15 or 20 minute “power nap.” I actually mean sleeping, restlessly, off and on for 5 hours or so. It’s easy to do that. It’s not satisfying, but it’s easy. And motivating myself to do anything else takes so much effort. I can’t even really describe how difficult it is. I’ve never been very good at inventing busy work to distract myself. I have unfinished plays and musicals that I could be working on. But, again, the amount of energy that would take seems insurmountable. I think I’d like to do a photoshoot. It’s been about 2 months since the last one I did. But I have no one who’s interested (or interested enough to actually do it). And I might feel the same reluctance to put forth the energy.

On top of that, my body hurts. I’m out of shape. I know that exercise would be good for me, just in a general sense, but also specifically it would help with depression. But I just can’t. Honestly, sometimes I get winded going up the stairs in my apartment. That sounds like an exaggeration, a joke, but it really isn’t. So if I do get up the energy to actually do something, I feel so tired afterwards. And sometimes sore as well. Oh, and speaking of “getting up the energy...” Yeah, my sex drive seems diminished. Maybe not the desire to have sex, but the ability to perform. Not that I’m having sex. I haven’t had sex with another person in a very long time. So long a time that I sometimes doubt that I would be able to have satisfying sexual relations with someone. I mean, I might be “satisfied,” but the other person probably wouldn’t. Or, being so out of shape, I’d probably just end up hurting myself. How sad is that? Really, that’s pathetic. But I don’t realistically need to worry about being a bad sexual partner. I don’t have anyone who wants to just hang out and be friends, much less have sex with me. Just another thing to be depressed about. I haven’t even had that much sex in my life. Most of my life I have been single and not sleeping with anyone. And I can easily imagine never having sex with anyone ever again. Also sad.

So I sort of sleep a lot these days. It’s not great sleep. Usually there’s a lot of waking up, trying to get comfortable, sometimes just wondering how long it’ll be before I go back to sleep. You know, that kind of awful sleep. And unlike my typical more intense depressions, I don’t seem to be feeling things very deeply. Sometimes the normal depression (a.k.a. feeling shitty about myself and everything in life) comes for a visit. But it doesn’t really linger for hours at a time, the way I’m used to. A lot of the time I just sit here, or lay here, not feeling much of anything. Well, sometimes feeling very little. Other times feeling sort of helpless, and pointless, and powerless to do much about it.

It’s just...depressing.

a rhino died, and here's what I'm sayin'

While driving home from a rehearsal tonight, I heard on the radio a conversation about extinction. Specifically, about the recent death oath of the last male northern white rhino, but also about the wave of species extinctions happening in the world today.

I heard them talk about human impact, about loss of habit, and climate change, and poachers, and a little about economic pressures. But the host and guest of whatever this program was did not once mention human overpopulation. You know, the fact that there are outrageously high numbers of humans on this planet. There are WAY too many of us. As of the end of last year, we are estimated at 7.6 BILLION humans. I never hear anyone talk about this anymore. When I was a kid, and there were only about 4 billion of us, you heard people talk about it. It was a growing concern. A problem. Well, apparently no longer.

Here’s my real point. We humans do some horrible things to each other, to other species (both animals and plants), and to the planet in general. It would be great if we could stop doing bad things. But... WE’RE PROBABLY NOT GOING TO STOP DOING BAD THINGS TO THE PLANET. But the one thing that would make climate change and species extinction and all the other shit less of a problem is to have A LOT few humans here on the planet.

Now, I’m not comfortable saying that we should just kill off a bunch of people. But I am comfortable saying this:
Maybe we should stop treating every human birth like it’s a magical miracle from heaven. And maybe we should stop treating every human death as if it’s such a horrific tragedy that can be accepted. Maybe, just maybe, we don’t need to fight and struggle to keep every human alive and reproducing. Oh yeah! And maybe we don’t need that antibacterial hand sanitizer a dozen times a day.

It’s as if we’ve decided that every natural check on population just doesn’t pertain to us. We’re somehow special. Yep, so special that we’re fucking over tons of other species just to prove the point. And the thing is, if we keep going, we’re going to prove the opposite. That we humans can’t make as many of ourselves as we want to.

Anyway... There are too many people already. We need to slow down on the baby-making. A lot fewer humans could chop down some trees, and kill some animals, and burn some fossil fuels, and even use that hairspray with chlorofluorocarbons. All that wouldn’t be great for the environment, but the earth could probably handle it. But 7½ billion humans doing that is insane. And we don’t seem to give a fuck anymore. Just like America has pretty much accepted that we’re okay with mass shootings and other such violence, we’ve “civilized” humans have pretty much accepted that we’re going to make this planet unlivable for ourselves and many other species.

Well, get ready, cockroaches. Your chance is coming. 

Birthday wish list

My birthday is coming up soon. (Update: Actually, it’s today) If you’re thinking you should go buy me something, stop, don’t. Also, if you’re thinking, “I’ll have to go write something on his facebook page,” also, stop, don’t. 
Oh! And you know how sometimes people will say, “don’t do this thing,” but you think what they actually mean is to do it...stop, don’t. Instead, read this, and then do something on the list.

Most people just don’t know me well enough to have a realistic idea of something I need or would want to have. And, unlike many of you who feel #blessed that so many people thought of you on your birthday (when it was really just the facebook telling them it was your birthday), I find facebook birthday wishes to be an annoying reminder of my lack of meaningful relationships.

So, if you like me (or want me to like you) and want to do something that I would actually appreciate for my birthday, here’s a list. (And if I think of more stuff, I’ll add it.) You don't have to do this ON my birthday. My schedule happens to be extremely open the next few weeks. And, in general, I have too much free time all year ‘round. 

- If you’re 18 or older, model for me. Preferably nude, though I do clothed shoots as well.

- Ask me if there might be a role that’s right for you in my upcoming Fringe Festival show. Or volunteer as a stage manager or other off-stage work.

- Read a script of mine, and give me some actual feedback. Or organize a table reading and feedback session with enough people to cover all the roles.

- Find a theatre interested in producing a show that few people have ever seen (or, in some cases, no one has seen). Or hire me to write something new.

- If you’re a classical musician, perform something I’ve written. I’ve got tons of chamber music and art songs, many of which have never been heard in public. You could premiere something. Or commission a new work. This also applies to choreographers – I’ve written music for dance, too.

- Hire me for a gig, especially one that plays well, and especially working with competent people.

- Come hang out with me and have an in-person conversation that is not necessarily related to the show we’re rehearsing. Or come have a drink. This is probably the easiest thing on this list. It only requires time and effort.

- Get me a massage. Or give me a massage. Or even get a massage from me - I used to do that a bit. It was nice, actually having contact with another human.

- This one is pretty unlikely. (Then again, maybe they all are.) Find me a girlfriend. This would require finding out what I like and dislike in people. Also the things I find attractive in a woman (which are many of the same traits, plus a nice butt.) 

- Of course, if you want to throw a big party for me that takes a lot of effort, and invite people I know that you don’t necessarily know but had to find on facebook and then find out if I’m actually friends with them...I guess that would be okay. 

I suppose many of these things on this list are just a way of encouraging people to be my friend in real life and not just on the facebook. I can appreciate that it might be hard to be my friend. Perhaps you think of me as being overly critical and/or demanding. Then again, if you only know me as a music director, I would argue that is part of my job.

You could even engage me in conversation about the things can make you uncomfortable with me. Oo! If you're one of those people who feel uncomfortable with my photography, you could start a discussion with me about that. I was just saying the other day that people commenting TO ME about my photography is actually somewhat uncommon, if not rare.

political ramblings from last fall

I was cleaning out files on my computer, and I found this. It is a blog I started (and never finished) shortly after the presidential election (November 2016). I tried to flesh it out a bit, but it’s just several snippets on the topic of politics. So...enjoy? 

____________________________

I fear that we who think of ourselves as liberal, progressive, even moderate will close our eyes to the real takeaway from this election. After our shock and anger and sadness fade, after we assuage our pain with platitudes of love and family and community, we’ll simply move on without examining this whole election. All these calls for love and respect – I worry they will in reality equal doing nothing. They are simply another version of the “thoughts and prayers” that conservative offer whenever some mass shooting occurs: ultimately meaningless.

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

We ignore things. We worry and complain about them when they come up – the problem of the Electoral College, for example – and then we forget about it, until 4 or 8 or 12 years later when it comes up again. We know it’s a problem, a fixable problem, but we don’t fix. We don’t even make and attempt to fix. When Hillary Clinton’s supporters had to keep trying to convince people that even though they may not like her, they should still vote for her, is that not a big red flag? When the Democratic party possibly fudges the primary votes in favor of a candidate, is that not a big red flag? Apparently not, because mostly we ignore all that, too. Instead, we prefer to blame anybody who supported or, god forbid, actually voted for a third-party candidate.

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

Donald Trump was right, in a sense, when he said the electoral system is rigged – just in a more complex way than he meant. Our government, on most levels, is monopolized by an entrenched two-party system. An us-versus-them/all-or-nothing/winning-at-the-expense-of-right-and-reason system. And these parties have no obligation to be “fair” because they make their own rules. But the big thing that keeps them in power is they have the infrastructure to get their candidates on the ballot, the money to advertise, and they’ve convinced the population that other parties aren’t serious options. The inclusion of any third-party candidates in mainstream political discussion, much less in an actual debate, is rare. All of our “institutions” in this country tell the same story about candidates outside of the Democrat and Republican parties: that they’re unrealistic, no chance of winning, at best (or worst) steals votes from the serious legit candidates.

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

I suspect that many voters weren’t paying attention to every speech given by the candidates, nor to all the specifics of any party’s platform. A lot of people just voted AGAINST Hillary Clinton, because of what she represents to them, which is:

- an entrenched political elite out of touch with the average person

- a political class who speaks in “talking points” and bases decisions on focus groups

- a politician who tells you what you want instead of asking you

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

Significant government reform – real changes in what gets done and what doesn’t – may be simply be impossible without first getting the influence of money out of government. Campaign finance reform – that’s a good starting place. Publicly-funded election campaigns mean that candidates aren’t beholden to their major donors whenever those donors’ pet issues come up. And, I suspect, directly related to campaign finance is the way lobbyists work. Companies and organizations with money to throw around in support of their agendas hire people to wine and dine and chat up our representatives, to the point that they’re no longer OUR representatives. I think our justice system is in on it, too, when they rule that corporations are “people” and that money is “speech.” I want to say it’s insane, but it’s much worse than that – it’s devious; it’s evil; it’s repugnant. 

that school I worked at that one time

This morning I saw a facebook friend’s post about a former facebook friend getting a “prestigious” job at a private Christian college. I refrained from commenting on the post. The post was all about “congratulations to my friend, blah, blah,” and the comment that came to my mind was, “I worked there. Could not stand it. So fake. Left after one semester.” 

I didn’t post that comment. But it’s on my mind. (Apparently, I have too much free time to just have a thought then let it go.) So I’m writing about it here. 

I worked there. Could not stand it. So fake. Left after one semester. I told them half-way through the semester that I wouldn’t be staying. I worked as an accompanist in the music and theatre programs. I took the job because I had nothing lined up after a New Hampshire summer stock season which left me with not enough money to go back to NYC. Someone I knew at college posted on the facebook that the school where he was now teaching voice needed an accompanist. So I wrote him, and the school hired me on his recommendation. 

All I knew was that it was a private college – actually, it had recently become a university – that had some connection to a church. I had in the past worked at a private college that had some relationship with the Methodist Church. At that “Methodist” school, there were probably a lot higher percentage of religious students than you’d find at a state school. But it wasn’t an extremely religious atmosphere. So, I thought I had an idea of what I was getting into at this other school. 

This other school – I’ll go ahead and name it: the University of Mobile. It’s not actually in Mobile, but no one’s going to attend the “University of Saraland.” 

The Univeristy of Mobile is not a seminary, nor a bible college. When I was there, they described it to me as “a liberal arts school with a Christian perspective.” Now (I saw this on the link my facebook friend posted this morning), the school describes itself as “a Christ-centered liberal arts and sciences institution.” They are affiliated with the Baptist Church. I don’t think you have to be a Baptist to go there or work there. I wasn’t. I’m not (and have never been) a Christian. Now, if I had been teaching there and not just an accompanist, I would have had to make a profession of faith, because they would have considered me responsible for the students’ moral upbringing. 

The atmosphere there was not what I expected, not like the other school where I had worked. It was very religious and kind of disturbing. The students also had to make a profession of faith. This was a school where they would (maybe still do?) kick you out if you’re discovered to be engaging in homosexual activity. That is, unless they think you’re a significant addition to the program – you’re a really great singer or whatever – that they want to keep you there, so instead of kicking you out, they a big prayer session over you. 

It was so very fake. A lot of public praying – prayers generously peppered with the right church-y catch phrases, to let everybody who hears you know that you’re the right kind of person (or maybe the right kind of Christian?). It was like they were so “Christ-focused” that they couldn’t see how mediocre they were making their performances. When I say “Christ-focused” what I really mean is that they were busy trying to make everything they did nice and pretty and not possibly offensive or challenging to anyone because Conservative-American-Jesus wouldn’t want that. But that is not what art is about. It’s not what a higher education is about. 

And it wasn’t just about the music. There was a woman (an administrative assistant) who’s job it was at one big multiple group concert to check that all the young women’s dresses looked right – the right length or style of whatever. I don’t think any of the female students in that performance wore anything other than a dress. (Because that wouldn’t look right.) The appearance of righteousness and right-ness was obviously more important than the substance of things. I was told twice by the head of the department that I shouldn’t (or couldn’t – he had a slippery way of getting people to agree to things without sounding like he was outright telling you what to do. It took me a couple of conversations with him to realize it. I think of him as a snake-oil salesman.) talk about certain things – like the fact that I wasn’t a Christian – because “we don’t want to confuse the students.” 

Here’s the thing, though... At that level of education – a “liberal arts” university – maybe you DO want to confuse the students a little. You want to present complex ideas and encourage them to think and perhaps learn to deal with conflicting information, information that may not fit conveniently into your previous understanding. In my resignation letter to the department head, I said something that I hoped he would understand: as you mature, a time comes to “put away childish things.” (That’s from the Bible.) He liked to say that they were “training the next generation of lay leaders in the church.” I told him that if he wanted the church to do something other than shrivel away, those future leaders needed to learn how to deal with complex and uncomfortable realities. Things like the fact that I might be good at my job and have something worthwhile to contribute without sharing their belief system. 

This was 8 years ago. It hadn’t occurred to me then that “the church’s” future could be in more prejudice and fear and ignorance. I don’t know if that’s what happening in “the church” today. But that’s what seems to be happening with conservative America today. I have no current involvement with churches or church-affiliated groups. I’ve had it. I grew up going to church. We had to – my parents were the ministers. I’ve seen too much hypocrisy and bullshit. I’ve met too many people who say “I know what I believe,” yet know little or nothing about their church’s history or doctrine. People who are religious, but can’t hold a real conversation about religion because they’re just plain ignorant about it. 

I admit my intolerance of religion. Whenever I see people’s facebook posts of Bible verses or about how great God is and how He provides, or when I see people praying off to the side – or right there in front – before a performance or something, instead of going into your room and locking the door to pray privately (that’s in the Bible), I cringe. I retreat. I recognize that those people are probably not my people, even if they have other appealing qualities, like a sense of humor, or being a great performer, or being really intelligent. (And that one is the heart-breaker: really intelligent, educated, moderate-to-liberal people of faith, who never apply that intellect to their belief, unless it’s as an apologist. I just don’t get it.) 

I understand that for some people religion or faith or “spirituality” is a balm. I understand that we humans evolved with spiritual questions (about the nature of existence and out part in the scheme of things) much the same way that we evolved with language and story-telling, with tool use, with group identification. And all those things are still part of what makes us human. So, while I can’t reasonably expect humanity to entirely give up religion, or the need to seek answers to those kinds of questions, I (and we all) can and should hope that humanity lets certain things fall away when they’re no longer serving a beneficial purpose. Fall away, like the leaves that are falling off the trees right now outside my window. Those leaves will be replaced eventually. And I hope that hypocritical, fear-and-ignorance-based religions will be replaced by something useful. 

Oh! To put a nice, little, bring-it-all-back-to-my-original-starting-point bow on it... I didn’t make that comment on my facebook friend’s post, because this rant of mine has run to well over 1000 words, and who wants that on their facebook?

So, is this a poem, or what?

You were in my dream last night.
Not really you, though. I know that.

Just a copy, a doppelganger, maybe. A shadow left on my brain, 

but with dim eyes, and a small voice. A pale ghost.
A reminder
of things I thought were done and gone.

And I didn’t know 

if I should run to you or run away,
so I tortured myself instead. 

I opened up the dried box of my heart, 

looking for the words to say
or the feelings to feel that will make sense of it,
and let me be unstuck at last.


Now I lay here in bed, afraid to sleep again, 

afraid to see you,
afraid it’ll all start over again. 

I dreamed last night I got on the boat to heaven... 

Uh, no.

I dreamed last night that I was in actor housing somewhere I didn’t recognize, doing some show which was never specified in the dream. I didn’t know anyone else there, except one woman. She had been in a show I did about 9 years ago. 

This woman and I – when we did this show in real life – had a difficult...I don't know what to call it. It wasn’t a crush I had, and I wasn’t “in love” with her...okay, maybe I was, but it was more like I was insane about her. If you’ve ever heard, in some poetic context, “he was undone by her,” that is what it was. I was undone. And nothing sexual or romantic ever happened between us, but there was clearly this big thing that she didn’t want to deal with. So, I had a difficult whatever it was. She never would talk to me about it. Within a month or two I wrote 13 songs about her and a 10-minute play about her. Well, the play was more about me wanting her and not having her. She’s the reason I ran away to the beach that winter for 3 or 4 months and did nothing. 

So that’s who was in this dream. It was definitely, unambiguously her. I recognized her, and she recognized me. In this dream I didn’t have the same feelings as 9 years ago. But I also wasn’t pissed off at her, as I would expect. The last real life interaction we had – the only interaction since a few months after that show closed, when I decided I couldn’t keep trying to talk to her if she wasn’t going to talk to me about whatever the thing between us had been – was a couple of cryptic facebook messages from her which I responded to, then got angry about when she didn’t follow up.

In this dream last night, I was attracted to her, but not “undone,” though I was a little wary...suspicious, maybe. But definitely curious what was going on with her. She seemed a little flirty and a little aloof – not precisely at the same time. (That would be quite a trick.) Obviously, in this dream, it was not actually her – just some avatar of her apparently still wandering around in my subconscious. 

I’m not much of a believer. Someone once described me as generally agnostic, not only about religion but about things in general. So, while I find dreams curious sometimes, I don’t give a lot of significance to them. I hadn’t thought of her in a while, and probably the last several, or many, times I did think of her, it was just a quick, passing, shallow sort of thought: one time I did this show, and the woman who played that role – I totally crazy about her. But now, this morning, I am wondering about her, wondering what’s she’s doing these days, wondering what her experience was 9 years ago. And I’m even thinking about writing her. I don’t know what the purpose of that would be. Am I looking for closure? Or something else? I don’t know.

A few years ago, I wrote someone in an attempt to repair a damaged friendship. I sort of “extended an olive branch.” And it was clearly refused. It was as if that person didn’t want to be friends with me if it required effort. If I did write this “9 years ago” woman, it wouldn’t be the same situation. But that damaged friendship, along with the failure of various recent attempts (well, a year or two ago) to really be friends with people outside of rehearsals for a show, have suggested to me that people just don’t want to change the nature of their current relationship with others, especially if it takes any kind of effort. When you meet a new person, that new relationship is full of possibility. But once you have an established relationship, of whatever type (for me it’s overwhelmingly “friendly acquaintances”) it’s really hard to change that relationship, except when one of you gets angry or offended by the other person. 

Anyway... That’s my morning so far. How’s yours going?