Monday, Apr. 26, 2004 - 10:31 p.m.
What I remember when my self esteem is low:
L asks ďWhy are you sad? Why donít you like yourself today?Ē But itís not like that. Thereís no reason, or thereís every reason. Itís rainingÖI was feeling shy yesterday but we played a show and so I had to talk to a bunch of peopleÖa friend very innocently mentioned that Iíd been off-key on a few of the backing vocal partsÖI drank too much SaturdayÖI will be unemployed in a week and a half. But those things donít cause the ickiness. The ickiness just descends. It feeds on whatever it can find, but it is caused by nothing outside of me. Itís not cured externally, either: hearing nice things about myself or accomplishing something good never makes it go away. It just stays for a while and then dries up.
If itís depression, itís a very mild and specific form: apart from some physical dejection it ever only manifests itself as bad self esteem. I just donít like myself for a while, and then I do again.
So that showed up today and murgled around all through a productive day at work, a walk in the rain, a really good quesadilla, an Edward Gorey book, and the ingenious system I rigged up to direct the water from my leaky ceiling into the kitchen sink. See? Whatever brain chemicals are responsible here have no idea whatís going on in the real world.