The World Is Depressed (Not Me), Part 2
I feel like the depression of everyone in the whole world is somehow being absorbed through my skin. Like I’m a sponge soaking it all up. And it’s not anything specific that anyone says or any particular event, it’s just a feeling. As if it’s unsafe for me to leave my apartment. People I encounter just in passing, in random transactions, seem depressed.
So several questions come to mind. Is it just me? Am I depressed? Am I just projecting my own feelings onto the entire world? It seems that I’m extremely tired lately for no reason. My annual checkup at the doctor’s didn’t find anything wrong. Is the tiredness and slowing down just part of the aging process? Or is it how my depression is manifesting itself? And I don’t seem to have much of an appetite, or motivation, or enjoyment of anything, except for reading philosophy and poetry. Or is it something about me that is making people feel wary and hateful? Am I not wearing enough makeup? Am I bad dresser? Obviously, I think I’m doing a good enough job when I go out, but also, I think, who cares? Does anyone in the entire world care if I leave the confines of my apartment without applying eye shadow? Because, to be honest, lately I haven’t been bothering. It seems like an unnecessary extra step, and also I worry about irritating my eyes.
The way people respond and react to me makes no sense to me whatsoever. Maybe because it’s about them and not me. Some people seem to love me and others seem to hate me, and I really don’t know why anyone would bother either way. But I think what does bother me (and bothers me a lot) is when people who previously seemed to like me a lot suddenly seem hostile or withholding or wary. It makes me think that I put myself out there socially for the purpose of connection and it backfired horribly. Or it could have something to do with astrological signs and horoscopes (but I don’t understand how or why any of that stuff could possibly work and have predictive and explanatory power).
From the book Love, illustrated and designed by Vanni, story by Lowell A. Siff, published 1964.
But also, it occurs to me, if I am just absorbing all the depression in the entire world, people have a lot of reasons to be depressed. There are many things going on in the world to be concerned about. Even if the politicians you like won, you must be aware that there are many in the world who disagree with you. And maybe that’s what people are afraid of and the only reason for liking any politician at all is because of fear. If they’re like mine, people’s newsfeeds and notifications must be filled with crap which they don’t know if they should believe or take seriously. And even if they know it’s crap, then they know that there are people or bots spreading crap and at least some people are believing it or liking it or being influenced by it. And I know some would advise me to not look at any of it at all, but I feel like I should pay a little bit of attention. And then, sometimes, often enough to make it worthwhile, amongst all the horrible crap, I find bits that are useful, informative.
This morning I woke up from a terrible dream. I don’t usually remember much about my dreams. Or I remember only vaguely, generally, that they were weird or scary or sexy or whatever. It was so horrible I had to wake up from it, and the end featured someone from my real life, someone I loved very much, was crazy about, in early adulthood, my teens and twenties. We recently reconnected, but I don’t think it’s going to be a romance rekindled. The connection and attraction are still there, but also the same problem, which is a problem I have had with some other boyfriends (and girlfriends, for that matter), and that is, they always want to be the boss, which I find insufferable.
So in the dream I’m trying to get to a train on time, and I’m having a problem making it all work out. I’m trying to get to New Haven, but the somewhat boorish train station employee sells me a ticket for Los Angeles instead, saying that’s the only option, which I don’t think is true. And then my schedule is messed up, and I have to find a way back to the train station after the delay. And I can’t get a taxi or an Uber when I need one, and I wonder if I can ride a bike-share bike even though I never learned how to ride a bike. And then this person from my life helps me get to the train station (saves the day, so to speak), and he buys me a cup of coffee while we wait, and we sit down at a table and chairs, and that’s when it goes horribly wrong. He throws my coffee on the floor and starts yelling at me. I’m surprised and don’t understand why he’s so angry and acting this way. He yells, “Nothing is ever good enough for you!” I’m trying to placate and reassure him that I very much appreciate the coffee and everything he’s done for me. And I’m being as nice and sweet as I possibly can, to the point of being obsequious. Then he tells me how he’s told his friends about me and now they hate me and he lists them one by one, by name, saying they hate me. So I’m listening to this endless, repetitive list: “Lynda hates you; Robin hates you; Cynthia hates you …” etc. And it just goes on and on. And I start to slip from my chair, falling to the floor, as if the words were being thrown at me, physically knocking me down.
So I think there’s an analogy or allegory or object lesson or subtext or something like that in this dream, which is telling me something about how the world feels about me or how I feel about it. Or maybe it’s saying something more general about the state of the world, that doesn’t have anything specifically to do with me at all.