12/12/05
I remember the winter the beast took over: it was 1979, I was twelve, and I didn't talk to anybody for about four months. My beast is not alcoholism, nor sex or drug addiction - it is, simply, inertia. It's a slothlike monster, mid-yawn, that swallows energy whole and leaves me with little desire even to do the things I love.
I have fed the monster everything I could throughout the years: in puberty, I fed it testosterone and unrequited love, and it just got fatter. In college, I fed it wine coolers, then bourbon and cokes, then tequila, and it grew despondent.
In the last decade I have fed it espresso after espresso, enough caffeine to power a ferris wheel, and though it shows temporary signs of excitement - a raised eyebrow, the nod of a head - it soon slips back into coma. Welbutrin couldn't pierce it, nor can I play enough basketball games to outrun it.
It's an open maw into which has fallen so many projects, so many bills, and the occasional friend. It has a slow digestion, so glacial that you cannot see it move, thus convincing you perhaps everything was okay while you were sleeping. It was not.
I'm caught in an arm-wrestle with the beast, from the mystical to the mundane, making it hard to think about the future, and hard to get up to change the laundry. We go at it every day, and I win 51% of the time, not hardly enough.
When I am old and no longer have the dexterity of my current body, I don't want to feel like I was rooked. I don't want to wake up and reflect upon a life four-fifths lived. I want all burners on, all thrusters go, all stops pulled, all canvas out. My oar drags, and the water is brown.
Posted by Ian Williams at December 12, 2005 8:23 PMIan, this was a beautiful post. I am always floored when people are able to serve up their pain in such an exquisite way. Thank you for that.
Scary to think what kind of mood you'd be in if you didn't have a kid and a marriage and a TV deal.
Very eloquent. I, too, battle the beast. It has been hardest for me when I haven't had structure to my day. I find that imposing such structure helps immensely, even if it's just setting the alarm to wake up at a specific time and then promptly showering and dressing. There's something good in these morning rituals.
You have done more already than most people have done in a lifetime, and it has affected hundreds (maybe thousands) of people who have been moved by your words, attended your social events or just been inspired by this blog one morning. I know that reason can't make depression go away, though.
I was searching for an earlier Oprah entry, while you were keeping us in suspense with the new one, and I read some of your entries from 2002. You come off so much stronger now. But I guess this entry reminds us that the beast never goes away - it's only kept at a (barely) manageable level.
It's the UNDERTOAD! Just remember, life is pass fail. You might have some trouble getting things done, but at least you're not rounding people up, shooting them, and then bulldozing them into mass graves.
On the topic of the big O, I just finished reading "Zanesville" by Kris Saknussemm. It's a Sci Fi novel , but mostly it's all of 20th Century American Culture thrown in a food processor and chopped. One of those Kurt Vonnegut and Williams S Burroughs tapdancing on the grave of Jonathan Swift sort of books.
Anyway, so the Giant Robots of Las Vegas have gone berserk, and 50 foot high Fat Oprah is battling 50 foot high Thin Oprah, stepping on people, and detroying buildings, and one character says "So this is the way the world ends, not with a bang, but a Winfrey."
I usually don't post after these kinds of entries b/c I don't know you so well, but Ian, that was truly affecting, haunting.
Oliver, and others who might think similarly, just because you "have" things, doesn't mean you shed your insecurites/hang-ups/personal demons. They slough off but rejuvenate like skin cells. They laugh at you from your shadow.
This makes me sound a lot darker than I feel, but I believe it to be true nonetheless. In a way, each of us has a Beast to face. For some, shyness might be their Beast. For others, a lack of education might be their Beast. For some, the Beast is a big, dangerous monster who wants to kill them.
But seriously, great post, Ian.
And yet, in the throes of the struggle with the inertia-beast, you are still able to offer up such delicate prose which beautifully describes that which is horrible personal pain. I think by expressing it, you've already moved past it. Thank you for sharing, and you've got help on your side of the arm-wrestle from me.
I have the same problem. But, cross-country trips, t.v. deals, a home and a farm to keep together, being creative here everyday, and all with a kid in tow........don't be too hard on yourself. Beating the monster 51% of the time is still beating the monster. Time spent worrying about whether you are beating the monster probably makes up 20% of the other 49%.
And make your bed every morning. It works.
Don't underestimate a 51% victory; that and Daddy can get you elected president!
I second the making your bed recommendation.
(also, well stated, sir, well stated.)
Ian, I don't know whether you make your bed or not (Andrew, I loved your post), but every night you write a post, and then thousands of us read it. Your words mean a lot to us, especially when we're on the floor under the table ourselves. So thank you for mustering it up to write for us every day, whether you feel like it or not.
Regarding Oliver's comment . . .
From my experience, sometimes the more you have, the worse you feel. There's no hope, because you already have the things that were supposed to make you happy AND you feel pathetic for being unhappy in spite of all you have. But most of all, good fortune is irrelevant because depression isn't rational, it's chemical and sometimes if you don't have good brain chemistry, you don't have anything.
Hope that made sense, because I don't have time to edit - I have to tend to my 8 week old daughter who I really hope got my husband's brain chemistry!
get some sun if possible. sounds corny but that whole seasonal mood stuff is real.
again....a beautiful entry.
is there a 12 step program for inertia?
step 1: get up
step 2: get up
step 3:...
funny but when you posted this it didn't sound to me like you were describing something you considered depression, in the sense of like, a clinical disease, but more like an inner state of mind you could master through like, yoga or accupuncture or meditation or something. i'm sure the way you look at the affliction actually affects the outcome because you'll be on a real frustration cycle if you're in trial-and-error mode not finding the right path.
Actually, I'm a big supporter of better living through chemistry--and of Ian too, not that I want to discourage anybody from sticking up for him. That wry remark I made was an all-in-one expression of sympathy, support, therapy and humor, which I aim to patent as soon as I work the bugs out. (Ian, Ian, snap out of it Ian.)
The next time I visit my psychiatrist, I am going to print this post, hand it to the doc, and say "ditto this! This is me, baby!"
Like everyone else said, that's a beautiful piece of writing. Especially the last sentence. Thank you for adding to my collection of jewels today.
I hate to pile on, especially when the only other person who is calling you out in public is you, but...
...if you used the phone more, and the in-tor-net less, you wouldn't need to tell yourself you're a piece of shit, or need the ensuing comments to cheer yourself up.
I, or any number of your flesh and blood friends, could do both in half the time.
indeed, we all have our private battles. and, sometimes i do beat myself up because there are those two ladies in toledo cleaning toilets (plants or otherwise), but that doesn't not nullify my stuggles. and, every day that we get out of bed is a success.
i love kent's observation that life is pass fail.
keep up the good work. you're passing with flying colors in my book!
Beat the monster at his own game.
Every November go to Auckland, Santiago or Hobart until March.
I would if I could. For the fishing.
badbob
Ian, as one who has battled the beast so long and so hard that the beast is subletting a room in my new house (keep your friends close and your enemies closer), I must say I have been delighted to read about your 51% victories these past few years. They have helped inspire me to keep getting up even on the darkest days. Keep it up and, as someone in a post above said, remember that in life, as in basketball, a win is a win.
I find the exercise is E-ssential. That and sharing/deriving energy with/from the kids rather than having energy sapped from you like a, uh sap, uh tree.
Is badbob fishing for us to imagine him as Hemingway-esque? I can picture the waders.
And collegebashfulblueboy, maybe you're just vicariously stressing over finals and tests and papers this time o'year? Time for a blue cup for yer blues. The air are crisp.
Well I ain't as fat as Hemingway, but yeah, I fish with hand-tied flies, practice catch/release and have since I was 12. Waders? I prefer to wade wet but yeah, I wear 'em.
In the last year? Madison, Yough and Savage. Last time? Right before Halloween. Too cold now, best to transfer energy to carrying shotgun, yelling at Setter and bagging a few quail/grouse from time to time...almost catch/release (bad shot).
Does it beat the blues? Hell yes. Exercise, all day, outdoors is gooood. Wish I could swap hemispheres in the winter for those places.
Endless summer- think about it. And all it would take would be $$$$.
badbob