Tag Archives: depression

September 5, 2026 · 9:38 am

The Point

I’ve had a hard time writing anything recently.

I did start a new hobby (recording) that I’ve discovered I enjoy even more than writing, if that were possible. I’ve been lax in my blog schedule in part because I’ve been recording instead.

I’ve had a hard time recording anything recently.

When it feels like the world might end any minute, it’s easy to despair. Easy to give up. Easy to start thinking, “What’s the point?” If whatever you make only lasts a few weeks or days or hours before everyone who could ever enjoy it vanishes forever, why bother?

I do what I can to earn the happy ending, the story that doesn’t end in the second act with all the heroes dead. It never feels like enough. Sometimes I feel guilty for not dropping everything else to focus my entire being on the problem, to abandon my family and possessions and join the proverbial mountaintop cloister. If the fate of the world really is at stake, wouldn’t that be the sane–the right–thing to do? I hear myself saying that I wouldn’t be worthy, that I’m helping more by just staying out of the way, but I don’t think I really believe that. So why do I keep living like everything’s normal?

Maybe it’s only selfishness and small-mindedness and fear talking, but…I think that would be missing the point.

It’s important to fight for the future, yes, and I’m not going to stop doing that. I’m going to keep thinking of ways I can help that might matter more, that play more to my strengths, that are more efficient. But I’m not going to stop living the life I still have in order to do it. I think that would be missing the point.

Even if everything we make gets erased tomorrow, it’s still worth making new things. Even if we only have a single day remaining on this Earth, it’s still good to work to make that day more beautiful. Even if we die tomorrow, it’s still right and proper to spend today living.

After all, living is what we’re working so hard to save in the first place.

Unbuffer

Well, my buffer is almost completely gone. On the other hand, I’m depressed! Wait, that’s not right. Let me try again:

I’ve got good news and bad news. The bad news is, my buffer’s gone. The good news is, there’s no good news. The–wait, shoot, that doesn’t work either.

How about this: I’m depressed, my buffer’s gone, the world’s ending, and I just made it through a really difficult ordeal. But at least I’m not proud of myself!

Hmm, still not quite right…

Okay, here we go: I’m depressed, falling behind at work, my buffer’s gone, my country is being turned into a dictatorship, my family’s risk of extermination rises with each passing day, AGI could arrive and turn the planet into goo any minute and people are wringing their hands over whether they’ll still have their jobs, and I’ve just made it through a very painful experience that I should feel proud of myself for facing, but I don’t.

HOWEVER.

I know I will be proud of myself someday.

I’m going to keep seeking–and spreading–as much joy as I can, right up until the last minute, whether that’s tomorrow or ten thousand years from now.

I’m going to keep fighting the fire even if it’s the whole world burning.

And although my buffer’s nearly gone, I’m still going to write. Even though it’s hard and everything I write sucks, I’ll still put something up here every day. And you know what? That’s something I do feel proud of.

And you know what else? I’ve realized that sometimes your garbage isn’t the things you create–sometimes it’s the things you do, the choices you make. But the good news (for real this time) is that your practice there will help you improve, too. If you’re feeling down on yourself for making a mistake, or if you took a risk and it backfired, remember this: the opposite of success isn’t failure, it’s giving up. The risks you paid the price for, the mistakes you’re ashamed to remember, the efforts that weren’t enough–you can’t get stronger without them. That doesn’t mean a stronger you will stop making mistakes or being hurt–quite the opposite! But without those failures, you’ll never grow.

Oh, and one more thing: if all that’s not enough to help you feel proud of yourself, I’m proud of you. Even if you don’t think your effort was worth any praise. Even if the results were lackluster. Even if it was a disaster! I’m proud of you for trying, and I know that even if you can’t imagine it now, you’ll choose to try again.

And so will I.

Absent Mind

Getting real sick of feeling like a shell. Not empty, exactly: all my parts are still here, still have weight and feeling and motion and thought. It’s just that I’ve gone missing.

When the lights are on, but nobody’s home, is there a word for how the home feels?

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Filed under Microblogging, My Life, Poetry

Tagged as depression, grief, missing