Thursday, October 12, 2006

I see a darkness


I've listened to the song I See a Darkness often of late. It's written by Will Oldham of Bonnie Prince Billy, and performed by both Oldham and Johnny Cash (I stand corrected). It's a sad song in a hopeful sort of way. And although it might make some melancholy, it's been a comfort to me.

Because depression sucks.

I thought that I knew something about depression. I mean, I've felt depressed before. I've wanted to stay in bed in the morning and cry, that kind of thing. And I've read about it, and am close friends with a few depressed people. Nonetheless, I'm ready to say that I've never been depressed before, not really, not like this. Not where all the color is sucked out of the world, where even red grows pale and empty. Where I start wondering about the point of it all anyway, and why not just get it all over with.

But I am lucky. I can blame this godawful state, mostly at least, on a cheap little drug prescribed to alleviate my migraines. This drug isn't exotic or new, it's a pedestrian antidepressant called nortripaline, and it makes most people happy. All my web research on the drug reveals that it helps most its users. And it did take away my migraines. But at a cost.

I thought that I was losing it. I blamed it on my fiancé. I broke up with him twice. I blamed it on the seminary, on all the other happy beaming couples on this glowing little campus. I blamed it on Nostalgia leaving, on my never-ending car problems, on work, a lack of money, on my parents, my ex-husband, on God. I was ready to just lay down and go to sleep for good.

And while I'm hopeful that the drug will soon be gone from my system permanently, I've learned a good deal from this awful episode. 1) depression is shitty. Depressed people are my heroes and deserve full compassion and sympathy. 2) life is incomparably better without Nortriplaline's mind games, it's a lesson in gratitude. 3) call home more often. I talked to my Mom about it for the first time yesterday and she said she's had a similar response to the drug and had gone off of it after five days. 4) both prayer and yoga are unbeatable as ways to manage depression. 5) Rachel (aka Red), Dr R (aka Charlie Brown) and my fiancé (aka Nebojsa) all love me very much.

Here are the lyrics to the Will Oldham/Johnny Cash song that's kept me company the last month:

Well, you're my friend, and can you see?
Many times, we've been out drinking;
Many times we shared our thoughts.
But did you ever, ever notice, the kind of thoughts I got?
Well, you know I have a love; a love for everyone I know.
And you know I have a drive, to live I won't let go.
But can you see its opposition, comes rising up sometimes?
That its dreadful imposition, comes blacking in my mind?

And then I see a darkness,
And then I see a darkness,
And then I see a darkness,
And then I see a darkness.
Did you know how much I love you?
Its a hope that somehow you,
Can save me from this darkness.

Well, I hope that someday buddy
We have peace in our lives;
Together or apart,
Alone or with our wives,
And we can stop our whoring,
And pull the smiles inside,
And light it up forever,
And never go to sleep.
My best unbeaten brother,
This isn't all I see.

Oh no, I see a darkness.
Oh no, I see a darkness.
(Oh) no, I see a darkness.
Oh no, I see a darkness.
Did you know how much I love you?
Its a hope that somehow you,
Can save me from this darkness.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

"I see a darkness" is a great song (though it actually was written by Will Oldham and covered by Johnny Cash, not the other way around).

I hope you feel better, and I hope the music keeps comforting you.