The dialectics of mental illness. I’m fine but I’m also not fine. At the same time. The way up the mountain is also the way down. The tree is crooked but it’s also straight. When you are manic, there is no concept of not being manic- you have truly reached your ideal state! You can’t remember why you are not always at this level! When you are depressed you don’t understand how you are never not depressed.
You know when you see a car commercial, and the wheel is moving forward but it looks like it’s moving in reverse? I’m the wheel. I’m the fucking wheel. "My body’s moving forward but my mind is reeling."- Bad Religion. This also comes up again, this self-satirizing detachment, this vacillation, this economy of salvation. Oh to be simple, such a simple thought.
But one stemming from unbearable privilege. In The Denial of Death, Ernest Becker wrote "Man cannot endure his own littleness unless he can translate it into meaningfulness on the largest possible level." The Gnostics said so. But here I am in all my limitations, singing about limitations. Am I having a breakdown or am I having a breakthrough?