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August 10, 2012

This week I have been enduring an episode of intense gloom and depression.

This is not the result of a clearly defined clinical condition but stems from immediate circumstances and from unfortunate events that have affected my whole life.

I’m aware that misery is deeply unattractive and something people fear as potentially contagious.

My efforts to be brave, not whine, maintain a brave front etc often result in an offputting abruptness, excessive impatience, the foul reek of an impenetrable and inexplicable pessimism.

Nevertheless, my affection for the “straight face” and what I like to call the “Irish” in me make me suspicious of displays of good humour and positivity, so that it can be difficult to respond to even the blandest greetings or the friendliest enquiries.

As a teen I would sit on one of the speed bumps on the drive at my boarding school and try to tell myself the very worst had already happened, that things would get better if I could just endure a while longer.

Of course I hoped that love would save me, and still do, though that wish seems to become more grotesque and inappropriate with each passing year.

A better and more sensible man would offer himself outside his comfort zone but ridiculous vanity and fear prevent me.

You may easily see why such a person may have failed to secure a life partner or to have established himself in his chosen career or any other, even as it seems time really is running out for him.

Even so, one endures long enough to receive one more kindly act or gesture and a small piece of good luck, the clouds begin to lift and life goes on.

We each have our own kind of misery to endure but we do it, don’t we, and that’s not entirely selfish.


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One Comment
  1. Sending hugs from the Irish Sea somewhere, but wifi keeps breaking up. Will be in touch when I get back. x


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