And In Short, I Was Afraid

The sign off name at the bottom of the posts comes from my most favorite poems of all time, The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock.

I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the Eternal Footman hold my coat and snicker,
And, in short, I was afraid.

Something about that poem....certain lines just grab at a muscle or nerve right behind my gut and just pull. It's the same feeling that happens at a certain line of music, or a certain space of time when a bunch of disparate elements...the light through a window, music from a speaker, noticing the time in a clock on a wall...come together and make a palpable, tangible sort of something that reminds you that your time is short, you are getting older, and there are many, many things that you will never do or that you can never really communicate to someone else, even if you are close to them.

It sounds like a bunch of hokum, mostly because it's a something that can't be easily defined by words....those disparate elements that you can't reproduce in words on a paper or in a post are the best way of definining that feeling. I don't know if everyone feels those things at times, or if it's just a function of the depression...or the medicine I am taking in hopes to relieve it.

It's been a boomslang of a day today as if it weren't obvious. My emotions have been ricocheting all over the place and I don't know why. For a control freak like me that is the worst...doing all the things that I am supposed to be doing, taking the meds at the right times, eating the tryptophan rich foods and taking the multi vitamins, drinking the water and the herbal teas and going for long walks and watching funny things....and watching your state of mind plummet.

Two more slices of toast (carbs are good for serotin production) and I'm off to bed. Sleep works when nothing else will.