I pretty much battle self-doubt, guilt and depression on a daily basis.
I can't pinpoint when it started happening. I don't think there was a specific event, although I could point at my production company dissolving 2 years ago as a big one. But then there's chicken and egg shit there. Did it all fall apart because of my self-doubt, guilt and depression or did those feelings appear because of its demise? Whatever.
The fact remains that I am 28 years old and I have accomplished nearly nothing since graduating from college. I've had a few bright spots here and there. I did this, I got this, I am one of these. But overall, I consider myself a failure. I didn't think 6 years out that I'd be in a nowhere job, pushing paper around in an industry that I care nothing about. I mean, I hate the business world. Wait, that's not true, I don't hate it. I just have no interest whatsoever. People meantion stocks, bonds, derivatives, risk management, confirmations, audit reports and I have no idea what they are saying. It's like they open their mouths and huge logs of shit come out. These words enter my consciousness and leave in the same instant. I don't care. I don't know what they mean and I don't really care to find out. I walk the halls at my job and my eyes just glaze over with salty tears of boredom. I care about so many other things. I love to read about history and fantasy and maps and geography and science and computers and countless other things. I spend copious amounts of time staring at wikipedia and reading random articles about self-fellatio and the battle of Iwo Jima. But if it has to do with money that isn't mine, I do not care one iota. I have more interest in taking a shit, tying my shoes and the mechanics of a paper cut.
Maybe that's part of the problem. My job is unfulfilling. But that was the point, wasn't it? To have a good-paying job I don't care about so that I could pursue my other various unprofitable interests. I thought working here would finance my dreams. And maybe it does to a certain point. But I find I'm actually doing less art than I was before. I'm writing more maybe, but I feel I haven't produced anything. I don't know. I'm trying to get a new job where I can breathe easier amongst more creative people. Like publishing or even advertising. Anything. That should help.
But that's not what I think about when I feel guilt, self-doubt and depression. All I think about is how everything I do sucks. I can't write anything which people even pretend to like. How can I be a writer if everything I write sucks? But is that just my perception? I wrote something for this magazine, and when it was posted this week, I found that the last couple of paragraphs were almost completely rewritten. Is it because they didn't agree with my viewpoint and wanted to edit it up some to be in more in line with their position? Or is it just the fact that I suck? I'm leaning towards the suckage.
But that's also my mind trying to rationalize what I feel. When I feel self-doubt, guilt and depression, it doesn't make any rational sense. I have no idea why I'm feeling what I'm feeling. My chest tightens up. Anxiety bubbles. I feel like I'm missing a deadline. A meeting that somebody called which I completely forgot about. I feel it sitting at my desk. I sometimes feel it walking to the bathroom. There's no reason for it. Which scares me even more.
I never felt this way when I was younger. I was cocky, confident and a blast to be around. Now I'm moody, mean, and unfunny. I have trouble coming up with smalltalk. I constantly think that I'm boring other people, or am just annoying. Maybe I was an asshole all along. And I'm just now becoming aware of it.
You want to hear something funny? I'm even doubting this crappy fucking post right now. I think about my audience of nil, and wonder if this diatribe will bore the non-existent people who aren't reading this blog. This crap is getting out of hand.
What do I do? Do I get drugs? Do I talk to a doctor? What? That depresses me even more. That I need to self-medicate because I can't cope. We all self-medicate I guess. I drink, I smoke. And when I do I feel moderately better. Or at least I forget my self-doubt, guilt and depressions for however long the drug lasts. Is that what Paxil does? Prozac? Should I go on Lithium, just for kicks?
Or should I just get off my ass and accomplish something?