Doth any man doubt, that if there were taken out of men's minds, vain opinions, flattering hopes, false valuations, imaginations as one would, and the like, but it would leave the minds, of a number of men, poor shrunken things, full of melancholy and indisposition, and unpleasing to themselves?   Francis Bacon

Thursday, June 03, 2010

Missing

I do not think that missing one dose of tryptophan makes me susceptible to depression, but I do think realising I have breaks the placebo element of it.

So I negotiated a difficult conversation that shouldn't have been difficult but left me wondering where I stand, and I reached for the fortitude, the resilience I've built, so that I could just not care. But it was lacking and I knew that that was because I knew I had missed my tryptophan last night.

It is like a pit opens up and I have no idea what should be filling it. When I feel loved, I know it isn't there. But sometimes I feel like I cannot be loved, because there is no me for them to find.

I know we are empty, confused by the echoes in the space within us into thinking that we can be filled. I know that but I can't stop wanting to be complete.

***

Sometimes I wish I had a friend to tell me, don't be so emo. And then I realise that I am that friend. The world can be dishonest and brutal, and I can be too, but I don't need to be dishonest or brutal with myself. I can hold myself tightly and cease to be anything but the flickers of light that you see in the broken pieces of me that we are pretending is a man.

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