i can't believe how many tries it took me to find a name acceptable to Blogpot that wasn't already taken. how many 'windsongs' are there in the world anyway? it always serves as a reminder to me that what i think of as individual to me -my name- really isn't: like when you think about naming your future children and you say 'eeww, i'm never going to name my child ___, i know a ____ and that would be nasty' as if your child would somehow, because of her name, turn out to be a carbon copy of the distasteful ____.
anyway. reasons for the creation of this Blog abound:
(1) inspired by The Boyfriend's blog
. he puts stuff up there. go read. =)
(2) inspired by a really long rant i had bottled up inside of me that i restrained myself from spilling into extended email. now i can rant here as much as i want, and you can choose to read as much as you want. hah.
(3) a desire sometimes to just type my insides out, and send my musings out into the netherspace of the ether world. it doesn't matter if no one ever reads or comments, in fact no comments are desired. it's just a desire to put them out there, rather than store them in here: the world as an external storage device for memories, as Coupland puts it in Microserfs
and as a first posting, the aforementioned rant on depression:
it's suicide awareness month or something along those lines on campus and everywhere you turn, in the dining halls and eating places, in the bathrooms, on the walls, there are flyers advertising the presence of the student resource and counselling service on campus. they have a therapist on call and everything. and the thing about depression is -- the hardest part is the asking for help, recognising that you have a problem and that you need to get help. it's just like the person in the article says - the depressed person reaches out for help in the only way he or she knows how, by talking to people and hinting that something is wrong. the very nature of depression means that very often the depressed person is incapable of walking into a therapist's office and saying 'i need help'; he or she needs someone else to wake up to the problem, and take them to the office, maybe even forcibly drag them to the doctor's and say 'this person needs help, even if he/she won't admit it.'
it's a scary-ass disease, depression is, and so many people don't seem to understand that it IS a clinical disease, there IS a physiological aspect to it, it's not purely psychological, and it is potentially lethal. sure, it's important to focus on the fact that 85% of the time depression can be cured, but that doesn't tell you anything about the years of therapy, the medication, the almost-deaths, the months in hospital. the process of surviving depression is so much harder than going to a therapist and saying 'i need to get help' -just getting to the point of saying 'i need help' and accepting that help is so hard for many people who are battling depression.
i'm not sure what the point of my little rant on depression is, except that the article jon sent out reminded me about all the things that upset me about the way depression is handled in the real world, and that always just sets me off. has anyone here read Prozac Nation [it's by Elizabeth Wurtzel]? it's scary. it's real. it's like reading Sylvia Plath's journals, but modernised, stripped of the romance that surrounds a poet's life and leaving you with just the disease to deal with. the craziness of it. it's depressing as hell. when i read that, i asked myself how anyone ever finds the strength to come out of the darkness, and how anyone ever finds the strength to stand by someone who needs help and give it, constantly and unhestitatingly, as long as it's necessary. because depression is not just hard on the patient, but also on the people around him/her, who have to care for that person despite the weird feeling that the person you're caring for is no longer the person you once knew in any meaningful way.