One day, the mind just turns on itself, and you can only wonder why. It becomes darkly analytical about you, your past, your behaviors, and all its conclusions are negative. You tell it no. Try thinking nice things, happy things, positive things, you tell it, but it simply focuses on the dying ember. That's when the inevitable fatigue sets in and there is nothing left to do but drug it. You wonder, after a lifetime of otherwise healthy activity, why your mind rebels against you now.
I guess I've never understood mental illness and true hopelessness. I've had a glimpse. I don't need any more than that.
The thing to do, I think, is just what they tell you to "Leave It To Beaver" style. "Father Knows Best." Etc.
"What do you learn from happy?" I've always asked. "Pull aside the curtain. Happy is but an illusion."
I understand "The Wizard of Oz." Dorothy was happier back in the old symbolic black and white than she was in technicolor. Alice was happier on top of the proverbial rabbit hole.
The world just wears you down. It's not your fault. That is what the doctor told me about physical health. "It's nothing you did. It is a matter of age, genetics, and luck."
Not matter. You can't fix a lifetime. There is nothing you can do about it. It is a matter of age, genetics, and luck.
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