Day 177: Windscreen

It's past midnight. I've been asleep. I got in from work, turned my computer on, then passed out. It was 10pm when I awoke, lost and lonely, knowing I needed to eat. I cooked a pizza and ate in front of YouTube, my plate lit by the glowing screen.

I find it hard not to waste my life when I’m tired like this. I get tired really easily, because I’m always depressed in the background, and then I get more depressed because I’m tired and I don’t have the energy to fight off the negative thoughts. It’s like dirt on a windscreen, being prone to depression is like having windscreen wipers that don’t work. Everyone has dirt splash up at the windscreen of their consciousness all the time, but people with good mental health have an inbuilt ability to wipe their consciousness clean as they move through life, allowing them to see out at all the beauty in the world. And there is a lot of beauty, and it makes the dirt that splashes up worth it, and these people know from experience that the dirt never sticks around, and the tough times don’t last.

But if you’ve got faulty windscreen wipers then the dirt starts to accumulate. This dirt isn’t necessarily worse than for anyone else - although the windscreen wipers may have initially been damaged by too much dirt early on (in fact this is the number one cause).

So depressed people have to reach out of the window continuously and rub off the dirt. It’s difficult to reach. It’s cold. It’s hard work. You clear the windscreen and almost immediately it needs clearing again. You look at those other cars and they seem to function so effortlessly. And nothing for you happens easily. It’s all a slog.

It’s exhausting. And here’s where I’m at now. You’re working long hours, you’re trying to do as much as possible (less than most people, a lot for what you’re used to), and it’s so hard to find the energy to reach out and clear that windscreen of the dirt. So you drive along in the gloom behind a filthy pane of glass, and everything you see is clouded, murky, undefined. You go slowly, in low gear, gripping the wheel, and still objects loom from the fog, and you have to swerve to miss them.

All your attention goes on just staying on the road, and it’s even harder to find the energy to reach all the way up and outside and scrub the windscreen of that ingrained muck (knowing if you do it’ll just be back soon anyway). So you resign yourself instead to just coping like this.

Eating oven pizzas. Dozing in front of YouTube videos. Sleepwalking through work.

And of course without forcing yourself to clean that windscreen the dirt only gets worse. The view out darker, lonelier, any beauty impossible to see. And so it’s even more effort to simply stay on the road. And even harder to clean the windscreen. And the dirt gets worse…

So I guess it’s good at least that I recognise this? Good to be aware of myself on these terms.

The writing helps, sometimes a lot, sometimes only a little, but it is building structure and routine. Many days (most) it’s not a full wipe of the windscreen, but it’s at least bringing my awareness to the glass, checking in with myself, remembering where I keep the cloths and soap.

I just need to stay the course. Keep turning up. And be aware that this is not an easy ride. This is not a nice thing to go through. It's no surprise I don't achieve as much as some people, that I'm tired absolutely all the time. But others have it far worse, and in a trillion ways I'm lucky, getting to drive this vehicle of being through life.

So a reminder: go at the pace I need, relax the fingers on the wheel, keep cleaning that glass.