Great Big Thing Crawlin' All Over Me

Older generations found the vocabulary to describe the supra-rational in the Bible. I find it in song lyrics. A line from Big Black's Steelworker describes depression as I've known it: "great big thing crawlin' all over me." Depression crawls through the brain sticking its tendrils into your every thought. But enough melodrama. I can hardly compete with Down in It by Mr. Trent Reznor and Failure by the aptly named Swans.

Medication defangs depression, but a defanged animal can still keep you awake at night. Depression exaggerates, but it still has its point to make. I interpret its point as follows: "do more with your life: exercise, talk to other human beings, change the world, find somebody to love." Valid, I reply, but why do you have to be such an asshole about it? Let me read a book or watch a TV show without sticking your tendrils in.

Alcohol and writing are temporary panaceas for depression. Ultimately however, the only cure is to thine own self being true. By "self" I don't mean id and ego with their cries for instant or slightly extended gratification. I mean that better nature you sometimes hear squealing from under the avalanche of psychic noise. Call it the divine spark, Atman or some less poetic neurological equivalent. Perhaps, "that thing beneath the great big thing."