OVER THE BOTTOMLESS PIT, CLIMBING HIGH
ON THE TIGHTROPE BETWEEN GRAVITY’S PULL AND THE LIGHT OF THE GLOWING SOUL
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Because it’s sunless, gray, and the wind has teeth here in Portland on this day – with temperatures barely scraping 20 degrees when the wind isn’t whipping miniature ice shards toward you at roughly one trillion miles per hour – I can feel the tug of the shadow this morning. Not too bad. Just enough to know it’s there.
And as fate would have it, this particular entry popped up in my daily Facebook Memory feed. Originally posted in 2017, it’s been shared more than a few times since, because it seems to strike a note for those who struggle. Which, at one point or another, is pretty much everyone.
HOPE YOU’RE HAVING A BEAUTIFUL DAY! But if not, maybe this might come in handy.
JOHN SKIPP recognizes all too well the cognitive disconnect between crippling depression and enormous enthusiasm, when it comes to this thing called life. Some lean toward the one. Some lean toward the other. With most of us falling somewhere in between.
I have lived my whole life trying to walk that line, teetering hard into the dark every bit as often as I cheerfully careen into light. With the nervous breakdowns to prove it.
Left to my own impulses, I'd spend a whole lot more time in the dark. I used to, believe me. (Writing horrible horror didn't come out of NOWHERE.)
But given the choice between steering one way or the other, I aim for the light, with the thorough understanding that the dark isn't going anywhere. To paraphrase Kate Bush: I don't need to look for the darkness. The darkness always seems to find me just fine.
In keeping with the evident laws of gravity, plummeting's a lot easier than climbing. This does not mean that the light is weaker. THE LIGHT IS IMMENSE. Every bit as deep and strong. Every bit as infinite.
For some people, positivity and confidence come easily. For others, it's almost ALL CLIMB, if we reach for it at all. In the war between I-can't-possibly-do-this and I-am-totally-doing-this, the doing is way harder than not.
I say this as a person who has spent his whole life fighting gravity and climbing, in spite of and BECAUSE of the bottomless undertow of despair I feel on a fucking daily basis.
And though I may never reach the top, what I've managed to achieve -- and which I guess I want to share -- is a sense of balance.
When depression has its hands on you, there is nowhere but down. And the down goes on forever, bottomless. Once you know that, there is no unknowing it. Just fall after fall after fall.
When enthusiasm gets its hands on you, it's a whole 'nother story. You see a thing you want to do, or have, or -- more specifically -- BE. You see a self who might actually be able to pull off the things you wish you could.
And you go, "Fuck it. I'M DOING THAT."
Whether it works or not, you do it. If it doesn't, you do it again better. Learn from what you missed. Solve the puzzle of doing that thing. Develop some fucking skills.
In the process, that enthusiasm feeds itself. Develops new strategies. Has fun doing so. Attracts other people, who ALSO like fun, and are climbing themselves, looking for clues.
Next thing you know, shit is starting to happen. THINGS YOU ACTUALLY LIKE. And they don't just point down at the darkness, in confirmation of your own self-loathing. They point up at all the OTHER shit you might actually pull off, if you keep on trying and trying and trying.
The not-drowning person you're hoping to be.
Lemme tell you flat out: every single amazing thing that any amazing person ever managed to accomplish followed pretty much precisely these steps.
And that is my advice to you.
Cheerful as I may seem, I plummet at least a little every single day. Even on some of my best days, I cave so hard into fuck-myself mode that it's all I can do to not curl up and die.
The pull of the bottom is unspeakably immense. And I would not be my true self without it.
But the harder I climb, the more balanced I feel. AND HAPPIER, TOO!!! With more cool things done, and cooler people around me.
Balance is everything, baby.
And you are not alone.