Following a link in a friend-linked article this morning lead me to an article with the title: Prone to Depression? Scientists Say it’s Due to Your Creativity.

The article went on – in not any particular detail – to draw a quick line between creative people and feeling out of place and then onto loneliness and depression. But I couldn’t help but think, while reading it: “Aren’t we all creative? Aren’t we all prone to depression? Don’t we all have that feeling of not fitting in to certain places and times in our lives?”.

It felt a little lazy. And a bit intentionally emotive and like it was attempting to evoke some “us and them” feelings. And I’m as inclined towards thinking I’m different and special from the “normies” as the next person, but it’s a protective judgemental skin, and I’m trying to learn not to wear it so much.

“Being weird is far more interesting than being normal.” says the article. Come the fuck on. Everyone is a little bit weird, aren’t they? Everyone feels out of place and like they are a jigsaw piece that just doesn’t fit. It’s not the creative person’s affliction – it’s just the human bloody condition.

Okay look, I’m not some zen accepting human-loving person. If there’s a spectrum of out-of-place feeling, I’m at the top end of it. If there’s a prize for being the youngest person to think I was part of a huge alien experiment and the only true human on the planet (5 or 6), I’d definitely be in line for the podium.

But, and maybe it’s in part because I’ve lived with being an out of sync person for so long that I think “you just have to get on with it”. At some point you get to make decisions about how you’re going to be in the world. And while there’s a cost of entry to dealing and living with other humans (one that I am often very grudging about paying), you are getting something for that payment. And if it feels like the people around you don’t feel all out of place and struggle with existing and reacting with human responses, chances are they’re just managing kinda well with the hiding of it right now. Don’t begrudge them that ability. You don’t know what they secretly cry over when they get home.

The only thing we know is that we don’t know.

In other news of consumption, I’ve been consuming some Netflix media about eating disorders. Netflix has really been pushing its original content movie “To The Bone” and I had been avoiding it. I thought it might be triggering and put me in a bit of an unhealthy mindset. But then I drifted into watching a docu-series called “Addicted To Food” and from the latter I easily segued into the former.

Anyway, interesting. And surprisingly not triggering. I know that a me of ten years ago watching either of those would have found “motivation” to be even more unhealthy and restrictive in my approach to food. Me today, though … I just found it awoke more of a desire to pay attention to how I am around food.

I want to say that I’m not recommending either programme particularly – I think that the treatment options showcased have some problems in both cases – but I guess it’s something that I’m thinking about a bit at the moment.

You know what? I don’t think I have this set sequence of problems and that I can check them off, tick-tick-ticking little boxes as I go down the list and “winning” my way to perfection. What I think is that I have one problem and it manifests itself through different problematic behaviours. And it’s fine to treat the symptoms for a while – in fact, when it comes to something like drinking too much, it was probably even necessary to treat the symptoms in order to allow my brain the space for the coming work.

I don’t think I’ve completely just shifted the full weight (pardon the pun) of the issues I managed with drinking onto eating. Well, for one thing, the eating behaviours were there at the same time, and for another I actually do think I’ve made some progress – despite all the whining I engage in here. But neither am I “all better”. Four months free from alcohol has been a great gift to myself, and one I’m intending on continue to gift me, but it’s not the solution in and of itself.

Now the deeper work has to start.

But I’m still just beating down the brush, tramping down the brambles off in the wilderness and staring at the path in the distance. I’m starting to get comfortable here. I’m starting to feel like I could set up camp here. I don’t really want to go further. The potential of the path in my future is way more attractive than the scary reality of my feet upon it.

Coz what would I do then? Live?!

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