I.. I... "sighs" I don't know, depressed perhaps

maxmordon

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Last night I cried before going to sleep... I am just feeling despair and anger and I don't know why specifically. It's like, a feeling of impotence and frustration and the feeling I am slowly getting consumed by a feeling of undirected hate and I don't know what I hate...

"sighs" why to bother? Why to delude myself writing? it leads nothing, just to delusion and chimeras of worlds that does not exist outside of my head to poorly copy them on paper just to get it rejected and then, if is God's will, to get it published and got it read it by no one. With that, is better to try to win the lotery that pretending success can be made and finish in some crappy high school teaching literature, a wife that doesn't love me and using saturday nights to write two paragraphs of a never ending delusion...

I think that's why fantasy is so popular now, people just don't want to live in this world, in this reality, never compromise. not even in the face of armaggedon, the darn global village took off our sense of wonder and community. "we" and "then" it's always like that, thousand of voices shouting a million of diferent slogans and marching at the same drum to the abyss where there are no books nor arts nor religions nor ideas. Just a mare magnun of malicious mankind mating and murdering more mankind per secula seculorum, amen.

We are like cockroaches, ain't we? Not the regular kind, but the kafkiesque one living in our small rooms... sorry for speaking for all, I am so sorry! I have been such... such... such a fool, ain't I? Why does this foolish child dares to wear the smarty pants of his father and grandfather and great-grandfather whom where self-made men... I am just a spoiled child with an artistic hobby to not live his own life, since he is socially awkward and people in really life doesn't like him, except his relatives since they are meant to like everyone in the family that is not a complete shame and I haven't made anything that makes me a shame, I don't do anything... just read and write and watch old movies nobody cares about... Kind Hearts and Coronets is a good one, there aren't actors like him today... it's a deprorable world, are you there little blue world?

Could be that I am autistic... once told me that I may be autistic but was refuted by another doctor who told me I was too mature by my age. No way, José! why you write, José? to not feel lonely? are you lonely? am I lonely? can you feel the void?

Why bother?
 

nerds

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oh, max.


:Hug2:


I've been in the pits of true despair myself lately. I keep writing, keep hoping SOMEBODY will give a rat's ass about what I have to say someday, but it might well never happen. But I don't have a lot of time left in front of me either, I'm not getting any younger. And I literally have no idea what my life will be like over the next several months, since surviving has become near-impossible.

You're so young, and you've got such a good mind. Don't give up now, for God's sake. Your posts are always so interesting to me, you really add something to things here. I don't know what you like to write but if you wrote non-fiction narrative about how life is in your country I would buy and read it.

Whatever it is that you write, writers can't give up. I still am compelled to do it, and I am damned if I know why. It's just in us.

xoxoxox


:Hug2:


p.s. I WOKE UP crying this morning, so, you are not alone my friend. You are NOT alone. We are here.
 
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soleary

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Keep writing, and find a therapist who you can share your feelings with as well. I'm not an expert, but it sounds like depression. It's best to find a professional who can help you deal with the very personal rejections we all face. I have been in therapy before, and it is a lifesaver. Good luck!
 

Shweta

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:Hug2: Max.
I know the feeling, and damn, it's hard.

But seriously, you've got something. It's worth working on. And maybe it'll take a few years -- but it's worth that, right? You have cool and strange ideas and I think you really do have something unique to bring to your readers.

So. Hang in there, dear.
 

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Last night I cried before going to sleep... I am just feeling despair and anger and I don't know why specifically. It's like, a feeling of impotence and frustration and the feeling I am slowly getting consumed by a feeling of undirected hate and I don't know what I hate...

"sighs" why to bother? Why to delude myself writing? it leads nothing, just to delusion and chimeras of worlds that does not exist outside of my head to poorly copy them on paper just to get it rejected and then, if is God's will, to get it published and got it read it by no one. With that, is better to try to win the lotery that pretending success can be made and finish in some crappy high school teaching literature, a wife that doesn't love me and using saturday nights to write two paragraphs of a never ending delusion...

I think that's why fantasy is so popular now, people just don't want to live in this world, in this reality, never compromise. not even in the face of armaggedon, the darn global village took off our sense of wonder and community. "we" and "then" it's always like that, thousand of voices shouting a million of diferent slogans and marching at the same drum to the abyss where there are no books nor arts nor religions nor ideas. Just a mare magnun of malicious mankind mating and murdering more mankind per secula seculorum, amen.

We are like cockroaches, ain't we? Not the regular kind, but the kafkiesque one living in our small rooms... sorry for speaking for all, I am so sorry! I have been such... such... such a fool, ain't I? Why does this foolish child dares to wear the smarty pants of his father and grandfather and great-grandfather whom where self-made men... I am just a spoiled child with an artistic hobby to not live his own life, since he is socially awkward and people in really life doesn't like him, except his relatives since they are meant to like everyone in the family that is not a complete shame and I haven't made anything that makes me a shame, I don't do anything... just read and write and watch old movies nobody cares about... Kind Hearts and Coronets is a good one, there aren't actors like him today... it's a deprorable world, are you there little blue world?

Could be that I am autistic... once told me that I may be autistic but was refuted by another doctor who told me I was too mature by my age. No way, José! why you write, José? to not feel lonely? are you lonely? am I lonely? can you feel the void?

Why bother?

I know exactly where you're coming from and I feel for you. Writing can really get inside you and mess you up, it's no wonder many go slightly mad. You know I think your ideas are good and other people here do to!

Stick with the writing, there's magic in this stuff. :)
 

Mandy-Jane

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I will complete a play this year! I will!
Like so many others, I've felt this way too, on occasion. And just like all the advice already given, I'll just say keep at it. You know you've got it in you. :Hug2:
 

maxmordon

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My apologies for you to have seen that... is that yesterday was a bad day and today I still feel the repercustions of it... it's not just writing, it's like my life itself...
 

nerds

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My apologies for you to have seen that... is that yesterday was a bad day and today I still feel the repercustions of it... it's not just writing, it's like my life itself...


We understand.

Do not apologize. I'm glad you felt you could come here to talk about it.
 

Clair Dickson

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For me at least, it's very rare that one part of my life falls apart indenpendently-- rather when one part is crashing down, everything else goes with it.

If you enjoy writing, it's not futile. It may, at times, be no more productive than watching TV, but there's nothing wrong with watching TV just for enjoyment. At times, however, writing has the possibility to be so much more.

Hang in there. Find something that you can take even a little comfort in. Consider therapy, either professionally or maybe you just need someone you can wholly and totally open up to.

We've been there, and we're here for you. Depressesed or otherwise.
 

akiwiguy

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Max, no one can know specifics of your life nor the possibility of depression etc, but in terms of your angst, that sense of futility, unfortunately I think it's a place we almost have to go to at some point, most likely more than once.

There is an inevitable solitude, worse a loneliness, in the pursuit of our craft, and that is I think the place that we question our own values, embrace them again and find renewed strength. There is no one else, nor I think even any quantifiable measure of success, that can give us that sense of belief. We can only find it in ourselves. I think it takes real courage.

It may not be a bad thing that you are questioning these things at a young age. Better than to later regret that we had not always expressed what was really important to us. Smile.

Some of us wile away the hours adding our daft comments to "caption this" threads, others such as yourself add input that is somehow noticeable. It is admirable that you already have that ability.

I quite like this quote by Rainer Maria Rilke.

Believe that with your feelings and your work you are taking part in the greatest
The more strongly you cultivate this belief, the more will reality and the world go forth from it.
 

Cranky

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Max, everyone else has already said what I would have said myself, and more.

So, here's a :Hug2:. We're here for you, and don't apologize. We're here, and we understand. :)
 

Pagey's_Girl

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Many moons ago, when I was a sophomore in high school, our World History teacher asked us one day if we really, truly believed a mere song could change the world. Me being me, I said "yes" while most of the class said "no, of course not." Mr. Gibson considered it for a moment, then said, "You know what? She's right. Because you never know who's going to hear that song. You never know who they are or what they might be capable of doing, if they only have the right inspiration. It's the same with a book, or a poem, or a movie or anything. You never know who's out there listening. All it takes is one person."

Even if we don't change the entire world with our words, we can change one corner of it. Even if we only make one person laugh, or cry, or stop and think about something they've never thought about before. Because who knows what that one person could do from there?

That "little" world inside your head could turn out to be something bigger than all of us. It could be what changes everything. You never know...
 

Round John Virgin

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Max - About four decades ago, when Kris Kristofferson was a starving Nashville newbie working as a janitor at Columbia Studios, he wrote a song called "To Beat the Devil." It ended:

I was born a lonely singer and I'm bound to die the same,
But I've got to feed the hunger in my soul;
And if I never have a nickel I won't ever die of shame,
'Cause I don't believe that no-one wants to know.

I can't guess the number of times I've listened to or thought about those lyrics as I've contemplated my own writing struggles. More than a few. While I wish I had some combination of Kristofferson's talent and ultimate luck, I will settle for his grit and determination. Every now and then when I feel ready to give up, I let "To Beat the Devil" help me remember why I probably shouldn't.

Good luck to you! Good luck to all of us!
 

Williebee

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Only one thing for it, Max. Go do something nice for somebody else, preferably a total stranger.

Call it changing your kharma, or just changing your point of view.

You'll feel better about yourself and your situation. Promise.
 

JoNightshade

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Hugs for max!!! :Hug2: :Hug2: :Hug2:

Don't worry, buddy - this too shall pass. If I could count the number of times I've felt like this (particularly as a teenager), I would have way too many fingers. No worries, it's always the socially awkward weirdos who turn into the best adults. :D

Good news: if you can write like you did in that post, you got something going. :)

On the other hand, don't let writing be your reason for existing. I had to learn this myself. For so long, I clung to my writing as if that would be the thing that made my life worthwhile. Thing is, nothing you DO can truly validate your life, because those things can be taken away. It's who you ARE that matters. You could be a total flop of a writer, and you'd still be the same kind, caring individual you are. And that would be enough!
 

TrainofThought

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Last night I cried before going to sleep... I am just feeling despair and anger and I don't know why specifically. It's like, a feeling of impotence and frustration and the feeling I am slowly getting consumed by a feeling of undirected hate and I don't know what I hate...

"sighs" why to bother? Why to delude myself writing? it leads nothing, just to delusion and chimeras of worlds that does not exist outside of my head to poorly copy them on paper just to get it rejected and then, if is God's will, to get it published and got it read it by no one. With that, is better to try to win the lotery that pretending success can be made and finish in some crappy high school teaching literature, a wife that doesn't love me and using saturday nights to write two paragraphs of a never ending delusion...

We are like cockroaches, ain't we? Not the regular kind, but the kafkiesque one living in our small rooms... sorry for speaking for all, I am so sorry! I have been such... such... such a fool, ain't I? Why does this foolish child dares to wear the smarty pants of his father and grandfather and great-grandfather whom where self-made men... I am just a spoiled child with an artistic hobby to not live his own life, since he is socially awkward and people in really life doesn't like him, except his relatives since they are meant to like everyone in the family that is not a complete shame and I haven't made anything that makes me a shame, I don't do anything... just read and write and watch old movies nobody cares about... Kind Hearts and Coronets is a good one, there aren't actors like him today... it's a deprorable world, are you there little blue world?

Could be that I am autistic... once told me that I may be autistic but was refuted by another doctor who told me I was too mature by my age. No way, José! why you write, José? to not feel lonely? are you lonely? am I lonely? can you feel the void?

Why bother?
Aw, Max. I cried when I turned 30, 40. GAH! *nudges him* Seriously, we all go through these moments, Max. Hell, I find myself sometimes crying while watching the Brady Bunch. It ain't right. It happens, and the feeling of not knowing why makes it more upsetting. Sometimes, it doesn't matter how many people we have around us, or how good our life is going, because every now and then that lonely self of ours taps us on the shoulder, we move over and s/he stays awhile.

My apologies for you to have seen that... is that yesterday was a bad day and today I still feel the repercustions of it... it's not just writing, it's like my life itself...
I know. You can PM people here if you need to talk, Max. You're done with H.S., I'm proud of you, and have so much to offer. This could be overwhelming. I wish you the best, Max, and if I keep typing I'm going to start to cry.
 

rhymegirl

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I've always said that as writers, I think we're all especially sensitive people. I can't help but be affected by what goes on in the world just as I'm very affected by the hardships, worries and emotional woes of people I know.

Just know that many people experience the same thoughts and concerns that you do. If you get really down, try to find a mental health counselor to talk to. This is a very smart and helpful thing to do. I go for personal and professional counseling about once a month. One of the things she advised me to do was to keep a journal. It helps to write down your thoughts and feelings.

It also helps to have friends who care. You have lots of friends here.
:Hug2: :Hug2:
 

HeronW

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Max,

the world falls down on all of us. We worry about everything and nothing, about our partner's health, how our parents are doing, why don't friends call, why do I feel like crap every morning getting up and lying down, what's the use--but there are those who need me, who love me, often not the same people. There are old friends who would love to get a quick tel call or even a note, 'Thinking of You'. There's new friends made in places like this who have gone though similar sh*t.

Knowing someone has it the same or worse, doesn't stop the hurt, but they do know the frustration, the loneliness, the grr I want to punch the wall with my head until both break.

So what do we do? We write, even if no one reads, we write. We talk about our writing to those who will listen--and that --WHO WILL LISTEN is very important. Many times those folks aren't family, they aren't the folks we grew up with, they're companions halfway across the world, hoping you'll listen too.

If it's depression, it can be helped. Rule out physical causes of the body, do your health good by eating right, getting enough sleep, filling your own time--that away from work/school--with things you enjoy that feed that writer, that scribbler, that person who would take a stone and mark on cave walls to tell their story.

Talk to someone who cares. The healing will hapen.
 

Honalo

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It sounds as though it's life in general that's getting to you - not just the writing.

I don't mean to sound all astrological, recognizing that there are many who poo poo astrology, but we are in eclipse time and eclipses send out powerful vibes - not to mention a full moon this Saturday. Things - emotions, personal issues - have a tendency to reach critical mass around these periods (I dabble in astrology - it takes my mind away from my highly technical day job).

"This too shall pass" sounds simplistic when one's dealing with a rough road ahead - but I've learned from my funks that it really does get easier. The big thing I've learned from bouts with depression: don't listen to those why try and suggest things that you should be doing to feel better - that you might be unable to do these so-called mood-bolstering activities will make you feel worse.

Bunker down in the understanding that the world is full of changes, twists and possibilities - and it really will pass.

In the meantime, keep posting when you feel down because we're all your friends.
 

James81

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Your life is what you make of it, brother.

Not all of us were born with equal gifts, but we can make up for that with greater spirits. But when your spirit is pushed down and beaten down (by yourself and in a small part by the society that condemns someone like you) all your life, it's hard to recognize our gifts and what we can truly do with them if we just revived our spirits, picked ourselves up off of rock bottom, and clawed our way back to happiness.

My reading suggestion for someone in your position is:

"The Tao of Inner Peace" by Diane Dreher

You need inside work, brother. You need inner peace. When you find that, all the other things that are crashing down around you will come together.
 

Unique

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*heavey sigh* Aw, Max. Don't let the world get you down, brother.

"I think that's why fantasy is so popular now, people just don't want to live in this world, in this reality."

My son and I had a conversation about drugs the other day. He wanted to know why people took them. I told him, 'Son, they aren't pleased with their reality and they're trying to change it.'

When people feel powerless and it goes on and on ....
When they see things how they could be, how they should be but aren't -

Well - it has a tendency to make them a little testy.
Or postal.
Or depressed.
Depending.

(((hugs)))