The Pity Party


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There are times where my depression can hit hard and come up from (seemingly) nowhere. I know there are things I do not entirely grasp which cause it to come about at times, but I do not yet know what it is (diet, perhaps?). Not knowing the cause has not been the primary issue of how I treat these surprise bouts of melancholy. What has been a very backwards and, frankly, embarrassing concern is how very welcoming I am towards it. Perhaps I personify it, deep down, and treat it like an old friend who knocks on the door unannounced? Maybe I just don’t know how to handle its arrival in any other way? Or maybe I want to be swallowed up by it, to be sunk back into my grief, so that I can use it as a tool for some kind of arbitrary social entertainment?

Of the three, it is shameful that I know it is the last option. If I were to personify my sadness and treat it like a person, at least I could label that as a coping mechanism or as some type of insanity. If I didn’t know how to fight it off, at least I would have the opportunity to learn how to do so.  However, I do have other means to cope, I am not crazy, and I do have the will to fight it. I have prevented myself from getting caught by the sadness before, usually by distracting myself with work, exercising, finding time to spend with a friend, etc. These are actions that are almost always at my disposal, so it seems absurd to just let myself become depressed, doesn’t it?

When I find myself in this state, where my body has the capacity to do what I ought to be doing for the sake of my health, but my mind urges me towards the bed, I know that I can find a way out of it. So why don’t I? Simply put, I want a pity party. I want a reminder that people will acknowledge the problem that I have, will send me their love, will empathize and show concern, will appreciate me and recognize my vulnerability. It feels nice, it is a reassurance that I have people who care about me, and it is something that I have craved throughout my life.

As a child, I remember getting sick, injured, or heartbroken (in the way a child gets heartbroken, when a video game isn’t released or when they drop their candy in the mud), and receiving a sort of consolation for it all. Whether from my family, friends, or teachers, I got a certain amount of love sent my way. I hurt, they loved, and I felt better. That is how it should work, right?

The problem arises from the fact that I enjoy feeling their sympathy more than I hate feeling the pain.

I do not remember how many times I have found ways to turn a situation into a one which has me in the role of victim. I always had bad luck, got injured, came down with illness, and in turn always had a gentle embrace from a sympathizer telling me “It is okay! These tragedies are terrible, you are so strong for facing them! You are loved and we will always pick you up!”. I do not doubt that some of them knew when I had serious pain, or when I was simply playing it up.

As I matured, this act was somewhat abandoned. I found more joy in focusing on self-improvement rather than in having people tell me good things about me. I feel that I am more capable alone in dealing with some of my everyday problems and I no longer require the love from sympathy. However, my depression cannot be easily dealt with alone. I need the support for that, I find myself in very dire situations without the help. Not only that, but my new joy gained from self-improvement is halted completely by the sadness, as it throws me in bed and tears apart the progress and productivity I make. In order to escape it, I need help, and this usually comes in the form of medicine, therapy, or friends. I am thankful for all of it, but it has drawbacks. When I lose the joy I gain from my self-improvement, where my accomplishments in work or school no longer seem to matter at all, I easily return to the unhealthy love of pity. I get the urge, once again, to say “Woe is me! How the world has struck me down! What unfairness, what tragedy!” and let the pity party commence.

A surprise moment of sadness usually comes around shortly, maybe just for a day, but even for such a short duration, I still find myself letting it sink its teeth deep in me! Why do I want the pity party so bad? It contradicts with everything that I want myself to be, which is independent of a need for validation or the emotional responses of others. I do not want to have to find a joy in the sympathies of others, but I do so anyway!

Maybe I just have to grow out of it.

Michael Paul Nelson on Traditional Ecological Knowledge


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This video, around the 13 minute mark, has speaker Michael Paul Nelson talk of something very unique and important. The personification of nature as a means to get human beings to understand and care for the environment to a greater degree.

Michael Paul Nelson is a professor of environmentally philosophy and ethics at Oregon State University. 

Caffeine, Environmentalism, and Self-Discovery. Rambling.


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I can only hope I don’t sound pretentious, but then again I can’t do much about it.

I write this at 12:42 am. I am cross-legged in my pajamas, my laptop in front of me, on my bed. Outside it is awfully snowy, but the new precipitation has blanketed everything with a pristine white, so instead of midnight, it looks a little closer to evening with a fair amount of light bouncing off the snow. The extra light isn’t keeping me up so late, if it were I would shut the blinds. I made the poor decision of drinking about 4 cups of coffee in order to help me crack down on some work, but I have been instead made jittery for the past 5 hours.

I only just started drinking coffee. When I write this, it has been only 4 days into my experience with the drink, and I already find the reason why so many people require this drink. Like the Amphetamine Salts prescribed to me, I feel invigorated by coffee. It gives me a rush of energy that is very useful, as the first cup I had was after 3 days streak of general lethargy and mild depression, it perked me up within minutes. Unlike my Amphetamine Salts, it is a new thing to my body, with no acclimation built up yet. Lately, the salts have failed to give me the rush they used to. It was like a shower inside a pill, for the amount of rejuvenation I got from the pill was equal to that of a hot shower. Having this advantage be dulled down made me turn to coffee for a substitute and it has worked marvelously.

Now I am just a novice in coffee drinking, so I didn’t expect to know how much was too much right away, but tonight I picked a bad night to experiment with my caffeine capacity. Too shaky, too jittery, and now too stressed to even touch my work after the second cup. I should have dumped the whole pot down the drain, but a distaste for wastefulness got the best of me, and I finished the pot. Now, hours later, my heart is still racing, and so is my mind. A little bit of regret, a slight stomach ache, but the lost sleep is my most immediate concern.

The sensation of coffee, similar to that of the amphetamines, and even that of the shower are all things I wish that I could be without. I am unfortunate to have some negative opinion on the substances mentioned. Coffee, showers, Adderall, sugar, wine, or any other material thing that puts me in a potentially advantageous condition (wine requires a lot of care) is in conflict with the fact that I wish for a lifestyle that is divorced from sensational things.

It is not the case that I want to be a pure ascetic, going out of my way to deny myself of pleasure and other such things. It is more so that I want to have the capacity to function without the crutch of a material object. Of course, I will always need the materials of food and water, but I want to be as minimalistic as possible. To have the things that I need, and if my luxuries were to be ever taken away from me or become unsustainable, to be unaffected by the change. This works not only as a safety net in case I would have to live “below my means”, but also as general good practice for understanding myself. This is rooted in several ideas, but there are two important bases to which a lot of my thought on this is derived from. The first being environmental, the second being personal.

It is an environmental idea in that I am aware of my surroundings and the items I consume. With resources on this planet being finite, it is most important to put oneself in perspective of the whole. When I look around me, I see a number of things people use and know it cannot last. The plastic is too much, the electricity is excessive as well, and the water will soon be too little. Conservative action towards the environment is imperative if we wish to maintain our lives (but not our livelihoods, which are unsustainable). So, while I may consume just a fraction less than some others, I am doing it in practice of the principle. Few people in the modern world will deny the fact that if everyone lived a lifestyle identical to their own, with daily commutes, trips to McDonalds and Starbucks, 30-minute showers, an excessive use of air fresheners, and an abhorrent amount of water wasted at their local waterparks, the planet would certainly be squeezed dry of its potential within their lifetime. However, despite this knowledge, they ignore it, for the comforts are too great. This may be because of a misplaced understanding of their position in nature, where most people (on a somewhat unconscious level) do not consider themselves part of nature.

The personal reason is almost spiritual. For a person to understand themselves, it should be deemed necessary that they deny the material things around them (for at least a little while, though once letting go they may realize that they are just as comfortable without their gluttony at play). If someone wants to understand themselves on a deeper level than what they like, how they look, or how they feel, it becomes very beneficial for them to cast off the excessive things in their life. When abandoning the things they are attached to, someone may find that they have been knowing themselves only in relation to the objects and people around them, and are consequently pushed to self-reflect on who they actually are. For example, I only find myself describing “Samuel” to others by attributing my interests and ideas to aid me in describing “Samuel”. As soon as Samuel casts away his love of movies, spaghetti, and boats, how am I to describe him? It becomes just him and nature, for that is all there is. This is how a journey to self-discovery can begin, by forcing yourself to realize how one is defined. When I cast off coffee and Adderall, I am not bound to define myself by those objects.

This is, of course, just my deeper feelings on the subject. My environmentalism may be in some contact with my spirituality, and my romantic feelings towards self-denial are certainly not shared with everyone, but I think it is important to at least consider this type of action. I can go into more detail on materialism at ends with environmentalism and spirituality at another time, but the point I am trying to get across here is that I truly wish I didn’t feel the need to drink coffee or take Adderall. They help me so much that it is a crutch, but I have no broken legs (just sprained ankles). Perhaps in the future, my body will allow me to abandon more of the things that keep me from living a more simplistic lifestyle. In the meantime, I will have to at the very least try to use it in moderation, for the sake of saving resources and saving myself from its influence.