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Horror Vacui.
Posted by
Tymothi
,
20 May 2012
·
262 views
As it relates to depression. Possible triggers to follow, so don't read this. Stay away!
It was this morning that I realized something. Our depression is often supported by choices we make. Now, I've made some ugly choices in my life. A lot of choices made didn't feel like choices at the time - but they were. All of them. One such choice was the allowance to enjoy - really love - some seriously disturbing audio products, created by guitars and drums and screaming voices and marketed as something called "music". Now, granted, I didn't love it for long, but traces of it remain to this day. And it wasn't until this morning that I realized where its place is.
I'll hint, but not divulge.
Yoga. Tantra.
But also, lovelessness. And solo. Ages 17-30, loveless, solo, self-contained. And cyclical.
~horror vacui~
Then, I learned.
Yoga. Tantra. Love.
Something else remaining after the H.V. Not solo, not self-contained. The H.V. recedes to the place where it's supposed to be - an inherent psychological residue of something deep and dark and ultra-universal. But inside, and separate from active cognition - not a creature that draws focus, when love is attained and something else is produced and shared, something that dispels that sense of absence, loss. It's amazing, to think that feeling it for so long convinced me to embrace it - and thus, expand its influence, its empire. 17-30. That's all of college and the whole beginnings of real life, embracing the horror throughout, more and more, until it started to poison my spirit. Add to that the depression from age 12+, and you've got a hot cocktail of danger...
And you know what? The fact that I still, every now and then, go swimming with my old buddies Shadows Fall and Dying Fetus, doesn't scare me, nor does it seem like a hypocrisy anymore, because I realized that the H.V. is an inherent and present facet of human psychology (a sign of... maturity? *GASP!*), and if anything, it makes me a more complete, more whole person to understand it and still allow myself to feel it when it is there. Like grieving, or feeling anger when it is appropriate, or even important, to do so. You can't suppress it all.
But you can balance it. Ravi. Ravi. Ravi. Heh. Yeah.
Amazing. I was just reinforcing that despair. All that time, all those years, I thought I was getting a thrill out of it - and I was - but those thrills came with a curse. So to speak.
Sigh. I hope I can remember these things in case I have to live without my Great Healer someday. Or even for the Bloomington-esque, backpacking times when I am separated from the Healer.
Blast, I should be writing this down.
Oh, wait. I am.
<3
P.S. Sorry if I offended. If you get it, maybe it'll help. I'm a big believer in Truth. Besides, I told you not to read it. :P
It was this morning that I realized something. Our depression is often supported by choices we make. Now, I've made some ugly choices in my life. A lot of choices made didn't feel like choices at the time - but they were. All of them. One such choice was the allowance to enjoy - really love - some seriously disturbing audio products, created by guitars and drums and screaming voices and marketed as something called "music". Now, granted, I didn't love it for long, but traces of it remain to this day. And it wasn't until this morning that I realized where its place is.
I'll hint, but not divulge.
Yoga. Tantra.
But also, lovelessness. And solo. Ages 17-30, loveless, solo, self-contained. And cyclical.
~horror vacui~
Then, I learned.
Yoga. Tantra. Love.
Something else remaining after the H.V. Not solo, not self-contained. The H.V. recedes to the place where it's supposed to be - an inherent psychological residue of something deep and dark and ultra-universal. But inside, and separate from active cognition - not a creature that draws focus, when love is attained and something else is produced and shared, something that dispels that sense of absence, loss. It's amazing, to think that feeling it for so long convinced me to embrace it - and thus, expand its influence, its empire. 17-30. That's all of college and the whole beginnings of real life, embracing the horror throughout, more and more, until it started to poison my spirit. Add to that the depression from age 12+, and you've got a hot cocktail of danger...
And you know what? The fact that I still, every now and then, go swimming with my old buddies Shadows Fall and Dying Fetus, doesn't scare me, nor does it seem like a hypocrisy anymore, because I realized that the H.V. is an inherent and present facet of human psychology (a sign of... maturity? *GASP!*), and if anything, it makes me a more complete, more whole person to understand it and still allow myself to feel it when it is there. Like grieving, or feeling anger when it is appropriate, or even important, to do so. You can't suppress it all.
But you can balance it. Ravi. Ravi. Ravi. Heh. Yeah.
Amazing. I was just reinforcing that despair. All that time, all those years, I thought I was getting a thrill out of it - and I was - but those thrills came with a curse. So to speak.
Sigh. I hope I can remember these things in case I have to live without my Great Healer someday. Or even for the Bloomington-esque, backpacking times when I am separated from the Healer.
Blast, I should be writing this down.
Oh, wait. I am.
<3
P.S. Sorry if I offended. If you get it, maybe it'll help. I'm a big believer in Truth. Besides, I told you not to read it. :P
- Tymothi likes this
