Depression, confusion, dissatisfaction, forgetfulness, frustration, feeling off, indifferent, distant...these describe many emotions common to my days.
I am a long-time videogame player. I remember that something changed around that transition period between 12 and 14 years of age. I recall a distinct feeling of cloudyness in my mind, a lack of thought and planning and motivation, an inability to focus my mind and attention and concentrate on the subject matter at hand. It was probably the first time I can remember having a distinct awareness of such a thing...although, when I was much younger, I used to become frustrated with school projects like writing compositions. I used to get mental blocks and feel like I wasn't getting anywhere, and I would give up, crying, until my parents consoled me adequately and helped show me that I could actually put things together adequately myself.
Back to 12-14 years of age...I was wasting time on videogames, and there was a particular game. I was one of a small number of people who played it (or thought I did) on a level above most others. There were quirks and tricks to the game, and experienced players could learn them. There were also planning and prediction to the game, as well as timing. These were the things that I started noticing were "blacking out" spontaneously. Suddenly, I started having these hours or days where I couldn't really plan and predict and time things right, and I noticed that I had horrible luck during those times. I lost often then...But then there were times when my mind felt clearer, and I timed things right, planned and predicted correctly much more often (not perfectly, but nobody's perfect they say), and I won more then. At first, the mentally cloudy times were less frequent than the clear times, but clouds gradually came in and took up more and more of the time...until I was left with a few days of clarity only every few weeks, and then every few months, and then sometimes a year or longer would go by before I felt that clarity...and then only for a part of a day.
I have felt guilt about wasting all of that time playing videogames. I tried not to think about it...I kept myself distracted by playing more videogames. Just like alcohol, drugs, etc., for other people. An endless pit, bottomless, until I run out of time. After all, what are we alive for? Why does anyone have any drive to do anything? What drives people to try to reach goals when life is gone in the blink of an eye? I have lived a few decades now and have experienced the motion of time - it goes too fast for beings that only live 60-100 years. All the people I care about most are older than me and will likely die before me. That is a very sad feeling I cannot get over. I get more consolation from hoping that I die early so I can avoid the pain, because I am not strong enough to deal with it.
I have had a few breakdowns before. Each time it happens, I feel very innocent and naive again...but positive, if clear and simple-minded. Then, little by little, the clouds of habit and old beliefs and patterns close in again until I am just like I was before, sometimes with one or two changes...the clouds may take months or even years to form again, but they always do.
For three years, after one such occasion that was strikingly similar to a breakdown (minus all the crying), I stopped playing videogames. I didn't miss them much for the first year, but I would have dreams about playing them. Those dreams became more frequent. Most of the dreams would be about old frustrations at my always being outsmarted and outplayed because others were faster, better multitaskers, smarter, etc...which tells about my greatest personal frustration: I always wanted to be extremely intelligent, because I believe that intelligence can open up more doors and make more things possible. Intelligence is the key to do anything "humanly possible." That's what I thought, and a big part of me still thinks that. If I were intelligent, I could do anything I wanted to, anything I set my mind to. That was freedom for me. And I wanted freedom.
All I really want is freedom. I don't like boundaries. Life is a fluid experience, but with many boundaries self-imposed and culturally-imposed and socially-imposed. Time is one of those boundaries: you must be on time for your job, you must do etc etc within a specific timeframe, etc. etc. Fluid with boundaries...doesn't make sense. Boundaries generate stress for me, and I don't like stress.
I remember when I first got interested in photography - I didn't know the boundaries and limits. I didn't want to learn as much as I could, I just was interested and did learn. I learned because I was interested. When I started taking photos and getting paid for it, that was a whole new door. For years, it didn't seem so much like a job. Just something I got paid to do that I enjoyed. Then, gradually, it started to seem more and more like work. The more I learned, the more I saw...boundaries, limitations, those things that infinitely frustrate me. I try to ignore them, but always it comes back to that. Now, my photographic eye is built around trying to avoid flaws and work within certain all the boundaries...but what is worse, I forgot or can't seem to recall most of the details of composition that I had taught myself through reading and observation. I never learned a great many of them, but I learned some and they were generally helpful. Now, I find myself groping in the dark as if I don't know what I'm doing again. It's frustrating.
And my other job, which I just got...it was never something I was looking forward to doing as a career, it was a financially-motivated decision.
I do wonder if choosing paths for life that I am not satisfied with or don't really like (or feel guilty about) do lead partly to that mental cloudiness that I feel so often. Yet, if I leave the videogames, all I do is wish I was playing them. Unless I engross myself in something else - which isn't always possible. If I can manage to become absorbed in some other subject, then perhaps I can get interested in it - but then it excludes everything else, and I lose interest in other things. And, whatever that interest may be, it fades and then I can't seem to be interested enough anymore to absorb new info on the subject.
All very frustrating, the boundaries of my mind...today I go to my photography job again, trying to think of fresh ideas but feeling the limitations of focal lengths (distortion or not enough environment in the frame), physical height (not tall enough), lighting (need to hire an assistant), and of course knowledge (don't really understand properly about posing people, drawing the eye, etc.).
What is my right path? Would I feel any better if I wasn't following the wrong path? How do I know if the path is wrong or right? What do I really want to do?
I wonder if a completely free person lacks interest in doing anything - maybe only when a person is stressed do they feel compelled to do anything besides standing still. The things I have done instead of avoided are the things I least regretted, even if those things were stressful. However, I base this lack of regret mostly on the overall positive emotional impact it had on others I care about, which was my primary positive feedback.
I don't ponder the meaning of life so much as the reason to bother doing anything during the short time I have here.
The nature of humankind to inherently be good is probably not true...the nature of any human to desire to feel at peace with oneself may be more true. Assuming peace with oneself comes from a sense of doing the right thing, it's important to note that the "right thing" for that one person may not be right or good or beneficial for everyone impacted by that person's "right-thing" decision or action. It's a completely self-centered goal of personal gratification, and any impact on the lives of others is simply collateral.
Is the newness of things the reason for a perpetuation of that interested feeling? Is this why people have those phases of "love" and enjoying a new hobby, buying a new accessory, etc.? Do we have to have new and different experiences to maintain the feeling of living and enthusiasm and enjoyment? When we stop doing new things, do we feel dulled? Is this true for just one person, more than one, or everyone? I know that many people feel more comfortable when they feel in control of things, and some people enjoy having established routines...but these are not always the same people, and not everyone seems to enjoy routine. Maybe I do not enjoy routine so much...but perhaps those who enjoy the routine are more at peace with that path in life. Maybe they found a path that is right for them, or at least enough so that they can continue living without much issue. There are degrees to dissatisfaction too, and different degrees of straying from one's "right path" can probably have different degrees of psychological impact. Some may be more livable than others.
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