Day 4, Thursday
Nothing, just nothing. Try playing new music. Nothing. Try playing familiar music. Nothing. Try playing The Man Who Sold The World. Nothing. Feel betrayed. Thought this could be a gigantic postmodernist publicity stunt. It is the fourth day. It is the fourth day.
People are getting upset about the people getting upset about the people getting upset about the death of David Bowie. I guess that is their right, but right now I wish I could be feeling all that. Today seems supremely pointless. Would go back to bed, but I am supposed to be putting together a presentation for a job interview. That probably means I will stare at my ‘social’ feed on Facebook for six hours until it is time to pick up the kids. Wonder how many Diazepam tablets I can take without anyone noticing. Everyone else seems to take comfort from their communal loss. As I have already explained it is not that simple. Also, I do not think this is about David. (Is it? Is this one of the triggers?) This, as ever, is about me.
Is this the depression stage? Great. I guess. That means I am on stage four. What if the depression lasts for years and years? What if the depression was already there?
What if you never come down?