Schrodinger's Cat

Hi Mum & Dad

There must come a time in many bloggers' careers when they discover that their parents have been reading. One of my favourite netizens is an American who's spent much of the last year doing her brave but futile part to prevent George W Bush from being elected (for the first time) as president of the USA (for the second time). There was the amusingly awkward moment when her strongly pro-Republican mom turned out to have been reading. Likewise I just got the following email:

Hi David

Since we haven't heard from you since your call when you got back to Wgtn, we guess you are busying yourself around and about.

However, there is one thing you should know. Mum and I have watched you from a distance trying to get a foothold in the world and sort yourself out and anyone with half a blind eye can see that you are in desperate need of help NOW.

Mum has now shut your woes out of her mind - she doesn't want to think about it, hoping it will go away. Keeping your distance when she so desperately cares for you is having an undesirable effect on her and us. Whatever the position, you must have help now. Whatever your plans might have been, they will need to be put on hold for a short while. I want you to come home for a few days - or however long it takes to straighten up. We will get you to a doctor and then try to get some referral for the depression or whatever it is you need treatment for. If it is acute depression it's absolutely essential that you have treatment to kick the black dog in the guts as soon as possible. I've been there and I know what the effect is. If you leave it, you'll end up being in a real mess. That being so I'm not going to sit on the sideline and watch you waste yourself away and give others pain as they see it happen.

Your family loves you desperately, but feel helpless

Love Dad

I presume this comes about as a result of reading Schrodinger's Cat? Well, I did write in my last entry that 'I need help', so I can't complain.

This weblog must be one of the more depressing corners of the net. I occasionally get people praising me for its 'openness' and 'honesty' - what about more people telling me to get a life, or that it's self-indulgent drivel? Much like me the weblog has major shortcomings and an introspective nature. There's a small amount of reflection on the issues of the day, politics, the arts etc but mostly it's a diary. I don't write here to entertain or inform so much as just for the sake of not keeping secrets. What I really want to do is sell albums, as the albums are where my deepest creative energy goes, but I've only made one sale so far as a direct result of this weblog. Just check out the website and email me if you're interested.

But as for this letter from Dad, I guess I can't refuse a summons. I love my parents, I find the tv and radio niggle me a bit when I visit them but the only thing I really dislike is when conversation turns to my 'career'. This invariably becomes a long drawn out and demoralising rigmarole. I'm from a middle class family - my cousins mostly have steady jobs (apart from one who's intellectually handicapped but he’s excused), cars, mortgages, partners, children even, have worked overseas etc. I've got five albums, two more on the way, and a half-sized book, but those don't seem to count. The sales have been negligible after all.

My parents’ advice hasn’t always been helpful – sending me to a boys’ school was a bad move, my education & training in the media has led me mainly to the conclusion that I despise the media industry, and they seemed convinced for a while that I should become an insurance assessor (follow my father’s footsteps) or a policy analyst. But I've been pretty lucky with my parents overall, they're good people who gave me a stable upbringing - no abuse, poverty, alcoholism or any of the other terrible things many people have to cope with. My dad even got his divorce out of the way before I was born, and had his 'second chance' with my mother. The thing that does seem strange in retrospect is that I was raised an only child in New Plymouth, away from my extended family, and then my parents moved away leaving me with no connection to my old hometown (which has had a facelift since Hollywood passed through last year and doesn't look like I remember any more). So that might partly explain my psychology.

There seems to be a tendency for people to define themselves by their oppressors - the patriarchy, the colonists, the capitalists, the intolerant straights etc. I tend to define myself against the popular crowd. I picked that up at school, but have kept on with it maybe beyond the point where it’s useful. A lot of my frustration with the film industry and with my ex-girlfriend (who worked in it for a time and was changed by it) come from this. I don’t want to be cool if it means selling out. I’d rather be an individualist, and represent the underdog. I’m even named after a character in the Bible – a shepherd boy who kills a giant.

So the result of all this rather facile and adolescent sounding idealism is that I end up lonely and frustrated sometimes (not all the time). And too much introspection is stifling my creative ability. So I wouldn’t deny I ‘have issues’ as they say, but I wouldn’t want to exaggerate them either. As far as seeing a doctor goes I’d be happy to talk to a counselor but I’d be deeply reluctant to take anti-depressant drugs. A doctor could be useful if they could get me an extension or resit for shorthand and/or some of my other coursework (I handed in some work that I feel was sub-par). I know I fucked up on the journalism course, I was going fine until September then I fell off the rails. Can I get off by pleading insanity?

Hi Dad, see you on Monday. Love, David

Posted by fiffdimension at November 13, 2004 10:53 PM | TrackBack