From: wolffrnd@starburst.umd.edu (The Wolf Friend)
Newsgroups: alt.angst
Subject: Re: Depression
Date: 15 Dec 92 18:13:55 GMT


Paul Callahan writes:

>dlightne@magnus.acs.ohio-state.edu (David E Lightner) writes:
>
>>   Well, my point is that I think the troubles of the twenty year old deserve 
>>respect.  They can be quite hard to correct.
>
[comments deleted to save space]

>That is, I feel that even if I finally meet some woman and develop a happy, 
>fulfilling relationship, I'll still never know exactly what it's like to have 
>those sort of awkward, inexperienced, adolescent romances that other 
>people remember fondly and joke about.
>
>Please, nobody tell me that they're not so great anyway, or whatever.  The 
>point is that I'm missing a piece of shared experience, and there's not 
>a *damn* thing I can do about it at my age.

Yes... I know what you mean. :(  Not just from my own experiences but from
talking to others who feel the same way as well, about missing out on 
different things in the past.  Some of which can never be regained... others
of which thankfully can be... it all depends on the situation, one's own
determination, and many other sometimes extraneous factors.

>On the other hand, my development was different from yours.  I am not
>naturally a cold person, but at a certain point in my childhood, perhaps
>at age 11 or 12, I began to invent my own personal form of Stoicism.  Looking
>back, I cannot fathom why, but I just decided that all the standard human 
>passions were not for me.  I was in *control*, and would decide what feelings
>I would and would not have.  I came up with this alone, unaided even by 
>Ms. Rand and her merry band of supermen.

This feeling is one I've been struggling with most of my life.  Only in my
case, it had nothing to do with the onset of adolesence... it happened
earlier, much earlier.  It occurred when I realized that *I* had to maintain
self-control since one of my parents couldn't... when some of my earliest
memories were of realizations that adults (including parents) were sometimes
lying to me, including on some very important issues... when it suddenly
seemed like the best way for a shy child who saw the world differently than
others to at least partially shut out the hostility of those who didn't
understand while retaining some measure of self-respect... when there was
nothing left *to* control but myself and my thoughts.  At least in my case,
inwardly being a very sensitive person who loves to care about others is one
of the main reasons which made me feel that way in the first place.  If I had
been more callous, others' attitudes wouldn't have bothered me so much.  Walls
within walls... many were hidden even from myself at the time.

[insightful descriptions of adult's condescending attitudes toward teenagers 
 and attending boy school's deleted to save space]

>By the time I got to college, it had been too much to take.  I decided to 
>lighten up.  Or rather, I didn't *decide*; I admit that others around me 
>brought me to this stage.  In any case, emotional control seemed futile.  
>Feeling is not the same as denying the intellect.  Both can coexist.  I've 
>been much happier ever since I admitted this, but you can imagine it involved 
>swallowing some pride.  Since then... well, it's a little hard to catch up 
>when you start six years behind.

I feel exactly the same way.  I've come a long way in my own personal 
reconciliation, but still have real difficulty showing strong emotion around 
any except those I really care about and trust.  Especially negative
emotion... showing positive emotion when I feel it is easier, since the
average person doesn't tend to react poorly to that.  Because it's so
engrained, however, I sometimes have to literally remember to show what I'm
feeling, strange as that sounds.

>Maybe this gives you some insight into my background.  I'm sure I'm not alone 
>in this, but I don't recall meeting anyone else with quite the same story
>to tell.  Perhaps they never tell it.

Not quite the same story, no, at least not myself or those I've met.  But if
one excludes the part about boy's school then I've heard one almost identical
story concerning the rest, and have known a variety of other people who could
identify with at least fair-sized parts of it.  Each person's experience is
unique... but still, I've found it really helps to find another who feels
exactly same way and whose experiences are much like one's own... to know for
certain that one is not alone.  I don't mean "alone" in the physical sense but
in the emotional one, knowing that one's own experiences are not unique.
Although being unique can be interesting and rewarding in its own peculiar way
sometimes too... *wry grin*

>--
>Paul Callahan
>callahan@cs.jhu.edu
------------------
Kathleen                                      Wolffriend@Kavishar.umd.edu

     The moon lurked warily in the Earth's shadow, boldly watching the
twinkling city-stars of the larger globe from her protective cover of
darkness.  For a few brief minutes she crouched there, hidden from sight,
seeing but unseen.  Then the Earth shrugged slightly, as if in disdain,  and
turned aside, exposing the moon in her lair.  Bright beams reflected off the
startled moon's surface, like a badger surprised in her hole by the light of
a torch.
     A black wolf watched the whole interchange warily, curious yet subdued.
As the moon slunk guiltily back into the light, the inky depths of the wolf's
eyes mirrored their own replay of the scene.  A light shone within those
fathomless orbs, a spark of hope and courage.  Yet darker still ran a shadow,
a black tear in the very fabric of her being, a jagged knife wound in her
heart.  It eclipsed the soul of the wolf, nearly hiding the spark from view,
even though deep inside that little light still shined just as brightly.  The
wolf whined softly, a quivering treble of notes, and her eyes grew opaque. 
You and I are one, she said silently to the moon.  Her eyes grew slightly
brighter for an instant with hope, sparks dancing about dry kindling.  Then she
howled, and no listener would have been able to tell if it was for despair or
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