From: callahan@biffvm.cs.jhu.edu (Paul Callahan)
Subject: Re: Depression
Organization: Johns Hopkins Computer Science Department, Baltimore, MD
Date: Tue, 15 Dec 1992 14:40:44 GMT

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.

You are right, and I admire you for being able to sympathize with him.  My 
situation is similar to yours in many ways, but maybe I'm just too wrapped up 
in my own complaints to take a twenty-year-old seriously.  If I were twenty
again, with the experience I have now, I might still have a chance to 
improve my situation.

There are certain things you said that I can identify with, such as 
dates that may or may not really be dates.  Also, you alluded to a feeling 
that I've rarely heard others express, even though I've certainly felt it.  
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.  The closest I've ever been
to that sort of thing was when I was 23, and the inexperience was strictly on 
my part.

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.

Well, maybe I *can* explain it a little.  The  point is that at that age, 
all the adults around you are making little smirks and innuendos.  *They*
understand your feelings.  They are continually alluding to all these changes
you are going to go through, as if you are just a little bundle of hormones,
not a thinking human being.  This insulted me.  At that age, I had some
ability to think--no, not nearly as much as I thought I did.  [Writing this,
I finally understand the jarring sensation I felt when reading M.H. Ross's 
comment about the sixteen year old "man-in-the-making."  It's that sort of
expression, in one form or another, that used to get to me.] 

It didn't help that after eighth grade I went to an all-male high school.  At
the time I would have welcomed some females as a moderating influence on the
assholes, but I didn't miss them in the sense of feeling sexual frustration.
This is not to say I was devoid of sexual feeling throughout my adolescence,
but I was not about to take it seriously.  I thought I'd overcome that 
crutch eventually, anyhow.

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.

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.

--
Paul Callahan
callahan@cs.jhu.edu
Newsgroups: alt.angst