Melancholy and Infinite Sadness

I watched an episode of a programme called "Intervention" last night which is basically a fly-on-the-wall documentary that follows the utterly depressing anti-lives of various addicts as they plod with the pitiless step of a Greek tragedy down the path of self-destruction. Meanwhile their families and friends rat them out to a TV counsellor and trick them into going to rehab. Correct me if I'm wrong but isn't the first rule of recovery a desire to want to do it for yourself? Not surprisingly there is a high rate of relapse. Look, I don't for a second question the sincerity behind what drives and motivates said friends and relatives but it's still a bit shady. Trust is one of man's most undervalued qualities and these kinds of shenanigans do the cause no good at all.

Anyhow, all this to say that last night's victim was a young lad, not yet 20, who was drinking a gallon of vodka a day. A gallon. 4 Litres. That's insane. Of course they all have a tragic personal back story of loss, abuse and abandonment. Is it any wonder? It's so incredibly sad. This young boy struck a chord with me when he said, "I don't know why I drink so much; I think I'm just naturally melancholy." Smells like teen spirit. In one simple phrase he eloquently transmitted the force that defines the unchanging state of being a teenager - with knobs on in his case. It's an awkward enough stage under normal circumstances, imagine how much worse it is when you've experienced emotional trauma at an early age? This particular lad had been abused by an alcoholic step-parent and his beloved younger brother had then died of cancer at the age of 12. My heart went out to him. But it was his description of the emotional predicament that really spoke to me.

A wistful teen, I thankfully had a pretty happy upbringing and yet my mind generally tended (and it continues to be a defining trait of mine) to go to the dark side. I'm not alone. I have a friend who won't film his young kids because he would find it unbearable to watch should his kids die before him. On cold nights I often can't sleep thinking about homeless people. Images of starving children and helpless mothers in Darfur haunt me in the black of night. These are the things that I think about. I often see life scenes in sepia like that and I really don't know why. I wouldn't change it either as I feel it gives me a certain amount of compassion I might not otherwise have.

A self-confessed manic depressive himself, Stephen Fry once did a documentary on the condition. Interestingly, every sufferer he interviewed said that given the chance to 'switch' the symptoms off forever and erase all memory of past bouts - all but one said they wouldn't change a thing because despite their deep inexplicable pain, it made them who they were. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a manic D, I just have a tendency towards melancholy and infinite sadness, perhaps even a little bit highly strung at times however I'm finally at peace with it and I take comfort in knowing it's possibly one of the most common human tendencies around.