I hate to change the subject, so I won't. Depression, wasn't it? We've taken a look at it over the past few days, and discovered it's well-nigh universal, seemingly a fact of human life, or at least of writerly human life. It takes us all down different paths through the same shadowy forest. It comes and goes. It's reliable, if not exactly predictable. All well and good.
But we seem to have taken it for granted that there's nothing to be done about it, nothing much good. Waiting it out--a non-answer--looks like the best answer. The pills make us someone we hardly recognize and don't particularly enjoy, the shocks make us forget too much, or make us unsure what, if anything, we are forgetting. The talking cure just yammers on and on. The remedies are as bad as the disease.
So how do we cope with it? All of us have strategems, I'm sure. If you've found a way to snap yourself out of it, even temporarily, please share.
The one thing I've found that always helps me is a large jolt of adrenaline. Hate to be crass, but getting the living crap scared out of you does wonders for depression. It works. I hate the way it feels, but as the stimulation clears, the depression does too. Immediately the minutes cease to be a burden, and reveal themselves to be the precious, irreplaceable, one-time-only gifts they actually are. - JTA