It Stays

My Father struggled with depression in my early childhood. Some days he would sit in his closet, play video games and drink all day. He was not neglectful, nor was he particularly absent. He was burdened. What he bore, I know now, was an emptiness. I know it very well. I see it in him, as I see it in my brothers and myself. It is a kind of emptiness that is ineffable. Not for its depth or profundity, but for its enigma. See, it is not an empty emptiness. It grows and wanes, it yells and whispers, it is intemperate and disobedient. And so it is misleading because you assume it must be filled. You think it might be remedied, only if you can fill it; but it is not an empty emptiness. It is alive and it is exceedingly full. Full of regret, remorse, dread, insufferable knowledge, deadly intentions, all shrouded in a darkness so pitch that you lose the ability to discern between any one artifact and upon investigation, it collapses into a cold darkness filled with everything you wish you could grasp, yet is unbearable to witness.

I used to think we depressed my father. That he hated having children, in a selfish kind of way. I suspect now it was something entirely different. He did the thing that ostensibly brings the most meaning, he had a family, he had a children. But emptiness stayed and then he knew… he knew that there was no remedy for the longing darkness that sat impatiently within the deepest recesses of his heart. And so what is a man to do but wallow in this revelation? The knowing that irrespective of who loves you, who you love, what you achieve, what you have, who you become, it stays. Whats worse, you are not even secure in the idea of what it is!!

And so he passed it on. I chose love, work and effort. My brother chose hedonism, drugs, and food. My other brother chose entertainment, distraction and sloth. My other brother chose god.Surely we thought this is my remedy!!! Despite our efforts, it persists.