Trying to explain things to Wallace is always difficult. I need to remember that he's a
drafter and that all of his thinking is
linear. He's not dull, just directed.
Yesterday I was attempting to describe what depression is like; what it does to me. When I mentioned different feelings- dull, hollow, numb, etc, I could tell I was losing him. When his face pulls together in a pinched way that is as good a sign as any that I am getting too ethereal. So I tried a different tact.
It's environmental, I said, spreading my hands out wide in front of me. It's quiet and invisible, but it's also corrosive and insistent. It covers everything, both the things I can touch and the things I wonder about, everything around me. My whole environment (emphasizing the last word, in an effort to be ultra clear)
His eyes widened and he smiled, "Like Acid rain, "
exactly, I said,
both of us happy I had made the point clear. Then his shoulders sagged and he looked at his shoelaces. Then silence, as he bit his lip.
"That must really suck," he murmured, looking a little embarrassed for being joyful seconds before.
Its ok, it's not your fault. I offered, but he didn't return my gaze, as he continued, "Yeah, but it's your life."