WHY AM I SUCH A CUNT?
Am I trying to constantly make excuses for my actions? I get depressed. One of the many aspects of feeling depressed is that you constantly look inward into yourself and always come to the conclusion that you are a massive cunt and don’t deserve to exist. I reckon if everyone did that, then the world would be a better place.
So why do I think I’m such a massive cunt? Is it because I envy just about everyone else’s lifestyle? Is it because I know, in the back of my mind, that Piers Morgan is not really a eunuch? Is it because I am jealous that Avril Lavigne covered Knocking on Heaven’s Door in 2003 with little to no effort and the song was still a hit because it was for charity? Is it because I really want the lead singer from The Drums to be my boyfriend but can’t think of the perfect chat up line and would not have the confidence to do so as I’m a bit bald and fat and he is just fucking perfect? With my looks, I constantly rely on potential lovers to be not as vain as I am. Is it because I am always thinking ‘why am I such a cunt?’ rather than paying attention to my actual, real life and wonderful boyfriend? Is it because my ‘first love’ was for somebody who treated me badly and has subsequently died & I can’t express my anger to him? Is it because evil exists in true form and Simon Cowell just happily puts a face to it?
Is it because my fear of flying stops me from exploring the world that I have a yearning desire to explore? Is it because Neil Hannon once wanted to punch me and all I want to do is cuddle him for being a genius? Is it due to my strange inexplicable phobia of fish that means I can’t gain the satisfaction of ever stroking one? Is it because I am bitter and loathing about anything in culture that is not to my taste and that is the only thing I can ever think of to write about in this blog, rather than some of the few nice positive things in the world that drive and inspire me? Is it because I never seem to get what I want? Is it because I ALWAYS seem to get exactly what I want but don’t appreciate it because it didn’t challenge me? Is it because I can’t stop missing the toilet and keep wee weeing on the bathroom floor and get chastised by my superiors who aren’t troubled with such a massive and uncontrollable penis?
Is it because I know I am going to die? Is it because I hate smoking but can’t seem to kick the habit? Is it because only drinking alcohol fuels me to be creative? Is it because I am too honest? Is it because I know I have lied? Is it because I love Rolf Harris and I’m facing a daunting possibility that I will no longer be able to? Is it because, no matter how hard I work & how much money I make, I am always skint? Is it because I don’t receive blow jobs as many times as I used to? Is it because I feel I wasted the best years of my life by getting palatic drunk, having sex with strangers and not remembering any of it (correction: I didn’t waste that time, did I?) Is it because I spend days on end trying to perfect my musical ideas and attempt to make them sound exactly how I like and then David Bowie comes along and tramples all over my idea of heights of perfection? Is it because I don’t listen? Is it because I play ‘depression Top Trumps’ if anyone actually opens up to me? Is it because I am too self-aware? Is it because I am actually too normal? – there is no such thing as normal. Is it because I’m an individual?
Is it because I keep having to ask myself questions? Is it because nobody really responds to my Facebook posts positively? Is it because I bang on a bit in paragraphs and don’t end an idea when really it should have naturally ended? Is it because I think it is ‘all about me?’ Is it because I think you’ll read this intensively and not just skim over it with your eyes until you find the point?
Yep… that’s what depression sounds like in my head. You may be thinking to yourself that, that’s how everyone feels all of the time and you’d be correct but when those thoughts become so dominant that they disable you from carrying out living your life from day to day that’s when the questions have to stop and the worrying about your own well-being has to begin. If you can imagine a constant fear of impending doom and death and a physical feeling of your heart & soul feeling too heavy to carry as if there is a rock attached to a piece of string hanging from them. If you can foresee your future and you know exactly what you are about to do, knowing the path you are about to take is wrong but feel unable to stop yourself, then that’s the mental disorder that they depressingly call ‘depression’.
I am a manic depressive, also known as Bipolar disorder, which means I have periods of both ‘highs’ and ‘lows’. You may be thinking to yourself that the ‘highs’ must be awesome but they aren’t. I become uncontrollable and unstoppable and often cause more destruction within my life in order to fuel my depressive periods.
So why do I write this now? I ask myself yet again. It is because I have talked in my blog about depression before but never really been able to write at length about it and it’s something I really want to share with you all, as maybe, perhaps, there are some who will read this and realise that there is somebody else in the world who feels the same as they do. The rest of you will just start feeling depressed after reading it. Don’t worry. It’s temporary for you.
By the way, it’s worth mentioning, that at the point of writing this blog I neither feel depressed nor ‘manic’. If I was feeling either, I’d be unable to share these thoughts. Also, if you are one of the few people in my life who are close enough to become concerned that I may be unwell, then you are not actually my friend, ok? My friends and family are all well aware that I’m a ‘mentalist’ and that I wish to speak out to help others through their periods of angst.
So, if there was a cure for it, if I could take a pill and it all would go away, would I? NO! I fucking love it! It’s a part of me and it will hopefully remain with me forever. It needs me as much as I need it. I reckon if everyone in the entire world could look so inwardly into themselves every month or so, asking themselves the question “Why Am I Such A Cunt?” Then the world would be a better place. The mad ideas that run through my brain also fuel my creativity. The studying and reading I do to try to make myself more knowledgeable and less of a cunt also pay off in time. The feeling of constantly challenging myself and testing myself to see how hard I can push before I break means I can achieve more.
I was depressed last week. I had this on replay over and over in my head. I hadn’t seen it recently – on posting, I’m obviously going to watch the video but it was just a memory that played over and over, obsessively in my head. Who would not want that to continue? It’s hilarious!
[To be honest, let’s break away from the text for a moment. Just you and I.]
So, that said… I’m doing a gig at The Telegraph, Newcastle on Saturday 4th May. I’m still promoting The Bowie Experience at World Headquarters in Newcastle for 28th September. My new album, entitled Historical Depictions of the Future will be out in October, I think we are going back to Belfast in the autumn and The Golden Swan and I are working on a new ‘comedy’ podcast. My life is awesome! Thinking that so boldly makes me consider that I maybe a cunt. Oh well, maybe I am. Maybe you are. It doesn’t really matter does it? We are all going to die in the end.
If you have recently thought that I am a cunt, then this song is for you:
If you wish to make Martin ‘happy’ do one of the following:
Follow him on that Twitter: @MusicByMeiosis
Buy tickets for The Bowie Experience at World Headquarters: http://www.musicbymeiosis.com/live.html
Visit his website and indulge yourself in his by-product of depressive thoughts: http://www.musicbymeiosis.com