Mientras el agua va llenando la bañera

January 12, 2013

Depresión crónica

Abril 2011- Presente
Esto.

Aaron Swartz

Surely there have been times when you’ve been sad. Perhaps a loved one has abandoned you or a plan has gone horribly awry. Your face falls. Perhaps you cry. You feel worthless. You wonder whether it’s worth going on. Everything you think about seems bleak — the things you’ve done, the things you hope to do, the people around you. You want to lie in bed and keep the lights off. Depressed mood is like that, only it doesn’t come for any reason and it doesn’t go for any either. Go outside and get some fresh air or cuddle with a loved one and you don’t feel any better, only more upset at being unable to feel the joy that everyone else seems to feel. Everything gets colored by the sadness.

At best, you tell yourself that your thinking is irrational, that it is simply a mood disorder, that you should get on with your life. But sometimes that is worse. You feel as if streaks of pain are running through your head, you thrash your body, you search for some escape but find none. And this is one of the more moderate forms. As George Scialabba put it, “acute depression does not feel like falling ill, it feels like being tortured … the pain is not localized; it runs along every nerve, an unconsuming fire. … Even though one knows better, one cannot believe that it will ever end, or that anyone else has ever felt anything like it.”

The economist Richard Layard, after advocating that the goal of public policy should be to maximize happiness, set out to learn what the greatest impediment to happiness was today. His conclusion: depression. Depression causes nearly half of all disability, it affects one in six, and explains more current unhappiness than poverty. And (important for public policy) Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy has a short-term success rate of 50%. Sadly, depression (like other mental illnesses, especially addiction) is not seen as “real” enough to deserve the investment and awareness of conditions like breast cancer (1 in 8) or AIDS (1 in 150). And there is, of course, the shame.

So I hope you’ll forgive me for not doing more. And hey, it could be worse. At least I have decent health insurance.

December 29, 2012

Madrugada

Pienso en la comida.
Pienso en la comida todo el tiempo, más por la madrugada.
En el abuelo que contaba su infancia plagada de hambre y analfabetismo.
En la abuela que no para de hablar sobre el trabajo temprano.
En los movimientos espontáneos del estómago.

Una vez viví en India, viajé por doquier, casi siempre de madrugada.
Entonces el guru me preguntó: "Do you go to college? Does it work? Do you now know how to solve poverty? Just tell me. If not, then it doesn´t work". Si no sabes cómo solucionar la pobreza, casi nada sirve.
Y me amarró un listoncito a la mano derecha.
Y sigue aquí, por más que quiero, no se quiebra, no se esfuma, no me deja.

Do you now know how to solve poverty?

Pienso en la comida.
Pienso todo el tiempo en esa pobreza.

December 25, 2012

Farewell

   Entre la Ciudad de México y Washington DC hay cerca de 3034 kilómetros en línea recta.

   Se puede ir:

   En avión, bus, bici.

   As soon as it gets hard,
   remember,
   no estás solo(a)
   todo mejora siempre
   estoy(estás) espera(á)ndo(me).
   En estas palabras ha habido acciones.
   En estas palabras hay más que promesas.

   Se puede ir:
   En marzo, mayo, junio, diciembre.

December 15, 2012

Declaración de principios

(Nunca le escribí algún poema a este novio que ahora tengo.
Lo importante se dice bajito.
Como si fuera tesoro.
Se dice a su oído,
de noche
o temprano
sonriendo
y nada más.
Sin poemas.
Sin fotos.
Sin presunciones.
Entre paréntesis).