I'm coming to a revalation. When I'm depressed, it's not all about depressed lonely bored like I've been thinking. I think a decent bit of it is afraid. I spent all day yesterday awake, but got almost nothing done because I was so horribly afraid I'd mess it up... even though the small logical part of my brain knew that there was almost no downside to messing it up -- oh no, my code doesn't work, I loose some of the music I've been testing with (which is backed up anyway), or more likely, it doesn't work obviously, or at worst, I loose the tags. You know, the wrong ones I'm attmepting to correct.
No, though, I'm not afraid of the actual consequences of failure. I'm afraid of having to admit to myself that I'm not so good at coding. Not that anybody else consistantly produces code that works the first time either, because I know that isn't true (and now my brain is telling me that yeah, all sorts of people do, but I know that's not true either.)
Oh, haven't brushed yet today; this started running into my head as soon as I opened my eyes, almost, and has been running out of my fingers ever since I opened the page almost as fast as I could physically type it; and that's rather fast.
So, yeah, horribly afirad of failure, even when the consequnces of failure are horribly low. I can't even begin to talk about the things I've lately failed to do because the consequnces of failure seem slightly higher, because of the consequnces of failing to do the telling right. OTOH, I might be right about that.
(I think, BTW, I'll go back to my original plan and only blog about brushing my teeth when I fail to. I'm boring all of you horribly, I'm sure.)
Originally posted on theorbtwo.vox.com