Fuck Depression.

There’s a perpetual feeling of disembodiment. At night I’ll sit in front of the keyboard and a screen that’s so white in its blankness as to be blinding, and I’m overcome with the thought that the real me is standing over my shoulder with the Tivo remote in his hand, thumb pressed down hard on the pause button. That’s the only explanation I can come up with for creating nothing, writing nothing and doing nothing night after night during the time I set aside to update this site, promote content and promote the local screening events we’ve hosted for over four years now. Worst of all, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve flushed away four years of work on something I love in the matter of one short month.

The worst thing about wanting to do nothing except crawl back into bed, under the covers and sleep away the next few months is knowing that I’m letting so many people down. Between unanswered emails, texts, phone calls and private messages, I know I’m doing my friends and family and other people I care about a tremendous injustice. But I look at an unreplied to email in my box, tell myself “I’ll write back in an hour” and then an hour turns into a day which turns into multiple of those until I’m too embarrassed, to ashamed to write back and just say “I’m sorry. Something is really fucked up in me right now and I’m just too paralyzed to bother to get back to you”.

I haven’t even watched a horror movie this year, let alone write about one. On one hand, given the absolute drivel that’s been released so far this year I can’t be blamed too much can I? I mean, I’m pretty sure the purchase cost of a ticket for I, Frankenstein included a punch in the face. On top of that, there’s a stack of unsolicited screeners sitting in a pile that I just can’t bring myself to watch. I take pride in turning around reviews in a timely manner, especially for new releases, but right now these things are about as welcome as unannounced, twice removed family members suffering from chronic flatulence and hairleps showing up on the doorstep on Christmas Eve, bags in hand.

I hate even calling it by it’s name: DEPRESSION. I mean, I don’t feel sad or “bummed out”. It’s more this feeling of being completely overwhelmed. I can do just enough to get by. I can handle all my calls and emails at work as long as I don’t have to go too far above and beyond. I can get all my class work done (after taking far too long an absence, the light is at the end of the tunnel as far as my degree goes. I then expect to earn my Masters degree sometime around my sixtieth birthday) but goddamn if there aren’t times I’m not reading the same paragraph a dozen times without realizing it or retaining the information. I’m doing the bare minimum at home to keep up, and right now all I want to do with my time off is crawl under the covers, pull them over my head and sleep. I feel like I’m letting down everyone I care about.

So what does writing this all mean? Fucked if I know for sure. I’d like to think that it will serve as a kick in the ass, a means to start writing again, and to start getting back to the things and people I love. At the very least it gives me an opportunity to thank the friends and readers that have wondered what’s going on and how they can help. It’s got to get better, right?

Mike Snoonian

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since 2009 Mike has written about independent horror, science fiction, cult and thrillers through his own blog All Things Horror along with various other spots on the web. Film Thrills marks his attempt to take things up a notch, expand his viewing and writing horizons and to entertain and engage his audience while doing so. When Mike's not writing or watching movies, you can find him reading to his little girl, or doing science experiments with her, or trying to convince her that the term "chicken butt" comes from people putting chicken nuggets down their underwear. at age five, she's too smart to believe most of what he says.

6 Comments Join the Conversation →

  1. Paolo Martinelli

    Sorry to read this. Hope you get yourself together.
    A reader

  2. Rue Brown

    I've been dealing with this my whole life, and overwhelmed is exactly the word I use when I become totally paralyzed. I don't know if I can help, but if you want to talk to someone who understands…

  3. Rue Brown

    This comment has been removed by the author.

  4. Tom5150

    You mention e mails, computer screens, texts etc. For the most part, at this stage in my life, I have "Relieved" myself of all that. That is the white noise I think you speak of.We as a "society" are blinded daily by this white noise. How I combat this( and yes it is a bit of a fight sometimes) Is just to tune that stuff out and make myself Unavailable to DISTRACTION( And all this stuff mostly is— you know that dont you)I rarely talk on the cell phone if I do,its very brief, I hardly ever text and when I do its very abbrieviated, rarely email.Because lets really be honest, its really mostly crap.isn;t it? It seems as I get older(gonna be 45) I have less and less time I want to spend on this stuff- and I really dont feel I am missing anything.I would get rid of the cell , but its good for emergencys I guess.Facebook is probably going soon too, oh well> Point being I got everybodys Phone # I want and they have mine, or can get it easy.My "professional life hasn't really suffered, but has gotten somewhat better because I can prioritize the important things and leave all the White noise stuff behind.. I also journal everyday–With a pen and a actual journal, write REAL letters whenever I can( I never seem to get replies though I know they got them because they said how much they enjoyed them) And have just started writing a crime fiction novel(My First) And the first draft is being written with you guessed it- A fucking Pen and paper of all things.Point being- I feel much more liberated and happy. Yes life is going to always be there and I must admit that I find myself sleeping much more esp. this time of year, but its to fucking cold out there, so screw it. I hope this helped- we'll talk.

  5. Tom5150

    This last post was from your Cousin Tom S. and heres another fact too- The great Bill Murray was listed in the California and New York phone books under William, Komedy- and to this day does still not , nor has ever had a agent or publicist. I like that

  6. Eventually Enveloped

    That is real life horror. Fortunately it can sometimes have a happy ending.


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