Proselytising Predator (500 words)

As I stepped across the gangplank I fought the urge to say, ‘we’re gonna need a bigger boat.’ This was after all a year round shark diving operator and pretty accustomed to cliched Jaws quotes from over excited tourists. After a safety talk, and filling out of disclaimers our boat motored out of Port Lincoln harbour, and began the overnight journey into South Australian waters. The next day I woke at five am, sprang out of my bunk, got dressed, and dashed upstairs onto the deck. Our boat was anchored near the seal-populated Neptune islands. I shivered in the chilly morning air. The sun was just coming up and streaks of amber were scratched across the magenta sky. The crew slid a metal cage into the calm water and prepared wet-suits and breathing apparatus.

‘Any sharks yet?’ I asked.

‘Not yet mate,’ replied one of the crew. He pointed to a bucket of fish guts.

‘We’ll start chumming soon, then they’ll come.’

I went back into the galley, poured a coffee and sat at the table. A middle-aged Canadian woman called Jennie joined me. I had spoken briefly with her the previous evening. She was loud and large with saggy underarms. Without permission she picked up my book, The God Delusion, from the table and read the back cover. She shook her head, tutted and clutched her Crucifix.

‘Do you realise how offensive this book is?’ she asked.

‘Offensive to who?’ I replied.

Her eyes widened.

‘To G’aaad of course.’

I smiled and she handed me the book back. I wasn’t in the mood for a religious debate. I had apex predators and flimsy looking metal cages to worry about so I excused myself and went back out on deck. In these situations I always ask myself, what would Dawkins do?

The crew had started chumming and a slick of bloody fish meat meandered from the back of the boat. Sea birds circled and dived, squawking and squabbling over scraps.

‘That’ll bring em in mate,’ said one of the crew. ‘They can’t resist the bait.’

As I watched for sharks Jennie crept up behind me. For a large woman she was pretty stealthy. She touched me on the shoulder and motioned with her hand to follow her back inside.

‘Can I talk to you?’ she asked.

I shook my head, pointed to the water and mouthed, ‘sharks.’

She looked forlorn and put her hands together. I sighed and against my better judgment walked towards her when suddenly a crewman shouted out.

‘SHARK!’

My savior!

I peered over the side as a five metre Great White cruised past. Its huge black eye stared at me. I couldn’t believe I was actually looking at a Great White shark.

‘Who wants to go in?’ asked the skipper.

My stomach exploded at the thought of being first so I turned to retreat back inside. Jennie lurked in the doorway staring at me expectantly. I span back round and faced the skipper.

‘Me first please,’ I said.

How do you feel?

I first became aware that something was up with me on a driving holiday in New Zealand in 2003. I had gone over there for a six week journey around both islands with a girl I knew and up to that point we had always had a great time together. Six weeks prior to going I felt genuinely excited. I kept thinking about the amazing scenery I was going to experience. Mountains, lakes, canyons and valleys. This was after all Lord of the Rings country and if ever there was a place to bring forth feelings of majesty, awe and wonder this was it. However, as it got closer to my time to leave I started noticing that I was starting to feel less excited about the trip and by the time I was two weeks into the holiday I couldn’t feel anything at all except a constant numbness of emotions. I was finding it hard to laugh which was noticeable as the girl I was with and I had always laughed together. This compounded the issue as I had to keep telling her that it was nothing to do with her as to why I was feeling this way. She naturally kept asking me what it was then? I had no answer to give her. Conversations became stilted and long questioning silences started to crop up more frequently as we drove from place to place. I found talking really difficult because my attention had been pulled inwards by the strange, weird and dark thoughts that had erupted inside my mind like a geyser. In her eyes I had gone from being a fun loving guy who loved to laugh to some morose weirdo full of anxt. That’s how I saw it at the time anyway. The worst part was I couldn’t tell her why I was behaving like this because I didn’t know myself. Literally.

What really struck me about this state was the lack of emotional response I was getting from the beautiful landscapes we were driving through. I have always loved mountains and in these sorts of surroundings I would usually revert to child-like thinking, picturing dragons and other middle earth type creatures rampaging across the slopes of the snow capped peaks that were splayed out in front of me. In usual circumstances these views I was experiencing would have elicited a feelings of awe and and happiness. Freedom and even a sense of wonder at the natural world but there was none of those feelings. There was just a lot of nothingness. It was like looking at a blank postcard. No Orcs, no dragons, not one sniff of a Hobbit’s foot entered my mind. I was devoid of feeling. Empty.

Depression takes away any enjoyment and in situations where you should be happy I sometimes feel worse because in my head I am thinking, ‘why am I not feeling anything.’ Or, ‘If this can’t make me feel happy then what the fuck will?’ I have a photo of me standing on top of Snowdon with a group of mates after a hefty hike on a rainy Sunday. Every one in that photo is smiling. Exhilaration can be seen oozing out of their eyes and from their huge toothy grins. I am stood in the middle doing a ‘oh yes I really love my Christmas jumper,’ face.

Depression is like standing outside a house and looking in through the window and seeing everyone inside laughing and joking. You can see them and they can see you but you’re painfully aware you can never engage with them properly because of this barrier that separates you.

When people ask about depression and ask me how I feel I am always left feeling like I am taking a test. How should I feel? I have no idea as there are no feelings present. When it’s really bad conversations become pantomimes. I am being directed from inside my head and not responding due to the emotional response that should be generated from the nature of the conversation. I feel that sometimes I am acting my way through life. Every conversation is 9 times out of 10 me performing to how I feel I should respond. It’s something I am constantly working on. And it’s something that must get tiresome for people to hear about which is why I don’t (or at least) think I don’t bang on about it in person too much.

Am I weak willed? Maybe. Am I just a pussy? Probably. Do I need to just shut up and get on with it? More than likely. I am sure there are people in my life who would heartily agree with those statements. Much of the time I agree with them myself but then I also try and think about the achievements I have had in my life that have required a go get em attitude and a healthy strength of mind. The old black dog makes no allowances for any these successes. In the eyes of depression these achievements are nothing but an act of luck, or a by product of winging it somehow. Every achievement in my life has been boxed away, forgotten and taken to a warehouse like that one at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark.

For me, depression has never been about me being in a low mood. It’s about being in no mood and going through life unable to give genuine emotional responses. Depression affects many people in many ways. This is how it’s affected me.