Reset Button

It’s the end of the week, but just the beginning in a lot of ways. I keep learning and failure is my teacher.

I need to find better ways to cope with my sadness and loneliness. There’s no external that can mend the internal.

I’m disappearing into routine. There has been too much pain in my heart. Am I done providing a catalyst to destructive situations? Why look where there is nothing to find?

Alone is best.

Eject?

I feel a little better than I did last night, but it’s clear things in my local environment are falling apart. The implosion has been underway for some time with no change, as I stated earlier. I can only control myself, and the outcomes I am directly responsible for. I can choose what to do with my time, where to invest it and how to be effective in my limited capacity. Some words to describe my reality would be: oblivious, dysfunctional, malignant and frustrating. Do you see why someone who is geared towards helping people would be acutely frustrated by people who are totally unwilling to partake in progress? Or even in denial about how they think they are helping when it is just more of the same bullshit?

My social world is dwindling down to a tiny number of relevant people with only the premature seeds of potential still un-watered in the soil. I’m going to stick with what I know is working and just play the rest as it comes. No more reaching out, no more looking for external answers. All the truth I need is already within.

I guess this is true of all the aspects of my life. I am always open to change when it comes, and ready to face new challenges. Even in the flickering spark of possibility there is hope, though it can be utterly extinguished over and over again. I’m not checking out, but I am withdrawing my limbs and sheltering in place until something “real” happens. There are consequences to bad behavior, just like kids learn. You can’t get away with being damaging or acutely oblivious without incurring some consequence. Now is the time for consequences.

 

Unchanging

I don’t know why, but I always seem to hope for unrealistic things. For example: I hope that people in my world would stop and change their destructive behaviors and instead nothing changes. I hope that self-honest introspection would be seen as an aspiration, but still nothing changes. I’m mired in frustration; perplexed by a world of decay and stagnation while I try to emerge. I think I’ve finally snapped.

I’m not in psychosis, but I’m just done with the people that erode my healthy behaviors and perpetuate dysfunction. I’m tired of shallow and meaningless exchanges that build a nothing road to nowhere. Why am I wasting my time, skills and love on people who don’t recognize what I have to offer? I’m such a special person, and yet, I subject myself to a reality that will never comprehend all that I am.

This is my frustration. It is massive, unrecognized and undesired. I have very few people in my world that really matter or make a difference. My home is a wasteland. My social circle has chunks missing from it. My redemption is the hard work I put in to help people advance their lives towards prosperity, dignity and stability. That’s no joke. I really do help people, every day. Meanwhile I’m surrounded by resentment, disdain, denial and escapism. My role models are the worst people I know.

So Blog, I’m detaching. Fuck all that noise. I’m launching into independence of self if not of physical location. Soon enough I will be subject to a calamitous and changing circumstance, but the torture involved is unrelenting while totally unappreciated. I’m frustrated beyond calculation.

I tried to expand the bubble and I shouldn’t have. The world is just jam packed with idiots, mindless wanderers and deplorables waiting to poison my reality. Are you ever just sickened by the life you lead? Do you ever wish you could permanently exit? I think about it now. I didn’t used to, but now I do. This life is frustrating because all the parts that need to change are completely unchanging. Stuck in dysfunction. Sinking into the stagnation in a painfully slow fashion.

I do wish I wasn’t here anymore. Nobody sees me. Nobody is even slightly capable beyond a slim margin of well-traveled veterans of my bubble. Do you know how desolate it feels to know we’re all just faking real life? Every day is a pretend version of actuality. Every interaction is make believe. I humor my way through, but why? They don’t see me now, what difference would it make if I were dead? I’d still be just as ineffectual and easy to disregard.

I feel acutely hopeless. Lost. I don’t know how long I can tolerate this rancid rot that fills my nostrils. Denial. Revulsion. Despair. Goodnight.

Some Thoughts

I do wonder where the path of my life is headed quite a bit. In terms of my dad, my independent life, my swirling mental health issues being instigated by circumstance… what is to come if me? I have stated before that the ambiguity helps nothing. Instead, it renders fear and doubt, while creating a hostile place for stability to begin.

Patience. There is no salve that will heal. There is no one question that, when answered, provides absolution from doubts. The predator is chance and time draws out the hunt into painful exchanges. I’m hunted by my fears and I’m feeling like that rabbit that didn’t make it.

Masked in functionality is the sense of frustration for circumstantial things that aren’t correctable. Am I doing enough to help my world prosper? What kind of friend am I to myself and others? Who am I becoming as the universe unfolds a future rife with calamity? How I dodge and swerve determines how long I can stay on the path.

There is no answer to this feeling; only finding a way to live with it. I’m bitterly frustrated at times, but also co tent in this place. It’s polar, which seems like a proper fit considering my diagnosis.

Shoe On

I haven’t written in a while, clearly. Things in my world have become increasingly busy and I find less and less that this blog is the coping tool I use. I’ve been abusing substances instead, and trying to detach from reality. I know this is a negative thing, and I’ve already started correcting some of those undesirable tendencies. It’s a gradual process reflecting my patience to allow it to become the firmament upon which all is built.

I’ve been doing better though. I have been spending time with new friends and old friends. S and I are still talking, albeit infrequently. S has a lot going on like I do, but is sometimes requiring some unpacking or dissembling. I decided to reach out to my ex, A, and try to rebuild a bridge I had destroyed in the past in my enthusiasm for more friends. Talking with A has also been going pretty good. The things that are possible once my skewed approach to friend-girls was corrected are quite surprising. my sexual motor is grinding to a greaseless stall. I feel markedly less alone talking to W, S and A. No need to worry about the future: only that right here, right now, I have good people to talk to again. I missed having friends. This new aspect of my world has been nourishing me greatly. I won’t deny my feelings, but all have been situated in the fondness of friendship; a healthy emotional state I’d like to cultivate, not suppress.

Life at home is still turbulent. I don’t know how much positive impact I have anymore, if there is any at all. I feel useless and disregarded as an experienced peer with above average communication skills. I just can’t figure out a good way to coexist in this dynamic. It’s frustrating but still reality all the same.

I’m on a positive track right now. I sure hope I can keep it up! Talk to you later Blogomites!