Boom Boom Boom

Despite all the bad shit flying around, I’m doing surprisingly well. I’m taking charge of some aspects of my life in ways that are constructively healthy. After K and I went our separate ways, I was a little disheartened that I would have a similar connection with anyone else. I was very excited about her, and our falling out was, sadly, disheartening.

However, I did not give up. As I do with new challenges in all aspects of life, I endeavored to face them with hope and confidence. With my work, I took on more challenges until my volunteer status changed to employee. Then from 6 paid hours a month to 80. Up and up we go. I also had a passion for reconciling the unacknowledged self; the me that I show my partners. There was a total lack of this in my life and this issue is ongoing.

Now I am back on the dating scene and attracting a lot of attention with my self-honest profile, my achievements and myriad interests. Turns out there are lots of women who’d like to get to know me better, even here in my area. I’m encouraged. If she’s not here now, there is a high probability I’ll meet a woman I really click with sometime soon. I’m looking for the someone who will stay with me for the long haul, and I’m confident she is not far away.

What a feeling it is to be so radiant and attractive that interest is easily kindled and nurtured! I’m a very unique and remarkable person, and I’m proud of who I am. That shows in reciprocated responses.

Succeeding professionally and romantically! Yes! However, I’m still very nervous about the physical aspect of my dating… I don’t know if I’m ready for the real thing. I have been avoiding it with distance, but that is impractical. I must face this with my confidence and set the anxiety aside. It’s been more than 2 years, but I’m pretty sure I still know how. It’s like riding a bike… only WAY more fun.

Notes

I feel like I’m on the verge of launching, but I don’t know when or to where.

#12: We will never give up hope.

The fog is starting to clear a bit… and that is refreshing.

I’m finding my footing despite a deep and painful life-transition — this is something I’m proud of considering my past struggles.

I’m pretty awesome, and people are letting me know.

See you later.

Groups

Why is it that these groups help? There’s no treatment being rendered, no prescriptions or policies to follow. How can sharing be so effective? I think it has a lot to do with repressed versus expressed feelings and the cathartic act involved in unleashing things that few others get to see.

I don’t feel particularly rejuvenated, but I do feel like I was heard, which is a profound thing. I expressed my hurt over my dad, my poor coping skills stemming from that. I got a lot of genuine reaction from people who understand the why and the what of dealing with mental health symptoms. It is a blessing to have this support and be able to be exposed by it. I just wish I could have a similar feeling from a caring partner.

I saw people fighting the symptoms and thoughts of mental illness in their lives and surviving. People facing their demons and vocalizing. I’m still kinda running from mine, but I won’t forever, yet there was so much in the group dynamic I benefitted from. I will be resolute in healthily coping, but reaching that state is the struggle I face. For now though, my ecliptic is only a place I hang laundry from and the so-called cushions of my chair are pancaked into squishless plates of unfortunate size that tweak my posture and provide no relief. There are surely better habits out there waiting to be implemented.

All the lonely was scraped off like so much obscuring ice on the car windshield of my destiny. I still have only a small sniff of things that may come, but for the time being, there is an ache which continues unabated, unrequited and unmistakable. Is there someone out there? There are people that I help and those that help me. I tend to think a balance of both is the surest path towards positivity.

Unchanged

Not a lot is different than just a bit ago. I ran a Support Group tonight. It was hard to stay on top of my shit. I did though, and it was really good for me to not have been off pooping my brain-pants somewhere alone. I’m still very wounded, having to let go of K again and returning the things I bought for her birthday. It just reminds me how unrelentingly horrible and abrasive I am to everyone not obligated to put up with me. Regardless of incentives, my repulsion is overwhelming.

I keep looking, but I’m despondent. There is no one. There was only “close,” and now, nothing at all. Scaring away potential partners is something I’m just so fucking good at. I’m, like, nationally ranked at that shit.

Well, fuck. I’m tired, sad, dejected and in a big hole right before bed. I imagine I will again dream of things that torture me as they have of late. I have no one to hold me after a nightmare. I have exactly what I deserve. Rejection. Disgust. Solitude.

Shmatters

Feeling broken into many pieces right now. I don’t feel like I have any wind in my sails… no drive to move me forward. I am alone, trapped in a barren waste devoid of shelter from the cold. Each new step forward rings with an ache; a slow decay of the bone, the flesh itself begins to wither rot and disappear. The full space of my heart is opened like a tomb, fresh with the foul stink of confined death. It feels like the sun isn’t shining, or, that I have forgotten how it feels to be warm. I gape at the disparity of days, and wonder if more pain lies in wait for me in the days ahead. I know that it does, and I already am prepared to continue to suffer. My own sorcery confines me, where once it was used to set me free.

Crashy ‘Splode… Poof!

I haven’t felt like writing. Real life has been volatile to the point of occupying my attention fully. K was back for a bit but now gone again. She’s not the right fit for my life, which is now abundantly clear. Dad is still slowly dying; withering away as I watch helplessly. Mom lost her mind with stress and grief a few days back, which poisoned the world for a time. Am I dealing with this? Have I become depersonalized from my perception of reality? What hope is there of consistency when all the variables are fluctuating?

I have only what skills and strategies I’ve learned in order to survive this life in varying states of decomposition and growth. There’s no making sense of it; I’ve given up on that. Now, I hang on for scrapes and fingernails.