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!

Mood Album v. 3

In light of recent turbulence in my world, I’ve tried keeping a better feel on the introspective pulse of regular function. I’m also aware that I’m subjecting myself to an unusually high level of stress and stimuli in an effort to combat creeping depression. I see all the elements like a confluence of rivers forming a mighty torrent… somehow sweeping my brain away downstream or buried in silt. Nevertheless, I still pry open the inner vault of the self and try to understand things happening to and from it. I feel I’m better at some things I used to be terrible at, but still lacking in quite a few areas. What are my true motivations for my actions? Why do I open myself to every nice person that walks by? Why am I such an insatiable prick? What does being understood feel like?

I sit here in my snowman jammies and wonder if expression really helps, or if it just provides a forum for things to garner attention for a time? I think the more ways I can ventilate this shit-smelling barn the better. Activities like the Mood Albums I do are helpful because they give me the chance to craft a narrative in a medium not often used. I don’t think myself anything other than expressive, curious and expositional about my own feelings and path forward. So as of the last album when I was feeling a fair bit gooier than I am now, I needed to revisit my good friend pain, loneliness and rekindle an ongoing desire to see things change.

Tracks from the previous Mood Album: Spatulas & Bandaids are highlighted in yellow. I have pulled from other wishy-washy type albums as well that have been generated in the past. I didn’t go “all in” on the squish, mind you, but it’s there. As you can see, there has been some pretty severe turnover in the track-list. I have listed the previous two iterations below so the whole three-album progression can be seen clear.

Mood Album (v. 3): Splattercake Conjunctivitis

Length: 74 minutes

  1. Mad World – Tears for Fears
  2. If This Is It – Huey Lewis & The News
  3. Walking On Broken Glass – Annie Lennox
  4. Don’t Do Me Like That – Tom Petty & The Heartbrakers
  5. Pamela – Toto
  6. Walk Away – Joe Walsh
  7. I Wouldn’t Want To Be Like You – The Alan Parsons Project
  8. The Voice – The Moody Blues
  9. Move On – George Michael
  10. Back In Black – AC/DC
  11. Falling Away From Me – Korn
  12. (SIC) – Slipknot
  13. Waves – Blondfire
  14. Straight To My Heart – Sting
  15. All Over You – Live
  16. Let’s Go
  17. Don’t Get Me Wrong – The Pretenders
  18. More Than Words – Extreme

Mood Album (v. 2): Spatulas & Bandaids

Length: 73 minutes

  1. Mad World – Tears For Fears
  2. Once – Pearl Jam
  3. Animal – Def Leppard
  4. All Over You – Live
  5. In Thee – Blue Öyster Cult
  6. No One Like You – Scorpions
  7. Mr. Blue Sky – Electric Light Orchestra
  8. The Voice – The Moody Blues
  9. One Thing Leads To Another – The Fixx
  10. Heartbeat CIty – The Cars
  11. Fragile – Sting
  12. Help Is On Its Way – Little River Band
  13. Don’t Get Me Wrong – The Pretenders
  14. The Promise – When In Rome
  15. Best Of My Love – Eagles
  16. Baby, Come To Me – Patti Austin & James Ingram
  17. King Of Pain – The Police
  18. Move On – George Michael

Mood Album (v. 1): Deflatacated Marshmallow

Length: 77 Minutes

  1. Fastlove – Gerorge Michael
  2. Beds Are Burning – Midnight Oil
  3. Mr. Blue Sky – Electric Light Orchestra
  4. Once – Pearl Jam
  5. Animal – Def Leppard
  6. All Over You – Live
  7. Heartbeat City – The Cars
  8. Broken Wings – Mr. Mister
  9. Fragile – Sting
  10. Don’t Get Me Wrong – The Pretenders
  11. The Promise – When In Rome
  12. Because The Night – 10,000 Maniacs
  13. Somebody To Love – Queen
  14. Feels So Good – Chuck Mangione
  15. Baby, Come To Me – Patti Austin & James Ingram
  16. What You Won’t Do For Love – Bobby Caldwell
  17. Harden My Heart – Quarterflash
  18. King Of Pain – The Police

Trials Ended

I’ve come to a determination that I’m still going to be alone. I do not fit with others. I have not found someone able to tolerate me as is. I think this is, again, a stopping point.

I’m going no further thinking my abrasive and inconsistent personality will fit with others. I do not see a future where I am understood. I see no one who can relate to me on the level I am at. Maybe I’m too deranged to be fully comprehended. Perhaps that discontinuity is for a good reason; to prevent future traumas.

You all have seen me flailing about. You watch and probably don’t care one fucking bit. I don’t blame you. I’m no one of relevance to you. The last time someone came out of your ranks my life exploded, then imploded. Never again. I say that, yet I yearn for her still.

Is there any hope of tranquility? I suppose a state of total abstinence and solidarity seems the only path left to me. I scorn those who try to care. I rebuke those who don’t fit. I struggle alone in endless solitude. Not a single fucking one of you cares. This is an empty vessel constantly filled with dispersing noises, fading echoes and then nothing.

Reasons

I know what symptoms feel like when they are neurochemical in origin. When my brain is not properly functioning, the world is made of cardboard and the mask I wear stinks from overuse and weighs heavily on my face. There is cause, logically, based on my life circumstances, to have these feelings… but no trigger started the deterioration that has led to now. In this moment, I am acutely depressed.

Fortunately for me, I’ve been here before. I’ve had days like this, sometimes several in a row. My caution in this instance is warranted, but my impulsive overreactions are unwelcome. I’ve been down in the past, but then I rise up in time. The air on the climbing slope is cleaner; free if the choking miasma if sorrow. I wish I were there now, above the cloud tops…

I struggle on in this tasteless, lifeless portrayal of reality that I find myself temporarily confined to. Sometimes there is no mental jailbreak to escape it. I’m in solitary, and unclear about how long that will last, or how long it has been since I’ve seen anything other than four white walls. I face the continued tick tick of measured time with the stamina of a veteran, and the frailty of a neglected child.

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.

Yearning In Stupidity

I search their names online. I don’t know what I’m hoping to find. Do I expect they don’t hate me? That they somehow have changed? Do all these years help us see something new?

No. It is only pain. There is nothing there but the dead space where something once thrived. If I yearn, I do so foolishly. I hope that the feeling of that love would come back and be strong again. Nothing like that is real. Ever.

I scour for some sight of her. Of them. They just go on living their lives and I might as well be nothing at all. I left no mark. I inspire no second thought. I am a wasted human devoid of value in the scales of companionship.

Of all those I have loved, none wanted to keep me. They tolerated me for a time. Then, no more. I hurt them. Drove them away with my illness. Contaminated myself beyond desire. No bridges can span the gorge.

If J was still out there I’d love her with that fire in me that will NEVER go out. If K had a way to see me, I’d try to fall for her, and if E wasn’t lost in a fool’s dream I’d rekindle the passion we once had.

WHO THE FUCK AM I KIDDING??????

My dreams are utter bullshit. Just another stupid fucking idea my infected, dysfunctional brain came up with to alleviate the unquenchable loneliness. There is no phoenix; nothing will ever rise from the ashes I created. It is gone. Forever. I can’t bear it. It hurts so badly. I’m crushed under it. Decimated. Defenseless. Lost.