Saturday, December 02, 2006
November
Just read a blog of my friend Matt's, and realized I too have something on my mind.
I'm sorry if this can't get any better. I'm sorry about all the depressing things I've been saying/doing/writing. I'm sorry that I just can't fix it right now.
I have moments where I am grateful to be alive. To have the ability to speak and write, and dress myself even, and all the things I realized in many summers of camp how many tiny things we, yes we, take for granted.
If I want something to eat I can make it myself. I don't need anyone to put it in a blender and feed it to me in a straw. I can move my mouth in certain shapes that form words and notes and sing a song. And when I sing it, I can hear it. So yes, there is a lot to be grateful for -- that's why they always say the thing about at least having your health, when everything else seems to be in the toilet.
I am lonely, to tell the truth, not for people, for communication, to be understood, which may be the purpose of this blog.
People keep telling me I'll get through these things, and that I'm handling them well, and that I'm strong. But I don't feel that way. I feel like my face and every action and everything is some kind of stage. Because when the sky is falling, whatever that means for each individual person, it can be hard to want to hold your head up.
My friend was writing about the things he'd have to offer a significant other. That's funny, because I was just thinking about that today.
I was thinking about how a year ago I was working two jobs, going to school, getting drunk as much as possible, and sleeping with somebody just regularly enough to get laid when I wanted to while not worrying about getting too emotionally involved.
I did that because I felt hopeless, and lost, and worthless for whatever reason. I thought I had nothing to offer, so I drank. And then eventually, I was either drunk or working and my initial thoughts had become a self-fulfilled prophecy.
That changed when I got tired of that feeling, and so I got back up on my feet. Still didn't mean I was ready to allow myself to be happy. I fell in love, even, and still didn't know how to be happy.
Now, so many other things are going on, that if you don't know about, I am not obliged to go into. But trust me -- things are worse. Way worse. Not drinking, not meaningless sex, but other self-created problems for which I am to blame.
And I can't think about how next year will be better, or next month, or my next relationship, because I haven't been able to even bring myself to see someone more than a few times since Chris and I broke up, much less sleep with them.
I can't say maybe someday. I can't dream up new goals yet. I can't cry every moment. And I can't analyze everything, or turn back time like fucking Superman.
Obviously.
So, that about brings us up to date. Thanks.
Just read a blog of my friend Matt's, and realized I too have something on my mind.
I'm sorry if this can't get any better. I'm sorry about all the depressing things I've been saying/doing/writing. I'm sorry that I just can't fix it right now.
I have moments where I am grateful to be alive. To have the ability to speak and write, and dress myself even, and all the things I realized in many summers of camp how many tiny things we, yes we, take for granted.
If I want something to eat I can make it myself. I don't need anyone to put it in a blender and feed it to me in a straw. I can move my mouth in certain shapes that form words and notes and sing a song. And when I sing it, I can hear it. So yes, there is a lot to be grateful for -- that's why they always say the thing about at least having your health, when everything else seems to be in the toilet.
I am lonely, to tell the truth, not for people, for communication, to be understood, which may be the purpose of this blog.
People keep telling me I'll get through these things, and that I'm handling them well, and that I'm strong. But I don't feel that way. I feel like my face and every action and everything is some kind of stage. Because when the sky is falling, whatever that means for each individual person, it can be hard to want to hold your head up.
My friend was writing about the things he'd have to offer a significant other. That's funny, because I was just thinking about that today.
I was thinking about how a year ago I was working two jobs, going to school, getting drunk as much as possible, and sleeping with somebody just regularly enough to get laid when I wanted to while not worrying about getting too emotionally involved.
I did that because I felt hopeless, and lost, and worthless for whatever reason. I thought I had nothing to offer, so I drank. And then eventually, I was either drunk or working and my initial thoughts had become a self-fulfilled prophecy.
That changed when I got tired of that feeling, and so I got back up on my feet. Still didn't mean I was ready to allow myself to be happy. I fell in love, even, and still didn't know how to be happy.
Now, so many other things are going on, that if you don't know about, I am not obliged to go into. But trust me -- things are worse. Way worse. Not drinking, not meaningless sex, but other self-created problems for which I am to blame.
And I can't think about how next year will be better, or next month, or my next relationship, because I haven't been able to even bring myself to see someone more than a few times since Chris and I broke up, much less sleep with them.
I can't say maybe someday. I can't dream up new goals yet. I can't cry every moment. And I can't analyze everything, or turn back time like fucking Superman.
Obviously.
So, that about brings us up to date. Thanks.
Labels: Depression, Drinking
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