I'm scared of going off of my medication. I've never been afraid in the past, and I've gone off of much higher doses. I shouldn't even be worried about it. I cling to it too desperately. But I've also never been this isolated, with no one to care for to help me feel sane. No one to care about me. These are the hills and dark valleys of my life.
Saturday, November 9, 2013
Friday, November 8, 2013
I don’t know the reason I follow the same paths over and over. I hope for something different every time. And while I wander, I don’t really move.
It takes something special to remind me that there is real beauty in the world. Something so singular that I forget it exists most of the time. If there is a pinnacle to the Human mind, then it has to be some kind of artistic, abstract appreciation for real, concrete beauty. For something real that exists only in the ether.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
A golden age
turned to stone;
Elysium, to dust
a tragic journey
of a dying embrace
Where Echonia wept,
I sank into the silent desert
Fallen am I,
in the solitude
of a broken promise
I cried alone
My empyrean is a scar
from the memory of a beautiful life
Forever was her name
in a lifetime of regret
would cover me,
as I would die now
for one last wish
Friday, June 7, 2013
It's kind of ridiculous to still have this feeling in my chest the entire time. It just won't go away. I feel so restless, as if I've just now realized that I'm completely alone, and have been wasting away. I would say it's a positive development, only I know that I'm ignoring everything and trying to use its energy to push me forward. That's not exactly a positive thing, although, in the end, it may be.
Thursday, June 6, 2013
Cognitive Behavioral Therapy is hard to practice on yourself. But, I'm trying. I've always known that obsessing over the same things over and over make me feel worse, contribute to my anxiety and generally make me kind of crazy most of the time. But I have always had a certain comfort in it, as if it's something I can hold on to. Something I can hold on to while it destroys my psyche from the inside.
I want to meet a girl who interests me. I don't want flings, but at the same time, I do. I just want intimacy, even if I know it will be temporary. I feel kind of stupid admitting that.
I know that I have a personality that draws people in, when I can harness it and channel it correctly. I've always had that. I just need to force my own self-image out of my head, and focus on the world around me, and try harder to... not try so hard. To be honest, regardless of whether anyone agrees with it or understands it. Since when did I care so much about being accepted to the point that I filter my personality through it? It's pathetic. I have convinced myself that there isn't anyone out in the world that could possibly reflect my own level of being. Can that really be true?
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
I have a very deep fear of abandonment. I never truly realized that until recently. I have a very real fear of being alone. This is something I never really considered, because I'm so used to solitude. But, I desperately want to find social fulfillment.
My anxiety has reached epic levels. It reminds me of being young, and being afraid, and being clueless as to what to do next. But, I'm older now, and I've dealt with this kind of instability before. And, I have more wealth of knowledge and confidence to draw upon than I ever did before.
Over the last few years, I've let my brain become swollen with the anxiety that comes with always worrying about being judged. Always worrying about what others think. Always trying to placate or ply or just remain copacetic. When I was younger, I didn't much care. But my self-image has been thoroughly shattered. I never bothered to even think about rebuilding it.
I can never get past what others will see when they look at me. It makes me hate myself, hate my choices, hate my detriments. The ironic thing is that with this overflow of panic at such a sustained rate, it has brought thoughts up that I completely forgot about. It has made me realize that I need to be myself in every situation, to be present and to speak my mind to some extent. Not because I want to fit in, or to be perceived a certain way, but because it allows me to feel better about myself. It helps me feel like I don't exist on another plane of existence.
I never thought I would get more insecure with age. But, I never thought I would destroy so many facets of my life, and end up a lonely outcast. The more I force myself not to say 'anything', but to say something from my heart in situations, the more I feel like I exist in the world. The more people treat me like I'm real. Even if they don't like it or think it's strange. At least I'm real.
I almost can't contain it all. It's like I'm having a nervous breakdown, but at the same time re-opening a part of myself. Pandora's box, with all it's evils and pure energy, is coming out.
Monday, January 28, 2013
I’ve been in some weird anti-stasis since I moved here. My persona has been obsessed with acclimating. It’s gotten to the point where it seems like all I do is cower from other people’s intentions.
And now that I’m slowly returning to normal, I’m pressing back against that pressure. It comes out in the most mundane ways, because it began and is solely mundane. Since I reacted to it in an anxious way, though, it has given me the façade of being weak and unsure.
So now that I’m being more assertive, I can tell I’m going to create the same inane conflicts that I used to, before I supplanted my confidence with hiding in altered states of consciousness. There is still a large part of me that feels like I’m not worth being assertive. It’s just gotten so frustrating putting up with other people’s domineering attitudes that I’m forced to.
I’m kind of amazed that I lack self-confidence so acutely. I’ve never really felt that kind of worthlessness, even when I was morbidly depressed all the time, because I accepted it as a part of myself. I don’t know how I came to feel so worthless in a grander sense.
From the outside, I know it looks like I’m unstable. That’s my main problem with being social: I progress through feelings internally, and then express them externally, and it looks like I’m just erratic and not in control of myself.
I don’t know if my brain chemistry is still slowly returning to normal, but at least it feels like I’m learning to be myself more than a year, or five years, or even ten years ago.