Been feeling angry and nihilistic lately.
The usual angsty crap. Everything is stupid and pointless and meaningless and lame and my life is a pathetic meaningless grind of day after day of doing nothing of substance while I wait to die.
Good thing I’m patient.
It’s all so frustrating. I feel so trapped and helpless, and yet salvation always seems so tantalizingly close because the positive steps I could make to improve my life all seem so simple and easy and totally within my capabilities, and yet that nameless and pervasive fear still holds me back like I am vapor-locked to a slab.
It’s getting so bad that I think I am going to have to fall back on the last resort of a wretch like me : faith.
Or maybe trust. I am just going to have to trust that if I keep tunneling through all the dead scar tissue and atrophied adipose deposits in my blasted bloated brain, I will eventually clear out enough of my metaphorical arteries to restore healthy blood flow to my bruised and broken heart for this old carcass of mine to finally come alive.
It feels like I am making progress. Like my main systems are slowly and gradually coming online and I can get the faintest glimmer of feeling what it is like to be alive.
But it’s so goddamned slow. And not just slow – recently I have come to realize that it can’t happen while I am watching, so to speak. My trying to focus my mind and will myself to do things in a logical and linear way always backfires because my overweaning superego takes over and brings the pressure and the judgment and the fear and everything goes all to hell.
I simply cannot accomplish things by arranging a frontal assault of the main gate.
All I can do is leave the back door open and let growth sneak in at midnight and get things done before anyone knows it’s there.
In other words, give myself room to grow. I feel like I have been truly growing lately and I think it’s because I have consciously committed to pumping personal energy into my great and glorious id and that means things are finally waking up inside me.
It also helps that I have consciously recognized how full of crap my oh so logical and rational side is.
Sure it’s a powerful wizard, but if it can’t summon me some happiness or conjure up some peace of mind, fuck it, it’s useless to me.
The id is the life spring of all happiness. Depression fools you into hoarding your energy and spending it very reluctantly, and that is what kills you.
It’s like, “the patient is sick, so we cut off most of their blood flow”.
You have to ease up, thaw out, and let things flow. Stop killing yourself with emotional austerity and embrace the economic growth and wholesome wellbeing of a free flowing cash economy of the soul.
Even for me, that’s an excessive metaphor.
So I am paddling down the river of de nihil lately.
But I am headed to the promised land.
More after the break.
And now, the thing I do
Ya know, it occurs to me that this little blog of mine is my paper thin defense against being completely fucking useless.
This is it. These thousand words a day that only two people read. These words muttered into the darkness of the void, tiny and precious and the only justification my existence can claim.
It’s so little. And so much. It might be just one lonely beach ball on the distant shores of life, but to a gnat like me, it’s an entire planet.
I am not naturally so small. If my world was set a-right I would live a much larger life.
But I’m stuck being small because depression has stunted my growth. All this power and potential and sheer fucking amazingness crammed inside the soul of a toddler.
No wonder I have claustrophobia. I’m all stopped up in here!
But it’s not my fault I went crazy. I was doing fine till my parents yanked college out from under me. Then I went crazy and here I am, 25 years later. still bugfuck insane.
That’s what happens when you are too sick to help yourself. Especially if you are a big burly bearded man who society says “should be able to take care of himself”.
Guess I am just a loser, then. For all those years, my entire adult life, it’s been all I can do to just keep making it through the day by keeping myself distracted.
Every now and then, I would have the wherewithal to swim in the vague direction of progress. Getting individual therapy. Going to Kwantlen then VFS. Starting and maintaining this wackass blog of mine.
But mostly, I just drifted through time. I never thought about the future because when I tried, all I could see was a big greyed out mirror ahead of me, and if I tried harder, all I got was clutching panic as I realized what a flaming diaper pail my life was.
Yet somehow, I kept believing that things would get better “someday”. Like the horizon, “someday” never got any closer. and yet I kept on believing.
Amazing how it’s possible to believe something will happen while doing absolutely nothing to make it happen, isn’t it?
Luckily, these days, I am growing stronger, and for once I can actually feel the future as a real and solid thing, and that lets me truly believe that somewhere out there is a place where I can belong, be strong, and finally be a real human being.
Even if I have to build it myself.
Well what the hell. I’ve always had to do things my way anyhow.
And as my id finally rises like sap in spring, it will banish the shadows of indecision with the pure red light of desire.
Fuck what I “should” do.
What do I want to do?
I look forward to figuring that out.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.