That’s what I feel like right now. Like I am carrying an armload of rolled up blehs like an architect carrying blueprints and I’d like to be able to put them down, but I can’t.
As to why, I dunno.
Today I had therapy and today I did a vid about it :
I am trying to imagine behaving differently during therapy and my mind really does not want to go there.
I can’t imagine sobbing into the phone, or ranting and raving like a loon, or otherwise letting my guard down and just letting it all out.
I’d feel vulnerable and I’d be embarrassed. Yes, even though it would be my therapist witnessing it and if anything he would be very pleased that my emotions were coming out and want me to do it more.
But I guess my social persona is not that flexible. I learned at an early age to keep it all to myself and not let anyone see how sad and depressed and anxious I was, because like I say in the vid, I could imagine no good outcomes for that.
Hell, even if the person was 100 percent sympathetic and supportive and offered me a great big hug, I would still feel awkward and ashamed and I am not sure I would be able to accept further love and warmth from this person.
I might just need to run away and avoid that person for a while, even though they did the ideal thing in that situation.
Or at least the best that I can think of.
So I am not sure what would help me. I’m not sure I can even be helped.
I suppose a job would help a whole heck of a lot. It would lend structure to my life and give me an income, which would be nice, but mostly because it would let me finally pay my own way and not be a lumpen drain on society any more.
Like I told Doctor Costin, I still carry around an enormous amount of grief and guilt and shame about how my life turned out.
And it doesn’t matter how much others might tell me that I shouldn’t feel that way, that I should just accept that I have been sick for a long time and not able to earn my way.
And I will not dispute the truth of that statement and yet this heavy blanket of shame is not affected by it. I guess I just can’t forgive myself for this whole debacle yet.
Which means that on some level I must believe that I could have done better and that therefore I should have done better.
But that does not necessarily follow.
I made a lot of “mistakes” to get here. But were they truly mistakes? Maybe I have done remarkably well given my circumstances.
After all, I do a vid and a blog every day, and that’s technically productive. A little more productive each day given how fast I am accumulating TikTok followers.
Who knows, maybe my fame will snowball and I’ll reach the magical island of having a thousand followers and being able to make money offa TikTok.
I know that, ironically, making a video where I bare myself emotionally to the degree that I did today (not a lot) did me a lot of good.
I feel emotionally lighter now.
I dunno if I will ever be able to truly let down my guard and let loose. Maybe. I would like to think that it’s at least possible.
The fact that I can’t imagine it happening does not mean that it can’t. My imagination, as broad as it is, does not limit reality.
Sure would be nice to get this glacier off my chest.
More after the break.
Again with the brooding
Or maybe that should have a question mark. Again with the brooding? Oy.
I’ve been in a restless, pissed off, fitful mood today. The kind of mood where I am just glad I spend most of my time alone so I don’t end up snapping at anybody.
Maybe today would have been a great day to record a political rant. Oh well.
A day kinda like this one :
The usual bitter nihilistic thoughts have been circulating in my head.
All the greatest hits, like :
“I hate my life. ”
“Everything is stupid and nothing matters.”
“Why do I even bother doing things?”
“I want to scream and jump out a window. ”
“(to the entire world) Stop it! Just… stop it! Lay off me! Leave me the fuck alone! FUCK YOU!”
now available on album, tape, CD, or my brain
And of course, as patient readers know, I know that this is part of my mood cycle and hopefully I will be able to harness some of this excess aggression into making some real progress on my mental health.
I was telling Doc Costin today that lately I have felt like I am on a speeding train heading nowhere in particular (except the grave) and the train keeps going faster and faster and there’s no way to slow down.
And it might seem like I could get off whenever I wanted to do so but in practice it feels like if I jump off at this speed I will die.
And that’s why this life of mine keeps going in a direction I don’t actually want to go and I am stuck here in this freight car trying to work up the nerve to jump off it.
But it’s always so much easier to just stay on the train. Just for a little while longer. After all, it’s warm and safe (and dank and smelly and gross) here and so we might as well just wait until jumping off isn’t scary or painful any more.
Aaaaaany minute now.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.
P.S. Today’s episode was brought you by italics.