Fucked if I know.

My birthday is coming up in 12 days (on May 19) and I have no idea what to ask for yet

As usual. This is my standard process.

When you are used to having very little money and thus very few options, like me, it is very hard to leave that mindset. Most of the world’s bright and shiny stuff is not even the vaguest of possibilities for me and so I have learned to turn off the consumer craving part of my brain because it can only lead to pain.

But then my birthday or Xmas comes along, and suddenly I need to wake that part of my brain up and ask it what it wants.

And it doesn’t want to wake up. And so far, I have not figured out how to force it. I am pondering some sort of visualization exercise along the lines of “Imagine that you’re…” but so far nothing stirs the wanting part of my brain.

At least,. not in a useful way. I tried “imagine you just won the lotterty”, but all that got me was “I’d start buying real estate. ”

“Imagine you have a $5000 gift certificate for Best Buy. ” Um. Hmmm. That’s not helping either. Because I have no idea what I would want that I don’t already have. It’s not like I have a use for a big screen TV or a badass stereo system.

And even if I did, I am hardly going to ask for one.

I suppose a better monitor might be nice, but I am pretty happy with the one I have. Ditto my keyboard and mouse. My computer can handle whatever video game I want it to play. so that’s cool.

Maybe a new computer chair. Something really ergonomic, with loads of back support and butt cushioning. I spend most of the day sitting in front of the computer, so any kind of comfort gain would pay off right away and really pay off over time.

“Imagine you literally can have anything you want.”

Now this could be interesting.

First thing that comes to mind : a boyfriend. One who is sweet and kind and gentle and nerdy who thinks I am brilliant and is happy to help me with reality in exchange for my endless love, support, and affection.

If I had that. I wouldn’t need much else.

Apart from that, even the prospect of univeral indulgence doesn’t help me start wanting things very much. The things I want most aren’t things. They are intangibles. Things like a job writing for TV in a cool n’ groovy workplace where people know how to work hard and have fun at the same time. Someplace where I will be valued and appreciated and recognized as having worth because of both what I can do and who I am.

Yeah. That would be nice. Not the sort of thing a friend can get you, though, unless that friend happens to be a new projects manager for Netflix.

I mean, apart from romance, what I really really want is to get a chance to grow up. To be able to support myself and not feel like I am this huge burden on everyone. To be able to stand on my own two feet and say “I am contributing!”.

To finally feel like I am a legitimate grownup who has had the sorts of life experiences (like love and career) that make for a well-rounded person who lived their life to the fullest instead of what I do now, which is the exact opposite.

Like I said. Intangibles. Things you can’t buy at any store.

I have been trying to think of something that would help me get my career going but I can’t think of anything. It’s not like motivation comes in pill form. Nor does courage, or the ability to heal profound psychological damage overnight.

I’m the only one who can free me from this cage, and that’s kind of hard to do when you are STUCK IN A CAGE.

Maybe I should be hospitalized. I don’t know. Pretty sure I couldn’t do that just by asking anyhow. Even if I said I was feeling suicidal.

I keep pondering the concept of the “support network” that is supposed to be key to the recovery process for us depressives.

And I can’t avoid the conclusion that I don’t really have one.

Not that I totally lack support. My friends support me. I love them and they love me. I know I can count on them. That’s not the issue.

The issue is me and my inability to open up to people. The most important part of a depressed person’s support network is the person or people to whom the patient feels they can talk about absolutely anything wthout fear of negativbe consequences.

I don’t even feel that way about my therapist. I know I should, but I don’t.

I’m the man in the mask, the vile behind the smile, the dark demon who hides behind a brilliant facade. And no matter how much I tell myself that it’s perfectly safe to share (almost) everything with Doctor Costin, I hold back there as well.

I just don’t feel safe enough to grant him access to the dark country of my soul.

I mean, he forgets that I am sick sometimes. He is swept away by my personality like every else is when I focus on them and that means I can’t trust him to shut me down when I unconsciously misdirect things into “the show”.

I need a therapist with the self-discipline to stay focused on our shared therapeutic goals even when I am, without knowing it. tempting them to have fun at my carnival sideshow instead. Someone equipped to keep pushing me when I am resisting and to go right for the jugular when that’s what is best for me.

I can take it. Harsh truths burn away the scrub abd promote new growtth. It might hurt but it makes me stronger in the long run.

In a sense. I need a therapist who is way more of a bastard.

And nobody can get me THAT for my birthday.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.