Veering between depression and nihilistic rage at the moment.
I feel a strong urge to thump something very hard. My head hurts and it’s very hard to think. My mind is full of tire fire smoke and gritty ash, and it hurts when I blink. My body feels weird, like I am not quite in it and it’s beginning to wander off on its own.
But whatever. This too shall pass. It’s probably just a bad combination of the fact that I just woke up and the fact I hadn’t eaten in eight hours giving me low blood sugar. I am eating as a blog, so the blood sugar thing should fix itself soon enough.
As for the usual waking up bullshit, only time awake can fix that.
Well, that, and precious, life-giving Diet Coke.
So I will feel better-ish soon. I might need more sleep as of yet, though, because I did not get my usual main snooze because I had one of my rare but unpleasant attacks of insomnia. I just could not get to sleep.
So I had to get up for a while.
Eventually, I finally got tired enough to lay down and sleep at around 11:30 am. Woke up around 2 pm. That’s only to and a half hours of sleep.
I’m gonna need a lot more than that.
I just hope this doesn’t end up screwing with my sleep schedule, inasmuch as I have one. I mean, I suppose there are worse things than sleeping in the afternoons, but still.
I’d like to keep at least some tiny shred of predictability in my life.
Because I am still pretty sleepy, the words, they do not come easy. My mind keeps wandering and I have to drag my attention back to the screen and all those cute little black words I put on it.
I think my mind is trying to find a back door into sleep. Like it’s trying to sneak away and go back to sleep, and I have to keep catching it and making it make the words.
And it does not like that.
350 words so far. 150 to go, I can do this.
I am growing more and more dissatisfied with my life. Video games just aren’t enough any more. I get bored in the middle of playing them.
In fact, I think this long quest to find my Next Big Game is pure decadence on my part. Remember, I define decadence as trying to meet a higher need by lower means.
A classic example would be people who crave intimacy, but for whatever reason can’t or won’t acknowledge that, so they try to substitute having lots and lots of sex instead.
In my case, I think I am trying to fulfill my need for more in life via this hunt for the “right” game. That’s why I keep buying, trying, and returning games.
Could be that that game I am looking for doesn’t exist. Or it does exist, but it’s called “actually having a life” and it’s a game that I have felt was too hard for me for forever.
Time to man up and play, I guess.
More after the break.
Surprise plot twist!
I’m still pretty depressed.
Feeling pretty dark and rage-y. Listening to Nine Inch Nails helped a little. But I still have a dark flame burning in my chest and harsh and heatless light shining in my brain.
Then again, maybe it’s just heartburn.
More likely is that I am still not caught up on sleep and that is weighing down my mood. That will sort itself out eventually, I suppose.
I slept too much.So I stopped taking my sleeping pill. Then I slept too little. So tonight I will be taking the pill again.
I’m a study in contrasts and extremes.
hatever the cause, fuck it. It’s just depression. It comes and goes as it pleases. I don’t really give a shit. I just ignore it when it’;s around.
Like yeah, it’s there, and I validate and acknowledge that.
But that doesn’t mean I have to let it ruin my fun.
And that’s what I want out of life. Fun. I want to enjoy myself. I think that, despite a childhood spent amusing myself alone, I never really learned how to have fun in the broader sense of the term.
There’s a limit to how much fun you can have by yourself. Even with porn.
But then again, that’s my big, big problem : I did everything by myself. I am by nature a highly independent and self-possessed kind of person, but it went way way too far.
Even an INTJ like myself needs the warmth of human contact. A solitary childhood is a terrible thing. There are so many thing I never learned. Priceless inputs I never got. I never had to figure out how to find a place in the human community.
I just did my own thing, by myself, and some very important parts of me died like neglected house plants as a result.
If I could go back in time and talk to my younger self around age 6, I would, of course, tell him to stop being such a whiny little pussy and man up.
But more importantly,. I would tell him to bend a little. Give a little. Adapt a little. Surrender a little of that precious autonomy in order to have friends and get along with people your age.
And above all, learn to fit in. Not in the sense of totally surrendering your independence. But this is not a binary situation. There is a lot of grey area between total autonomy and mindless conformity. If you keep trying, you will find your own balance between the two.
Just like everyone else does.
When I look back on my cold,. cold childhood, I can see how inflexible I was. I guess the lack of kindergarten and kids my own age to play with meant I never learned how to negotiate my space within a group, and that left me way behind other kids who had more involved parents and more playtime with peers.
And i still haven’t caught up. I don’t know if I ever will. I have a terrible fear that my social damage is now permanent and that there is no way for me to learn to open up and be more flexible and accommodating at this stage.
But I know that, somewhere deep inside me, the spark of life is still burning, and the happy friendly warm kid I was before the rape is still within me, waiting to be born.
So I am going to keep on trying to excavate myself, no matter what it takes.
I just hope I can get to myself before I run out of air.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.