Sunday, June 15, 2008


My day has tripped along at an uneven pace. I kept wishing I could just have my life back. It's been like that for a while now. I've been doing all I can to get back into the flow of things (at least now I have) but I feel helpless. I'm in an un-enjoyable waiting time. I've done all I can, and all I am able to do now is trudge day by day back towards some modicum of normalcy. I've been sick this week which can't have helped my mood.
I don't mind the hard work, I just wish it wouldn't take so damn long. I really wish that all that I came up against stayed constant. I wish that the only problems I had to deal with were getting back to school and getting well. That of course isn't the case, and with debt, bills, and the general bullshit the world has to offer me, of course things don't feel right.
I am in a position to complain, I shouldn't. It won't do me any good, but I suppose that philosophy didn't do me any good while I was going crazy. I sometimes think about putting my fist through a wall. That's the key odd thing that pops into my brain as of late. I picture my hand slamming into plaster and the small fissures formed in the plaster, the slow-motion tearing of my skin. I picture my knuckles compressing along with the wall. I see the sharp edges scratch at the edges of my hand and wrist. It's a very involved picture. This is in a few seconds mind you. It takes longer to describe than it does to see and feel and think. I get somewhat convinced that I'm going to do this. I really _want_ to do this. It's just an obsessive thought, but it describes pretty well how I'm feeling. I just want to destroy something, my own well being be damned. I just want to fuck shit up. It isn't very rational. I try to be rational as often as possible. It doesn't make me very popular, though I suppose most of that is actually due to my lack of tact. I just want to destroy something. I imagine it's not an uncommon feeling among young men. Angry young men seem to be the norm. I just want to destroy something. Shooting things in video games only does so much.
I was having a particularly low bout in the middle of the day (the early evening by all actual accounts) I went and finally got a French-press, and made some coffee. It increased my jitters, but I felt somewhat better. That reminds me of another thing which bothers, the damn side effects from my drugs. The sexual side effects have been much less marked as of late. The details are unnecessary to go into. The shaking hasn't gotten better. It's not bad enough for me to lower the dose, especially as I'd rather have a bit of shaking than be confined to bed for days at a time.
I'm just fucking tired of everything. If I can't be well, and be with Julie, then I don't want to let the world be okay. I want to fuck things up. It's not ok for me to sit here doing nothing, being despondent. I need to fucking do something. It all stays pent up though, because what outlet is there? physical outlets don't do it (and this week I've been sick so of course those have been out). It's just something I don't know how to deal with. Anxiety, Fear, Helplessness, and Anger are my bedfellows. They get capitilisations because they are entities within themselves. I don't know how to deal with any of them. All of them are building. All of the signs point towards more of the same, or at the best a gradual incline towards something better.

I know that most of this ranting is in fact false. I know that I can do things, but I can't help but feel useless. I work, and I come home and that's it. I sometimes end up late on bills, and sometimes end up overdrawn on accounts. It's all really annoying, but ultimately this is what I have to do to get back to my feet. I have to trudge along like everyone else, and keep in the flow that the world requires of me. It's the only way I'll get the things I want, my sanity and a life with Julie (or at least a part of my life with Julie). I just have to continue working. I just wish the world didn't make it so damn hard.

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