Not One and The Same.

My calendar is so packed this month and next month… I feel fatigue just thinking about it. Right now trying to plan my fitness schedule in a concrete way is draining. I feel pre-lazy. But once it’s on my schedule, I follow through 100%. So it’s easier for me to permanently ink in my plans.

My predominant feeling these days is tired. Just plain tired. Not fully exhausted, not fully drained – just a little bit on the tired side.

I’ve been non-stop every day. Back to back plans for days and days. I hardly sleep on the weekends. And the weekdays are even more busy and the hours more limited and chance to recoup sleep slim.

I’m no longer unhappy but I’m not happy either. It would take too many words, too many emotions, just plain more than I have to explain. But interestingly I found this post in my archives and it makes me so incredibly angry because I know it reminds me of him.

Some quotes of interest to me this evening:

“Although I feel that my tragedy is the greatest in history—greater than the fall of empires—I am nevertheless aware of my total insignificance. I am absolutely persuaded that I am nothing in this universe; yet I feel that mine is the only real existence.”
— Emil Cioran, On the Heights of Despair
— Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun
The same feeling of not belonging, of futility, wherever I go: I pretend interest in what matters nothing to me, I bestir myself mechanically or out of charity, without ever being caught up, without ever being somewhere. What attracts me is elsewhere, and I don’t know what that elsewhere is.

— E.M. Cioran

The one thing that was sustaining some slight possibility in my heart that love exists is gone, so very gone. And now I see the world through more cruel eyes than before. But I can accept the truth of reality with sad ease and from here forward exist only for myself.

Straight Facts (An Explanation)

I’ve committed multiple acts of betrayal as of late.

I’m just so confused why nothing ever suffices. What am I waiting for to make me happy? Do I even enjoy the moments in which I am happy? Sometimes it feels like I’m just waiting for the moment in which I am miserable again. But then once I’m here everything hurts.

At this point what I wish most is to go back to a different time. But then I sat here and wondered “which time?” All of my time has been filled with such a mixture of both joy and pain that I cannot possibly justify going back to re-experience any of that pain even for a glimmer of that familiar happiness I so crave. Present happiness never suffices. Only past happiness. And future happiness is so uncertain that I immediately disregard it as unreal, impossible.

The only time period that ever seemed perfect was 9th grade. I’ve said that for YEARS AND YEARS. But really there wasn’t much happening extraordinarily back then, but at the same time… nothing bad occurred either. But it was the year before a lot of pain.

I remember 10th grade in blood and tears and pain.

I just looked down and realized I was holding in tears. So I’m crying now.

11th grade was nice. That was the year I moved out of my mom’s house. The year I got really close to Eric H. I think. In 11th grade I may have still been pining for Eric L. Wow… that is just forever ago. Almost laughable. And as soon as I had what I wanted, I no longer wanted it. This may have bled into 12th grade as well.

12th grade was hell. More blood, tears, bruises, etc.

College. I started talking to Matthew before I even started college. Summer just before. My heart just drops. If there’s one thing I wish I could undo it would be this. But the connection was instant. Oh god. But if he and I had just never spoken, I wouldn’t have ever become friends with Steven either.

Fact: I really missed Steven on Sunday. So much so I started crying. But to cry for someone that treated me so poorly is just unacceptable.

Fact: I try very hard to please.

Fact: The people I try to please are 1. not deserving 2. impossible to please 3. people I surround myself with 4. people I am more than happy to make happy. Until finally I am discarded, no longer useful, no longer needed.

Fact: I feel as though I cannot ever make anyone happy because I keep failing no matter how much I try, no matter how much I do, how much I love. It’s not ever enough. My love becomes a basis for rejection. And yet these people constantly ask and ask and ask for more and more love. So much love that I feel as though I will burst with how much love I feel and how little I get in return. Though one of my favorite quotes explains it best.

I have this dream. In this dream there is a man. And though this man is rich, successful, famous, he is unhappy, so very unhappy. He is unhappy because the love around him, the love in the hearts of those he cared for most, was beginning to shrivel and wither away. And this, in turn, made his own heart begin to grow in order to make up for the love that was disappearing around him. And the more the love in the hearts of those around him shriveled up, the bigger his own heart grew in order to make up for the growing emptiness that he now began to feel. So the love kept withering away and his heart kept growing bigger. Until one day there was so little love around him and his own heart so big—it burst into a thousand red petals that filled the sky and fell slowly, so very slowly, to the earth. And the people, his friends, the ones who had withheld their love, began to swallow the petals, these remains of the man’s glorious heart as they fell from the sky. Hungrily, they fed. Greedily, they swallowed. They pushed and shoved each other, gorging themselves on these petals because they felt that then they too would become like the man. Rich, famous, beautiful, lonely …

I can only stay strong so much longer without reciprocation.

There were more facts I wanted to talk about. But time isn’t on my side as per usual.

Face is light and cocaine white.

First step: self-awareness. HELLO. There’s a problem. HELLO. I’ve had a problem.

My guess is this whole hypomanic episode began sometime in late November when my mood started to shift from radiant and happy to irritated. It’s actually around the time I started making horrible decisions. Careless inattention to the future effects of my actions.

I’m going to fucking null and void everything from late November to now.

I’ve also been saying for months, “No more alcohol” and I have yet to succeed… whereas in 2011 I stopped drinking for about 8-9 months without a single problem. This inability to control my willpower is unlike me. My willpower is my strength. I can challenge myself to ANYTHING and I can follow through. But I’ve been setting a goal for myself for months and somehow… just not really going through with it, at all. So something within me shifted.

I haven’t been in complete control of my decision-making.

I know better. And I know that I know better.

Letting myself fall to the influence of others is also unlike me.

GOAL: be more conscious of whatthefuck you’re doing before acting.

Specifics are incredibly hard to reveal to myself right now. But I literally PUT MYSELF IN A DANGEROUS SITUATION without thinking it through. And the consequences ARE/COULD BE/MIGHT HAVE BEEN bad. Like really bad. And in the moment I just didn’t even give a fuck.

I’ve also said some really stupid shit as of late. REALLY STUPID. Things I can’t possibly mean. Things I know I don’t mean. But in my hypomanic state, they seem real. Seemed real? It’s hard to know if I’m still in the aforementioned state.

Fucking christ, though. I honestly cannot believe the stupid shit I’ve done recently. Nowhere in my mind do my recent actions fit in with the person that I am.

What I really need right now is a friend. Not lovers. Friends. I don’t know when my needs changed. In fact… they shouldn’t change. I always and forever need support, stability, and good friends. Lovers don’t give you anything – they just take, take, take – until you’re left shattered in pieces trying to figure out where it all went wrong and why you’re left feeling so broken and incomplete.

Love will never be in my future. So I don’t know why, for a minute, I expected it. Want nothing. Expect nothing. Depend on nothing.

Maybe I just got confused by the sudden surge of people in my life, by the sudden confidence falsely created by my hypomanic episode.

I’m still learning. I’m still learning. Lesson learned.

Loneliness is the worst emotion and perhaps my most frequent as well.