I need to write. I’ve felt the need for several weeks now
but haven’t been able to sit still long enough to do something about it. Well,
I just got back from lunch and have been struggling to focus on anything for
any length of time due to a deep sadness of some sort. I say deep because I
feel/ sense/ know it’s there, but can’t access it. I need to cry, but I can’t
call the catharsis into being. I’ve got too many demands on my attention and
right before I start being able to be still and silent for any length of time,
something happens. An e-mail dings, my girlfriends needs something (need
meaning casual “hello” or text), a coworker asks me a question, I have to get
something else done, my body starts to ache, I need to use the restroom, and on
and on and on….
With my talk therapist Dr. LeGrice bringing up my tendency
of dissociation last week (she was very reluctant to do so because she didn’t
want to disturb or frighten me with some of the really bad and extreme elements
often associated with the idea of dissociation), which I fully agree with upon
hearing the word—the perfect word for how I’ve felt my entire life—combined with
the many niggling things on my conscious. It’s started to bother me more than
normal that I just “blehed” it away. I feel bad, but not bad (dissociated from
the emotion/ feeling), and I think the bad feeling is some combination of
sadness and regret and possibly disappointment, but I can’t access it to figure
out what or why. And being so incapable at access this is further compounding
to the bad feelings.
Today I’ve been so distracted that I’ve taken care of dozens
of tasks and little to-do items both work and personal related. I can’t get my mind
to stay on anything in particular—such as my planned tasks before me
(conceptual for Pleasant Valley)—for more than a few minutes so I took an early
lunch (left about 5-till 11) and went to Riskey’s because I could get an
isolated seat and be quiet. I couldn’t even focus enough to mess with my phone
idly. I finished eating in about 10 minutes and then forced myself to sit and
finish another glass of tea while enjoying the quiet as best I could. The
result is this writing.
I was mostly thinking about how upsetting it was to not be
able to access my feelings—despite knowing it’ll probably take several months
to address properly—and wandered across a bunch of other thoughts regarding
violin, Rebekah’s degree, work lack of focus, exercise, not having time…. Then
I decided I would just write. So I came back to the office and here I am. If
you haven’t noticed I’m still distracted, and feel (think really) I’m running
from what I sat down with the intention to confront. So…perhaps a way to ease
into this is to bring up the Babylon 5 questions: Who are you? And what do you want? The first
is being explored by therapy and my letting go of the past and trying to define
myself in a post Venlafaxine (the very effective antidepressant I’m taking)
world. I’m discovering how to live life to the fullest and what it means to
have vitality (what Andrew Solomon’s TED Talk entitled, “Depression, The Secret
We Share” for more understanding of what I mean). Who I am is part what I was,
where I am now and who I want to be.
What I want is a bit more whimsical because they are hard to
acquire and hold desires. Part of what my mind is trying to run (dissociate)
from. I need to pee and will hopefully return.
Icon for Hire probably says it best in their song Iodine, “I
want to be healthy, but I turn up the noise….” That’s what I want most, to be
healthy. Mentally, physically, and spiritually healthy.
Since physical health is probably the easiest to address, I’ll
start there. I want (trying to avoid the word “need”) to eat better overall. More
fruits and veggies, with a wide compliment of grains. More importantly I want
to eat appropriately portioned meals with a balance between meat, veggies,
grains and fruit daily. Over time it would be ideal to graduate slowly towards
an almost vegetarian diet again (meat only one meal a day) with plenty of
yogurt for gut consistency. By diet, I mean the sum of all foods typically
eaten, not an idiotic self-limitation to lost weight or a medically necessary
restriction. I want my diet to be varied and colorful. After that I want to
exercise more, both weights and cardio. I want to be stronger because I’m tired
of feeling weak and useless all the time. When I lift consistently, I feel more
comfortable with myself, as if I accomplished something or could go accomplish
something with ease. My body aches less, cracks pops less, and moves around
better. I want to run more often because I really like it. When I was
consistently running I had fewer problems with allergies and sinus, my gerd and
acid reflux (heartburn) went away, I slept better, my appetite shrank (I was
less inclined to gorging and would actually feel full when I ate). It got even
easier to move around, my asthma stopped bothering me and probably a bunch of
other things too. Oh, my sexual health improved a great deal. When I masturbated
I had the most intense orgasms I ever had in my life (actually felt satisfying
and relaxing) and produced a good amount of ejaculate. I also masturbated a lot
less often because I wasn’t as depressed. Bike riding is just fun. It’s like a
very very easy running that helps my running improve. I also have more friends who
are willing to ride with me than run, so I get more socializing out of it—even though
I’m still slow. Out of everything though, I want to run. That’s the activity I
feel the real longing for. And this desire to run makes me want to lift
weights, bike, eat better, build my mobility and flexibility and just be better
overall. It’s peaceful, calming, exciting and encouraging all at once. I’d like
to get to the point where 10k’s and half-marathons aren’t a big deal to me.
Being able to run a marathon is also a wonderfully lofty goal I’d like to one
day achieve if I can rebuild the discipline.
Running is the primary health goal and all others support
it. It is very disappointing when I don’t make the time and even more so when I
have the time but bleh out instead (usually to sit around) or make lame excuses
not to go. It doesn’t bother me when I go out to run but stop because I’m not
feeling it, because at least I took the opportunity and made the effort. The
same goes for the gym as well.
In the mental realm of things, I really want to play my
violin, read, write, get smarter and other stuff I can’t think of right now. I
really don’t know the words for what I want with writing. It’s always been the
best way for me to express myself fully. I can often write better what’s on my
mind than talk with someone about it. It seems to be a vehicle which distracts
my mind and occupies my body just enough to let the stuff trapped in my head
escape. There’s a power in writing to calm and organize and declutter the mind,
leaving me to feel soothed. I’ve had the urge to write for several months now.
I even started a blog to help encourage me to write. The only problem has been
a lack of time. The same lack of time that contributes to my inability to be
still long enough to access whatever my mind is trying to hide from me. I’ve
had a few moments where I felt the urge to write and was in a state to actually
take advantage of it and then Andy decides to be sociable, or Rebekah leaned on
me making it too difficult to type or (most often) it was already past bedtime
or I needed to get to work. These same lack of time excuses come up for me for
almost everything I want to do but don’t (including video games).
Reading is a hard one to do, not because of a lack of time,
but interest and focus. Granted I write this after starting and finishing Starship
Troopers and several technical papers this week. But I still want to read more.
Partly for the escapism it provides, but also to learn and improve myself. I’ve
got several power books that will help me improve at work, but haven’t actually
read. Surprisingly, I’m just now realizing, while I desire this it doesn’t
really bother me that I’m not actively pursuing reading as much as I could be.
That’s good news. I’ve just felt a bit of relief come over me, and I smiled
some.
Violin is a biggie for me. It’s one of my childhood regrets
(stopping just because I was depressed) that I’m correcting via lessons. I wish
I practiced more and want and need to practice more even when I play dreadfully
I enjoy it. If I never practice and go to my lesson, sucking up all over the
place, feeling bad about not practicing, it is still the highlight of my week.
It’s probably the one thing in my life that consistently makes me happy. The
sound, the feel. The ringing! Even thinking about playing right now is lifting
my spirits. I feel a restful/ joyful continence coming over me. It’s a nice
feeling. It still bothers me a lot when I don’t play. It’s usually for silly
reasons like getting distracted, or not silencing my brain enough or feeling
bad/ tired.
The spiritual aspect is the least urgent and concerning to
me because over the past several years I’ve grown calloused and indifferent to
most matters of faith. I long ago gave up on finding a church with a good bible
study (not a bible teaching or extra-biblical book study). I also gave up on
finding a church where the pastor/ priest/ minister/ whatever uses the bible in
context to support/ begin the days sermon AND doesn’t express the superiority of
their church or denomination (I’ve yet to see both in the same person). Hell, I’m
even almost to the point of giving up trying to find Christian community in churches—which
is the only reason I keep trying to go. I know part of this is my own doing
because of my depression, being introverted and general stand-offish-ness; but I
need help getting involved. I’ve got so many hurts and hang-ups from the church
it’s hard for me to get “plugged in.” Luckily I’ve still got Ginger, Patrick,
Walter, Andy and Ryan to keep my embers of faith from being fully snuffed. Oh,
and God too I guess. The more I fail to find God in the church and I the lives
of Christians I meet, the more I wonder if faith is just a self-delusion, the
more I wonder if it’s worth trying to sustain, the more I regret making the
choice to follow God. It hurts a lot to see the person I used to look up to the
most, Matt, post crap on Facebook that (to me at least) indicates he’s
forgotten what compassion is, what mercy and grace mean, who Jesus is. It hurts
to see the person who had the most influence on building the foundation of my
faith openly oppose what he taught me about the character of God though sexist,
semi-racist and classist (elitist?) comments over the past seven years. It’s
been discouraging. Sadly I’ve generally accepted this at this point, and am no
longer as bothered by my weakened faith as I once was except for Sundays when I
try to seek God though Christian community. I still pray (feebly) and read my
Bible (once a month or so), but this isn’t a part of the big pain and grief I’m
to access through my writing (not that it doesn’t contribute somewhere in my
life).
I’m feeling a sense of loss and relief right now. As if I’ve
misplaced something precious, can’t find it, but know it will came back
eventually.
I also feel a desire to volunteer again rising. I should
call Becky (a kind woman I met a few weeks ago) at the food bank to find a
place for myself to contribute. My impulse is to attribute this feeling to God.
If I can’t find Him through the church, perhaps I’ll find Him through civics.
Now that my mind seems to have been pacified, last week I was
looking over my finances and seeing that I had way overspent this month for
various planned and unplanned reasons, I noticed that I still spent well over
$1,000 on food this month. I don’t think this alone was the reason I wanted to
cry, but it certainly was the tipping point. I was just so disappointed in
myself and all my perceived failures I felt profoundly sad. Then right as I felt
the tears start to form, it all disappeared and I felt nothing, but the
negative side of nothing. Normally that would be that and I’d think nothing of
it (that’s the sub-conscious’ job, right?), but this happened right after my
talk with Dr. LeGrice about my tendency to dissociate. As I alluded to earlier,
I immediately identified with the term and her description of how she thought
it applied to me. My entire life I’ve never quite felt like I belonged. I felt/
feel alone when I’m with friends, family and loved ones. When in a group, even
ones I put together for something, I have a feeling f not actually being a part
of it. Like I’m somehow detached or separated from it all and shouldn’t be
there, or like I’m intruding on others and they are merely tolerating me. When
it comes to emotions I typically feel nothing. I use nothing instead of neutral
because looking inward I would (do) see a void rather than something that
balanced out to neutral. I mostly faked emotions based on what I learned from
books, TV and movies.
Anyway, having just talked about it, I recognized the
dissociation in progress I tried to recall the feeling and figure out where it
came from. So here I am less than a week later on my tenth page of writing for
3 and ½ consecutive hours, almost on the verge of getting it out of my head and
down ono paper, and my mind is still trying to distract me from the potential
pain.
I’ve just had a few minutes of no thoughts….
The personal finances issue is definitely just one of many
things bothering me. I’m disappointed that I lack the discipline to spend less,
to get to work before 7:30, to exercise, to play my violin, to be aroused and
feel it when making out with my girlfriend, to read, to play games or watch Netflix,
to sleep consistently, to prepare my meals, to spend the time I make for things
actually doing those things. To stay focused on work while at work (I’ve been better
overall, but not this week), to prepare the final 6 toastmaster speeches I need
to do, to work on my graduate portfolio, to read for fun, to write, to read for
work, to spend quality time with Rebekah or friends, to do laundry, to clean in
general, to get my car detailed, to spend time with family, to do the minimum
stretching necessary every day to keep from hurting, to brush my teeth, shave or
shower regularly. To eat breakfast, to volunteer, to write letters to friends,
to rest and spend some time in quiet….
I didn’t intend to make a list, but it finally spilled out.
I’m sure there’s more, like wanting to talk with Rebekah about a couple of
topics, but at the core it seems my sadness, the disappointment in myself,
seems to stem from what I’m not doing and why. Probably my personal sense of
failure too—which clearly (at least clearly right now in this moment) stems
from relating what I have done to what I need to do and what I perceive I need
to do. I guess I’m not really a failure, I just know I could do ore, and when I
don’t, I automatically jump to “I’m failure at x” because that’s how I’ve been
conditioned to think by my dad’s abuse and all the other mental traumas I was
subjected to in my youth.
I’m feeling a lot better. I think relief is prevalent more
than anything else. I also feel a bit of eagerness creeping in.
So apparently I’m not a failure and shouldn’t be disappointed
in myself for not having/ making enough time for everything. While I could be
doing more, what I am doing I’m succeeding at. What I will be doing, I’m also succeeding
at. I’m looking forward to posting this and using that list to make a more
organized action item list, since things like making a meal plan and budgeting
can be done rather easily, while running, violin and sleep can be main focuses
for whenever I have some extra time. Naturally Rebekah will need to be worked
into it all as well.
I’m feeling a lot better now, a bit of happiness at the
success of connecting with my emotion a bit—even though it took several days
and finally being broken down to write even though I should be working (I’ll come
in on Saturday morning or Sunday afternoon to make up the time).
This was a good day I think. I’m happy with it and am really
tired now. I might even skip the show and go to bed early tonight. Four and a
half hours of writing really takes it out of you.
P.S. I skipped going to see Kinky Boots. I gave my ticket to
my neighbor and sent her in my place. I feel so wretched right now. I hope she
goes and enjoys it. The thought of wasting the money on the ticket would make
me feel so much worse right now. I just want to stop trying and stop doing
everything, but I don’t want to, but I’m so tired of trying to find the point
in doing anything at all. Why do I keep having these moments where it’s so very
hard to do anything at all? I just want to quit, but I can’t and then I just
fight myself so very much. I hate it, and I hate this misery. I just don’t know
why I should bother trying. Rebekah’s said she was coming over for dinner.
Perhaps some hot food and sleep will help…. I just don’t want to try anymore,
but I can’t not try, and now I’m paralyzed. I’m laying down now.
10/30/2015
So, after dinner last night I tried to lay down, but decided
to play a video game instead because I was in a slightly better, but still
drained, mood. I played for a bit, then I put on Raising Hope and started
coloring. It was a good way to sink my focus into something unrelated to my
thoughts. I woke up this morning feeling great again. Not necessarily happy,
but definitely positive—on the good side of neutral—at the least. I was still
distracted at work today, didn’t really accomplish anything at all, but in much
better spirits. I feel restored.
