(1st, for some reason I'm really nervous about posting this!?
2nd, Apologies if any of this sounds familiar/repetitive. Some of you will remember a lot of this drivel from an old journal. It's still who I am, and I can't avoid it forever. Personally, I'm sick of hearing/thinking all of it too. Honestly, it disgusts me that I'm not past all this yet...)
So, I actually tried to meditate before bed last night. It was a bit relaxing, but it's going to take a while for it to really accomplish anything. I talked with a friend out in MN Saturday night about how I've been feeling. It didn't really do much, beyond highlighting to me the fact that I've got a problem. I would imagine that if I were to go back to my counselor, he would tell me that I was "clinically depressed" again (still!?).
My friend asked me some questions that I didn't have an answer for - for example, he asked, "if you could do anything you wanted for work, what would it be?". I told him that I didn't care what I did, as long as it pays the bills. He didn't like that answer - he said that I should figure out what I want to do with my life, what would make me happy (regardless of/outside of romantic relationships). I told him I couldn't think of anything that would make me happy. I told him I don't have any dreams, any ambitions; I have no goals in life because nothing really seems that important to me. Essentially, "what does it matter what I do in life, if I've nobody to share it with?".
There was a lot more to the conversation, but that, in essence, is the bit that got me thinking about things. Right now, I honestly don't care what I do; I really don't have any big goals, no ambitions. I could live another hundred years, or just one more day, and it doesn't really matter to me at this point. That's not exactly healthy, is it? It's true, though. The things I do in my life right now, I do because I realy should do them, not because I want to. Hell, even going out, I do because I think I should; I think to myself, "the only way you'll ever meet anyone, or make any friends, is by putting yourself out there.".
I'm feeling very disconnected from people, too. I noticed today, that I honestly don't *feel* like anyone cares about me. I know that a lot of people would argue that they do, and I accept that they feel that way, but I guess I don't feel it. Which, of course, indicates a problem with me, not them. I used to think that I wasn't afraid of anything, not even dying. I think I was wrong - I'm afraid of opening myself up to people again, for fear of being hurt. I can't take the thought of going through the emotional hell I went through when I lost my son, or when my ex left. If I'm being brutally honest with myself, I'm afraid I'll end up like my dad, buying a gun & taking the easy way out. (He had a legitimate reason though, and I don't fault him at all) I know I'm safe now, that I wouldn't do that now, but then, maybe that's why I avoid opening up. I still remember, still feel the anguish, the pain, crying so hard, I honestly thought my heart would stop, wishing it would. I think the reason I fear it so, is because I was completely alone, I had nobody to lean on, no one to rely on, no one to hold me & tell me everything would be alright. I still feel like I don't, although again, I'm sure some would disagree. I've learned to bury the worst of that pain, so that now all it is, is an underlying emptiness. I can deal with that - obviously, not too well, but well enough to live.
I'm even afraid of letting it out again - my old counselor said that crying was good for you, that it allowed you to process your emotions, to move through them. I disagreed then, and I disagree now. never, not once in my life that I can recall, has crying about something (emotionally) done anything for me but make me feel foolish for having done so. Crying is one of the ways humans bond, they say - for me, it seems like a thing that creates isolation. I'm not the guy that cries, never have been. I once freaked out a friend by shedding tears at a mutual friend's funeral - no bawling, no sobbing, just some tears on the cheeks. Seriously, he was so freaked out by it, he had to ask people if I was ok. Think about that - people cry at funerals, but the fact that I did, messed him up so bad he didn't know what to do. *That* is my reputation, *that* is how people see me, *that* is what I've created, who I am.
I don't even know what all of this means, why I'm writing it. I do know that I'm bothered by it enough that I'm looking for positive signs, opening myself to positive energy in the hopes that somewhere, somehow, something makes me care again. For now, though, I'm going to try to do what I *should* do, even though I don't care enough to *want* to, and hope that there's some truth to the saying, "fake it 'til you make it!'.
12:40 p.m. - 2009-09-01
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