Thursday, June 18, 2009


It has been a while since I have last wrote in my blog. The reason is that I simply have not felt the need to write in my journal because life has been, the best word would be, manageable. Resulting emotions have simply been that, okay, but nothing great, nothing good. Sometimes I live my life and it feels like that I am merley skimming the surface of what this world has to offer because I am held back by this depression. Deceiving times of glimpse happiness make me believe that I am over this disease, that the shackles are free and I will never return to the dark, gloomy, prison of my mind that I know far too well. The thought is a fallacy. It is untrue, and always will be. Then I question how much happiness does a person exactly feel in their days? Is happiness rare to experience? Or is it a constant baseline of backround emotion, never in full prominence but not absent. My blog, and its writings, make me think I should be a psychology student, rather than a science one. Thats the problem, though, I do not know what I want. This emotion to desire experiences, events, achievements is lost. Pictures of it should be on the side of milk cartons "HAVE YOU SEEN ******'S DESIRE?" The simplest decisions to conclude are a tedious and bothersome task. The line of thought leads me down a path of cognitive pursuit that makes me ponder whether this all stems my lack of confidence, or, if this lack is caused by the depression. Do I hate my self because of the depression, or is it simply because of the person I chose to be.

I hate my self at times. Validating facts that oppose negative thoughts, beliefs and incapabilities, offer little relief. For example, I feel that I am unattractive, ugly, but women seem to challenge this opinion. I'm cute. I'm hot. It does not cool this damaging belief of mine. I am incredibly unintelligent. I get good grades, but that's just because the professor marks easily, and gives simple exams/tests. These contradicting outcomes, these that oppose my negative views, are temporary. It seems that the negative beliefs are constantly fueled, never ceasing. They are powered by an infinite source.

As I have dated a number of women recently, I am begining to fear that I am unable to feel attraction that exists on a psychological plain. The conversation shared is great, enlightening and comical, but I feel no spark. It is quite difficult to explain that, but I feel no real charge. To me, it only seems like it would be logical to like them, that it would be the correct course of action because they fufill what I apparently perceive to be attractive qualities and features in a mate. I simply feel that I am going through the steps because I should. The attraction, the emotion, it never seems to be the same as I once remembered it. I had a date a few nights ago. She enjoyed it. I, on the other hand, felt quite apathetic for the whole outing. Words parted from her lips and I could not find the energy to concentrate on them. My mind began to wander at all the other many things I would rather be doing at that time. The date then proceeded at my house, where we watched a movie. I sat slumped against my wall, as she laid on my bed. Thoughts began to race intently. I havent finished replaying mass effect. I would rather be on the computer, researching medical schools and course requirements. I would rather be perfecting my schedule for school in Septemeber. I would rather be laying alone and reading. I would rather be going for ice cream by my self. I would rather be at the gym. I would rather be downloading new sets. I would rather be looking for new movies to download. I would rather be with my friends. Later in the night, her body language was quite suggestive but visibly subtle. I guess all those books, ebooks and message boards, about deducing a woman's desires upon her body language were acurate. As we laid across from one another, she became quite forward; her body language became more pronounced. A tug of war in my mind started. Should I kiss her? It makes sense that I should. She is funny, cute, and I have a good time with her, but this weighting notion of there not being a deeper emotional 'spark', 'feeling', whatever you want to call it, pulls forcibly against my logical manner. I sighed, as she peered into my eyes, laughing, smiling. An overwhelming urge to cry struck me down. This is what I wanted, or at least I thought I did. This cute, gorgeous, girl in my bedroom, laying across from me, who seems truly interested in on me on a romantic level. It doesn't fill the void. It does not feel all that great. It seems its as unchallenging to dismiss as a simple shrug of the shoulders. More intuition is learned about my emotions, and my functioning on a psychological level. The areas that in my life that appear to be lacking are focused and dwelled upon. These insuffiences are what hold me back, are what make me think is the key, is the answer, is the cure, but they're not. I have what I wanted, and I am still depressed. I am still unhappyy. I am still depressed. It is an unending defeating cycle. What am I suppose to say? I should like you, but I don't. I'm not sure if it because of the depression, or youre just not what I'm lookng for.

Monday, June 1, 2009


Sometimes makes it all worthwhile


Some days I question the validity of being honest, and how important it really is in my daily life. Being depressed sometimes forces a person to focus entirely on themselves, eluding all others from your thoughts. Thoughts being solely devoted to why am I this way, why do I feel so broken, why do I want to kill my self. All of it, and all of the energy you invest into your self, causes you to forget about others, the people who are around you or the support group I would have if I just opened up. It is my disease, but I know that is does affect the people around me; I know they suffer needlessly because I do as well, because I cant swallow the fact that I suffer from a mental illness. I still denie to this day that I am 'depressed'. I am not depressed; I'm just growing up. Depressed people take SSRI's, they have been hosptailized, they don't lead normal and functioning lives, like I apparently do. They have pysychaitrists, they have treatment plans. They have a support group, or so it seems. To me, none of these things exist in my life. Therefore, I can't be depressed. It just might be my ego, praying to maintain a sense of dignity and strength, or it might that my emotions are so volatile I can't even recognize what I reguarly feel.

I feel like I lead a normal life. I go to the gym. I eat well. I'm not poor. I regularly date. I have possessions. I have goals. I just have no desire to attain them. I guess 'normal' people do not feel like killing themselves, or imagine ditching their car doing 160KM/h on the highway into a centre median. The resultant picture of my dead body smeared across the pavement is comforting, knowing that this pain will cease, that it will end, is comforting. It makes me happy to imagine that I will be dead one day because it means, simply, this pain will stop. My life will stop. I do not have the courage to 'pull the trigger' though.

Am I a deceitful person because I hide this from the people I love, the people I know? Does that make me a liar? Or does it just not make me honest? Am I expected to tell my family these things? I hardly believe that any parent wants to hear their son speak about their suicide ideation, and their plans to end their life. No one wants to hear anything like that.
Lately I have been dating a lot of women, meeting them off the net and trying to share an experience. I have met 4 so far, and this will I am supposed to meet another 2, bringing the count to 6, but I simply do not feel like meeting these two next girls because of one reason, rejection or what I believe is rejection that has not happened yet. On saturday, I met a girl, whose company I really enjoyed. She was really cute, funny, and everything I thought she wouldn't be; accordingly, I went into the date being a skeptic, since she was from the net. The date went well, at least I thought so. That is exactly what I thought about ******* and she flat out rejected me. I sent her an email, saying I had a good time and we should get together again. She has not responded, but I have seen she has been checking her mail on the site we met on. She has not been on msn either. It did take her some time to respond to the last email, but the logistics for our plans depended on it. I'm so unsure.
This is the point of it all, though. It did not matter to me saturday night, why? Saturday night I had a date with a different girl. We had a good time. I sent her a text afterwards, also saying that I enjoyed the date and we should get together once again. She never responded. I panicked. My world was turned upside down. Later that night, I was hanging out with a friend and he said he sent me a text earlier, but I never received it. It turns out my phone was malfunctioning. The girl also replied to my text message, but I thought she had rejected me. I remember anxiously checking my phone every so often, just incase the audible warning stopped working for some unfeasible reason. My mind racked with panic, worry, fear. My emotions depending on this outcome, this sign indication that I was not rejected. The same shit occurs all the time. I thought another girl had rejected me, but she didnt. I still turned my world upside down with negativity.
When I reflect upon this date on saturday, the first one, I remember feelings of doubt, feelings of uncertainity about how I felt. The spark was not there, but it certaintly seemed to be. This sounds a bit difficult to interpret, but, please, let me clarify. I remember such behavior in earlier years would have definitely signified my brain to scream attraction, chemistry, connection, but this behavior, this time, did not. All the other dates I have went on have not produced this feelings either, but I'm starved of it. I want to believe its there so bad, I'll reproduce the feeling by exaggerated memories and images and ideas of things that happened on the dates that do, indeed, promote it. It is all uncertainty. The girl I went out with saturday night, I am suppose to see again sometime this weekend, but I'm not even sure if I like her. The one I'm afraid currently rejected me, I'm not sure if I like her either, but I really want to because she seems to fit the mold of what I tell my self I like in a woman. I question whether or not I can truly feel anything anymore because of the depression, if I'm just numb to everything and everyone because of it.
The next question I have to ask is what do I do now? Do I see this girl? I obviously find her attracted, and that pretty much means I would not mind having sex with her, but at what emotional cost will she have to endure from this decision. She finds me attractive. All I have to do is push, and wait. Sex will happen eventually, if not with her, then someone else, but, like any other man or person, I am impatient and I resort to focusing solely on my self and my needs. Should I tell her how I feel, even though I am truly uncertain about how I feel towards her or anyone else. Should I tell her I think I am incapable of feeling any emotion towards a person that denote a sense of connectivity between each other. People around me tell me that I am a man and it is my duty to have sex. I should be getting laid, and as with as many women as possible. I have been hurt before; I'm pretty much hurt all the time. This creates caution in my actions and my thoughts. It makes me wonder. It makes me second guess things. I know even if this girl responds to my email, sure, it will help me feel better temporarily, but it will just be on to the next one who does not seem to find me attractive, or who takes too long to respond to a text, or a email, for me to just think shes rejecting me and I'll be solely focused on her. OMG. Someone does not like me? Nooooooooo. I'm so self centred and self invovled; it makes me fucking sick. I only want someone when they do not want me. I only want something when it seems I can not get it. I am never ever content with the way things are. Nor do I think I ever will be.