Finished

Wow.  I just finished reading “The Alchemist” and my mood is much better now.  I have the power within me to take on life’s challenges and embark on my own Personal Legend.  That book was AWESOME.  This is my 2nd time reading it.  The 1st time I read it, the final sentence brought me very close to tears.  It was grand.  Everyone should embark on spiritual journeys in order to better understand themselves.  I realize now that I’ve been denying my Personal Legend because I was afraid.  I am no longer afraid.

The Alchemist

Here I sit, smoke in one hand, scotch in the other.  I’m home today because last night, after Canada Day celebrations, I came home and decided to read before bed.  I ended up reading until 2 am, so I took the day off work so I could sleep in.

The book I’m reading is “The Alchemist” by Paulo Coelho.  For those of you who haven’t read it, YOU NEED TO.  It’s the most inspiring tale I have ever read.  It’s addictive.

It makes me think about my own Personal Legend is.  For years now I’ve been a mess.  Since being a young boy, my hyperactive mind caused me to think — too much.  That in turn caused my anxiety disorder, which took it’s toll early on and caused my depressive disorder.

I’ve realized that I have pushed most of my friends away from me.  When I reconnect I have to tell them “I’m doing well,” or “I’m alright,” even though it’s essentially a continuing lie.  I need to shape up, I’ve been telling myself that for years.  How am I supposed to live out my personal legend when I’m in such a mess.

“The Alchemist” reminds me of “The Secret,” where the universe conspires to give you what you desire if you really truly believe it and live it.  I need to stop smoking, I need to stop drinking and smoking weed, I need to lose weight, and I need to stop sabotaging my own success.  I need to start succeeding.  I need to find myself and put myself back on track to realizing my Personal Legend.  When I first thought, “I need to blog this afternoon,” I had a vague idea of how to eloquently convey my thoughts, but ultimately, now that I’m here, I’m at a loss for words.

I need to start learning to properly converse with people.  I’ve been trying for years, but what I’ve learned up until now just seems inauthentic.  I feel like I’m acting.  It isn’t natural.  Amid all of the people here in the world, I feel alone with myself.  I feel like nobody can understand me, even though just a few days ago I met someone who actually does understand.  I pushed her away too.

I think the only solution is to continue reading.  That’s it for now, I’m going to finish this book.

Sabotage

No, not the Beastie Boys song, I’m talking about my subconscious mind.  It seems that I’ve felt so shitty for so long that the one remaining element I need to conquer is my subconscious mind.

I sabotage myself every opportunity I get.  With women, with my health, and with my political activities.  I need to lose weight.  It’s a sad but true fact.  I also need to stop letting my emotions take control of me.  I need to be the one controlling them.  I had something deep and meaningful to write here, but that was yesterday and now it’s today and I’ve forgotten.  **sigh** when will I learn?

Just in case…

If a specific new reader to my blog wants to email me, they should click on “About Arphaxad” to the right (below “Information”) and read the directions on that page to find out my email address (considering they do not have facebook). Or they should leave a comment (and enter their real email address in the appropriate field) so I can send them a message back.

I think we should continue filling up that clean slate.

I can’t even begin to describe how AWESOME today was. Well, I can definitely begin to describe it but suffice to say the day involved new friends, cute girls, psychology, marijuana, a kick-ass parade, a random chance meeting, age differences, water guns, the colour green, conversation, chilling, beer, random sisters of current friends, some guy named Jason, and lots of intelligent conversation. I definitely had difficulty keeping myself from hitting on the aforementioned cute girl (there IS a good reason). Wow what a mind though! She’s incredibly intelligent; she’s smart beyond her years in fact. She’s been through similar experiences as me and I’m sure we related well to each other. It would be great to share writings.

I fear that this blog will be disappointing for her to read. I don’t talk (type?) about anxiety nearly to the degree that would be ideal. I simply muse and vent my anxious thoughts for the world to read. On here my writing is far less eloquent than epic. It is difficult to admit, but right now I find myself in a blurred gray area between what is appropriate and what is aberrant.

She doesn’t date, well, she does date, she just doesn’t call it that. Would I dare date her? Would I dare even try? I’m torn. I’m also anxious. I promised myself this blog would be a direct account of my mind. I’ve already held too much back and at the same time I’ve already said too much. This cute girl said she doesn’t really think about age. It would be really damned convenient right now if I could manage to do the same.

Damn it. This is the first post where I censored my thoughts because I’m afraid of the truth. I’m afraid of admitting that I have a crush on her. Is that such a bad thing? The answer is, “Yes, yes it is.” I fear it will be months before I’ll be able to feel differently. However, in the realm of what is right, that may not be such a bad thing.

I’m also incredibly empowered because I have the opportunity to share what I’ve learned with a brilliant young mind. I have the opportunity to help her, to teach, to inspire, and to heal. I don’t know if I’m ready to wield the power that I have: “With great power comes great responsibility.”

I’m not sure if my two sets of feelings are mutually exclusive, or if I could combine them. My mind is working overtime, one train of thought is thinking, “How do I hook up with her?” and another train of thought is thinking, “How do I prevent myself from hooking up with her?” What a conundrum. Yet another train of thought speaks with exasperation, “Why the fuck are you letting this bother you? Just chill the fuck out.” A fourth cautiously realizes that I don’t know what I’m wishing for, and for that reason, I should, “Be careful what [I] wish for, because [I] just might get what [I] want.”

I only subtly insinuated my anxious thoughts once or twice earlier when we were talking at the Hot Box Café. I’m really at a loss. I don’t know what to think.

The only positive thing I can think that can come of this blog post, is to (hopefully?) cock block myself. “When in doubt, take the high road,” or something similar but more eloquently put. That notwithstanding, I love danger — I laugh in its face. I’m very Simba like that. haha

I hope I wasn’t too honest. Actually, come to think of it, I really do.

Morals suck… I hate how necessary they are.

All of these crazy thoughts aside (in an attempt to negate them for the time being), the conversation from earlier today should definitely continue. Cheers to new friends!

Bouncing

11:25 am

Oh I’m fighting it. This depression is eating away at me but I’m soldiering onward. I’m currently fighting the urge to go buy smokes. I hate smoking. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. Cigarettes are evil. Damn them for being the only legal method of hurting myself. Damn this pain for being so alluring. Damn everything. Damn myself for not being stronger. Damn my luck with women. Damn my coworker for being so unattainable. Damn my perceptions that are probably horribly inaccurate. Screw it. Damn everything.

You know what? In my cubicle I put up a few inspirational quotes. One of them is a Japanese proverb which reads, “Fall seven times, stand up eight.” After I put it up I noticed that it’s not quite that wise. In order to stand up eight times, you need to fall eight times. If you only fall seven times, then standing up seven times will suffice to get you back on your feet. Who came up with this stuff and who was their math teacher?

1:10 pm

Damn it. I forgot to submit a renewal at work today and now I don’t know what I did or didn’t do with it. I’m doing all of the steps over again but I’m worried that because I screwed up, they won’t keep me past my 3 month probationary period. F*** F*** F***… I can’t lose this job. I’m having a horrible day. I started smoking again. Why? Not because cigarettes will solve any of my problems, but because I’m depressed and what do I do when I’m depressed? I want to hurt myself… so I smoke. I hate fighting, I wish I could just surrender and give up. Damn society for not letting me.

5:55 pm

Life is great. My coworker and I are probably going for drinks next Monday. Two thumbs up for that!! I’m in a good mood, my duties at work are being handled, and even though I’ve started smoking again, I know that I’ll be able to quit.

This may not be bi-polar disorder, but the ups and downs definitely make it feel real. Maybe I’m just fighting my depressive habitual thinking so it feels like I’m bi-polar?

Like a wee little boat on the stormy seas…

Up and down I go.  Up one day, down the next.  A bit of recovery one day, dashed upon the rocks the next.

I don’t know how much more of this I can take.  The downs are horrible.  They are deep and dark and everything that I never want to feel.  I don’t know if it’s because I’m still getting over my strep throat, or if it’s because I took my medication late today, but I feel like crap.

I feel like I’ll never even get the chance to date my 32 year old coworker, but in all fairness, it’s not as if I’ve actually tried.  What the fuck am I waiting for?  Christmas?!?  On that thought…  Christmas may be a good time to make a move…  haha

I’m also upset because I’m worried that the cute girl I met at the doctor’s office last Thursday won’t email me back.  Granted, I only JUST emailed her now (mostly because of my anxiety and my ADHD/procrastination), but she was really awesome.  I wish I could describe all of what I discovered during that short 5 minute conversation, but words are sometimes imprecise and insufficient.  She has a head on her shoulders, she’s studying psychology (a favourite hobby of mine), she has a brother with ADHD, she has ADHD characteristics herself, she loves my political party, she’s excitable and talkative, and she was really easy to talk to.  Also, she’s pretty much my age AND she lives close by.  What more could I ask for?

I could ask for better emotions, that’s what.  When asked about his secret to success with women, Sean Connery replied, “Confidence, confidence, confidence.”  So if confidence is all I need, what the fuck am I going to do seeing as I have a) an anxiety disorder, b) a depressive disorder, c) ADHD, d) problems with procrastination, and e) a history of underachieving?  I’m not exactly a shining example of confidence.  I’m screwed.  Tony Robbins helps me a bit, but I cannot seem to sustain the good feelings he sustains in me.  I’m too comfortable with my crappy feelings.

Sigh, I want to take a nap, but I know if I do I won’t get up again tonight.  Damn my brain and it’s defects.  Damn it, damn it, damn it.

Thoughts from work…

**sigh** it’s 8:44 am and I’m sitting at my desk listening to my coworker talk on the phone.  She sounds like she’s a busy woman.  How am I ever going to be able to date her?  She probably doesn’t even suspect that I have feelings for her.  I hate complaining.  I need to just suck it up.  Damn it.

It sucks when you start getting sick.  The moment when you realize that something just isn’t right in your body.  I can feel my throat getting more and more sore as time progresses.  I have a headache that is getting worse by the minute.  I took Tylenol but it doesn’t seem to be doing much.

My dad had strep throat a couple of days ago, and now I’m pretty sure that I have it.  Damn it.  Today is just not my day.

Down I go…

(Written earlier in the day)

Right now I’m sad.  I don’t get to interact with my cute older coworker as much now that I’m pretty much fully trained.  Maybe I feel down because today is day #1 of not smoking.  I don’t feel the urge to smoke, but I’m guessing it could be responsible for some physiological feelings.  It’s also lunch time, maybe I’m just hungry.  I also have a lot of work to do, though it isn’t stressing me out.  Apples.

What if…?

Here I sit at my desk, working for a big insurance company pushing paper.  Directly through the partition is my coworker who is 32, cute, and always happy.  I can’t stop thinking of how much I want her, but I feel that any attempt I make to ask her out will be met with disappointment.  How can I possibly expect to be able to date a 32 year old?  I’m only 25.  I can’t even imagine the things that she knows.  What if she can read me like a book and already knows that I like her?  That would be horrible – it would ruin everything.  I don’t want to jeopardize my great working relationship I have with her, but I know from past experience that trying to keep my feelings a secret just ends up making things worse – it destroys me.

Having an anxiety disorder sucks.  I worry about everything.  Yes, I got treatment and it’s better than it was before, but I can’t stop thinking about my dating situation.  At lunch today there was this really cute girl in line behind me at Subway.  I wanted desperately to talk to her and some how get her number, but I psyched myself out did nothing.  Now I’ll probably never see her again.

I can never stop asking the question, “What if?”  What if I had talked to her?  What if she was perfect for me?  What if I never see her again?  What if I DO see her again?  Will I chicken out again?  Some people would say that I have to tell myself that if I chickened out, that it wasn’t meant to be.  I hate thinking like that.  It makes me feel like I don’t have control.  I always want to be in control of myself and my life.  What if I never gain control?

What if I do end up hooking up with my coworker?  What if something goes wrong?  What if I destroy all the good rapport I’ve painstakingly built over the past 4 weeks?

What if…?   What if…?   What if…?  What if I can never stop asking, “What if?”?

I need to start working out.  I miss the days when girls would smile at me.  I miss being able to easily get phone numbers, though to be fair, I haven’t really been trying.

I wish I could put some of the material from this blog on my political blog, to show the voters in my riding that I’m human, that I have flaws.  I suspect doing so would be political suicide though.  I also wish I could express myself on facebook, but it’s not proper to show weakness.  I hate having to hide behind a social mask that isn’t the real me.  Life is so simple, yet it’s so complicated.  It’s a good thing I enjoy paradox…

I need to post more…

So I’m sitting here at 1:53 am and I don’t really know what to write.  My life has gotten better in many ways over the past few weeks, but some things still remain.

I’m still feeling very unproductive in my personal life as I haven’t done much with my political responsibilities nor have I made any progress on losing weight.  Of course, none of the people that I love and care about will read this so I’m going to have to get them to help me without revealing my innermost fears as posted previously.

I’m thinking of actually committing to making it through all 30 days of Tony Robbins Personal Power System, seeing as I’ve owned it for 7 years now and have only seriously been able to make it to day #5.

It seems to me that every time I think of something profound and interesting to say, I’m never able to remember that I need to write it down or record it somehow.  I know that I need to start asserting myself but I’m still afraid and anxious.  My anxiety disorder has been someone alleviated but I’m still anxious about everyday things like calling old friends or even reading.

Part of it is also my ADHD.  I’ve never been good at seeing things through to the end but I realize that with each passing day I get older.  The time for me to start applying myself passed a long time ago and it’s high time I actually did something with my life.  I have a full-time job now but that’s not what I mean.  I decided a long time ago that I didn’t want to be just another member of the swarm, another member of the ant colony.  I want to accomplish more than your average person.  Am I really up to the task?  I think I am, but there are so many bad habits and bad ways of thinking that I need to break free from.

I’ve heard it said that life doesn’t get any easier as you get older, so I realize that the battles I’ve been fighting have only just begun.

Last weekend my nonna (that’s grandmother in Italian) passed away.  She was my last remaining grandparent.  I realize that when I finally reach the conclusion of my life I want to have lived fully, have many children, and grandchildren (great-grandchildren?) and I want to have accomplished a lot.  I want to have made a significant impact on history.  Hmmmm…  maybe I’m just suffering from delusions of grandeur?  haha  Who knows…

It’s late, I’m going to head to bed.  Thanks for reading.

Quick update…

So I haven’t posted to this blog in 19 days, and now I feel that I should update everyone.

1. I’m still alive. Two thumbs up for that.
2. I’m far less anxious now that my treatment at CAMH is complete. I may still have an anxiety disorder but at least I now know how to fight back!
3. I’m less depressed.
4. I finished my one contract job — an awesome experience to say the least.
5. I started a shiny new full-time job with a salary and benefits.
6. I’ve realized just how awesome my friends are, including my e-friends that I’ve never met. I realize that I’ve neglected some of them and now I feel bad and want to reconnect. Of course, I can’t do that with this blog because then they’d know the dark truth about the evils which haunt my mind (**dramatic music**). lol
7. I should never have stopped posting to this blog. I should talk about the good AND the bad. I don’t foresee any bad stuff happening anytime soon, but just in case I fall off the wagon, I have support in place to help get me back on my feet.
8. I have a crush on one of my new coworkers.
9. That’s it for now.

Hi-diddly-dee, an actor’s life for me.

Well, not really. I suck at acting. Pinocchio just popped into my head for some reason.

Today I’m doing fantastic, which to be honest worries me. I had such a crappy day yesterday (read all about it below) and now I’m having a great day. What if I actually AM bi-polar? Are there different degrees of bi-polar disorder? Maybe I’m just really good at amplifying my emotions so negatives seem worse and positives seem better? So many questions!

Maybe I’m just pumped because I don’t work on Fridays so my weekend starts tonight at 5?

I love my family, my friends, and all of you, my random internet readers. You rock.

Today is a bad day.

I always know that it’s a bad day when I post to this blog more than once.  This morning while I had the oh-so-stimulating task of putting hundreds of address labels on envelopes, my mind wandered and thought more about my situation.

I actually started mentally jotting down notes for what I would write in a suicide letter.  If you’re going to freak out on me, don’t — I’m not going to kill myself anytime soon.  But I thought of what I would actually say and realized that I have quite a bit to express.

I realized that I would want to tell as many people as possible that I was gone, so pinning a note to my chest simply wouldn’t suffice.  I’d have to find a mass emailer or something, have all the addresses pre-entered, then simply click send right before I left to find peace.

It really saddens me to think about such things.  I know that I’m only still alive because everyone else wants me to be.  I know that my family would be forever changed and my friends forever deprived of my friendship.

But I’ve been preparing for this for years.  I’ve managed to push most of my casual acquaintences away from me so much that I don’t speak to them anymore.  I’ve managed to keep all of my so-called friends at arms length, keeping them away because letting them close would mean they would see me for what I really am.

I’ve done many things in an effort to damage my body because both subconsciously and consciously, I don’t believe I deserve happiness.  As I sit her at my cubicle, with people milling around me, I again realize just how alone I am.  There are at least a half-dozen people in my field of view, but none of them know me.  There are 68 people signed into msn, one of them my brother, and another my cousin, but neither of them really know me either.  I am completely and utterly alone with myself.  Sure there are people who will miss me, but I’m really sick of trying.

The only positive spin I can get out of all of this is that my suicide note will take me at least a couple of hours to write, if not the better part of a day.

My coworker Robyn just came by to tell me about some ticketing stuff I have to deal with.  She’s cute, but like all of my coworkers, she’s Jewish, older, and likely not interested in me.  I’m not good enough even for myself.

Man this day sucks.  The sun may come up tomorrow, but I hope I die while I sleep.  Maybe I should just take out a contract on my own life and spend my savings on something that would actually help me get relief.

Well, my lunch hour is over now.  Nobody likes a downer so it’s time to put on a happy face even though inside I’m broken.

In case you’re worried about me, I can promise you this.  I’ll live to post again.  I haven’t even started writing my lengthy note so my life is still mine for at least a while yet.  Pomegranates.

Ca, c’est ma vie.

So I’m sitting here at work and I feel like crap.  I feel the need to totally, brutally honest with myself and those around me.  The only catch is that they don’t realize just how much help I need.  I find myself hiding like I usually do, because the truth is so horribly painful, I don’t know if I want it to be known.  I don’t know if I’m looking for (or require?) attention because I refuse to let the people in my “real” life know just how bad things are.

I realized a long time ago that the reason I smoke is because it’s the only surefire way to end my life prematurely.  Killing myself explicitly in what is normally defined as “suicide” isn’t viable, because of the damage it will do to my family and friends.  But what if I am silently killing myself slowly, one cigarette at a time?  It seems to me to be a good enough compromise.  I get to end my life early so I don’t have to suffer, and my family and friends get to enjoy my company for longer than if I just ended everything now.

I hate what I’ve become… no… that’s not totally accurate…  I hate what I’ve always been.  I hate my natural tendency to be shy, I hate that I’m anxious all of the time, I hate how I’m always depressed, and I hate myself for it.  In the past I’ve been foolish and blamed my parents for having me in the first place and now knowing how to recognize, nevermind deal with, my problems and needs.  Now that I’m “all grown up” I find myself grappling with problems that only I am able to fix.

But I’m not strong enough.

Right now I’m surrounded by coworkers who can’t possibly even suspect that sitting next to them is a person with super intense demons that haunt his every waking thought.  They may be sympathetic if they knew but I’m not about to tell them.  I never tell anybody.  My life is a dirty little secret.

I need help because I’m addicted to feeling bad.  I’m addicted to cigarettes.  I’m addicted to smoking weed because it makes my mind shut down (so I have only one thought) and intensifies the anxiety — it makes me feel worse, but at the same time makes me not care.  I’m addicted to negative emotions.  I used to crush up and snort the Ritalin they prescribed me for my ADHD and was definitely addicted.  I think I may have done permanent harm to my mind AND my body.  I have sabotaged myself so much that I’m not sure I’ll be able to fix the damage I’ve done.

It doesn’t help that I have problems with authority, more specifically, doctors and therapists.  I’ve never trusted them because in the past, they’ve either harmed me, weren’t able to help, or didn’t bother to make the effort to help me.  I manipulate them because my mind is so over-active and I’m so intelligent that I analyze everything they do.  I don’t do it purposely, I do it subconsciously and barely even realize when I’m doing it.  I don’t like being manipulative, and I consciously make an effort not to do it in my personal life, but what can I really do when it comes to authority figures?  In my personal life, I barely know where the line is between being smart about my affairs, and being manipulative.  What a fucking problem to have!  If I don’t even know that I can trust myself, how am I ever going to get better?

I hate nearly every part of my life.  I have no luck with girls, and when I happen to meet ones that are damaged like me I refrain from trying to make anything of it for fear of screwing up their lives more.  When I meet girls who aren’t damaged, I always manage to fuck everything up.  A part of me wishes I could have a nice relationship that eventually leads to marriage and a family, but I’m in no condition to realize such dreams.

The only thing that made me feel better was the guy at the gas station this morning.  I had just finished buying my next set of 20 doses of death when the guy behind the counter said, “Have a nice day.”  He was probably just doing his job and being friendly or maybe he actually meant it.  Either way I realize that I’m probably better off than he is.  Why can’t I realize that and get my mind to believe it?

The really sad part is that I’m going to have to resign from something that I thought was going to help me get better.  I thought being a political candidate for the best political party ever would help give my life meaning.  It hasn’t.  I’m still the secretly damaged little boy masquerading as someone better.  Fake it until I make it?  I’m really don’t think I can.  Now I feel like I need to resign because of my health issues.  Further, I need to resign because I’m afraid that I’ll irreparably damage the party if my dirty secret of a life is exposed.  If you’re reading this and you actually know me in person, in real life, feel lucky that you are.  There are few who I’ve trusted enough to show this side of me.  You can feel confident that if I decide to remain in politics, or upon quitting, manage to reenter politics, you can always blackmail me because you know about my demons.  I probably won’t have much money though so you’re shit out of luck if you think you’ll be able to get rich.

Cynical, addicted, depressed, anxious, hiding, and a failure.  Ca, c’est ma vie.

I admit, I have a problem, and I need help.

So I have this problem.  It’s called cigarettes.  I realize that I really need to quit if I a) want to be healthy, b) if I want to have more money, and c) if I don’t want to limit my dating opportunities (yes, rather emo of me, I know).  Today I wanted to quit, but a little voice inside my head took over and caused me to go out and buy another pack.

I know that the responsibility for quitting rests squarely on my shoulders, but I don’t know if I can do it.  But I have to do it.  I just have to.

Again I turn to Tony Robbins for inspiration.  “How long would you give your average baby to walk, before you cut them off and stopped making them try?”  The answer is “as long as it takes”.  As adults we seem to have learned to stop before we’ve achieved our goals.  We’ve learned not to succeed at what we want to do.  We should all take a page from parenting and continue working until we’ve succeeded.

I could really use some support, some people to check in with to make sure I’ve stuck to my guns and haven’t abandoned my own quest for tar-free lungs.  Anybody want the job?

The end…

So this morning my father confided in me that he had to keep his blackberry on and with him at all times this week.  He informed me that in addition to my grandmother refusing to eat or drink these past few days, she has now been taken off her medications.  Apparently, the end is eminent.

I’m trying to think what it must be like for her.  I wonder what’s going through her head.  Are her thoughts in Italian?  Are they coherent?  What is she thinking?  I’m trying to wrap my head around it but I’m having trouble.  How can I possibly know what it’s like to be an old Italian woman who lived through the 2nd World War and immigrated to Canada?

She is my last living grandparent and I feel a sense of loss and sadness that I wasn’t able to learn more from any of them.  The knowledge and wisdom they must have had won’t be passed on to me.  I think of all the relatives that love and cherish my grandmother and know that she will still be loved, even past “the end.”

I can only hope to do my best and live life to the fullest.  I will make them all proud of me even if they are not here on Earth to see me in the flesh.

There will be a lot of sadness in the coming days and weeks.  I hope that my family will be alright, and that through our mutual support we will all endure.

Girls and Life

So I just finished an msn conversation with a young woman who I admire. We saw each other for a very brief period of time, until I fucked it up. She seems to think that I was never interested in being friends with her, but she’s wrong. I AM interested in being friends with her. However she’s moving home for the summer and has informed me she won’t be using msn. I really want to connect with her and show her that I’m not a bad person. I want to show her that I’m actually a nice person with good intentions. I want to show her that I’m trying to make myself better.

Of course, in my true style, what I want to do and what I end up doing are usually very different. I wish I could share this blog with her, but I feel that she just wouldn’t understand. I’m afraid she’ll judge me and see me for the weak person I really am. I’m afraid that I’ll hurt her and make HER feel bad. I had being afraid. Sure I’ve been very resilient, but does it really matter?

I feel like I’m a fish, swimming in the ocean, with tonnes of other fish for me to meet, but for some reason, I always manage to destroy my chances at true fishy romance. In this case, I didn’t even succeed at making a fishy friend. I wish I could show her who I really am, how I really am, and let her know just how screwed up I am. I want to show her that I didn’t mean for things to go bad, and that I really enjoyed hanging out with her. Even though she’s said that I’m not a bad person, I still feel like I am.

Every time I screw up, I take it as more evidence that I’m just not up to par. I want to be successful, and I want happiness, but I just don’t know if I’m up to it.

Today after physio I went and grabbed a pita. On the way home, “Never Too Late” by Three Days Grace came on. I listened and it really spoke to me. Here are parts of the song that I feel apply to my life:

This world will never be
What I expected
And if I don’t belong
Who would have guessed it
…
Even if I say
It’ll be alright
Still I hear you say
You want to end your life
Now and again we try
To just stay alive
Maybe we’ll turn it all around
‘Cause it’s not too late
It’s never too late
…
No one will ever see
This side reflected
And if there’s something wrong
Who would have guessed it
…
The world we knew
Won’t come back
The time we’ve lost
Can’t get back
The life we had
Won’t be ours again

More specifically, the line “it’s not too late, it’s never too late” really spoke to me. It’s not too late to make my life better, but I seem to keep making my life miserable.

To continue on the topic of girls, I just want to find myself someone who’s intelligent and nice, who likes me back. Is that too much to ask? I thought I had found someone great, but she didn’t like me back, mostly because I fucked up and offended her without meaning to. If I do such things without meaning to, and while not realizing I’m doing them, how can I ever trust myself to act properly?

I grieve for all of the time that I’ve lost. I’ve wasted so much of my life, it really hurts to think about it. I hate how my mind always seems to think of what could have been, or what should have been. I know I can’t let myself be bothered by such things, but it DOES bother me.

I wish I could just die. It’s sad, but true. I know that it’s not too late, but I’m really, really, tired of trying. I’m tired of underperforming. I’m tired of being alone. I’m tired of not being understood. I’m tired of being a loser.

Why did I get stuck with being such a moron?

Damn it.

This morning I got up late and rushed to get ready for work in 20 minutes. I forgot to take my medication, and now that I’ve been awake for almost 15 1/2 hours, I realize that I’m starting to get on edge. When I got home from work tonight I thought, “I should take my meds now,” but it slipped my mind when I got distracted finding something to eat. Damned ADHD.

Now it’s 10:30 at night and if I take Effexor now, it’ll keep me awake. If I don’t sleep I’ll be far worse tomorrow. I’ve decided to take my Zyprexa and my anti-inflammatories so my mind will be semi-calm and my shoulder injury won’t bother me (perhaps I’ll post an email I wrote right after I received that injury… THAT will definitely be a colourful entry).

I’ve had a headache for the past few hours, and going to my friends house and sitting in a smoky environment probably didn’t help. The things I do in order to watch just a couple more episodes of 24.

Maybe I’m just dehydrated from my day of drinking endless cups of coffee (like a usually do) and neglecting to replace the fluids I was expelling at regular intervals. I’ve put myself on a regimen of Motrin and water from now until bed time in an effort to ensure I have a sleep-filled night.

…unless my damned CPAP machine keeps me awake (yes, I have sleep apnea too — add it to my laundry list of ailments). Recently I’ve fallen asleep relatively easily, probably because group therapy for my Generalized Anxiety Disorder has actually helped my insomnia. I still don’t trust therapists. If they only knew the whole truth I’m sure they’d try to lock me up… but of course… that’s likely my GAD causing me to fear the worst.

To be honest I’m really conflicted. When I’m at my worst emotionally I write the best. When I’m doing well the words come only with the utmost in effort. Maybe I’m addicted to the high of feeling down? Perhaps… but that is for another post, another day.

Random thought…

The reason why less and less people are not getting married and staying single for a long time into their late-twenties and 30s, is because they no longer have faith in the one-man, one-woman paradigm as a grand societal structure. The conditions are no longer right for such a society to exist. People can still contribute to society, going about their daily lives without being in a “proper” nuclear family. Even “proper” nuclear families are starting to break apart because of a lack of social cohesion.

The relgious paradigm taught to us through (take your pick) Judasim, Christianity, or Islam is either weakening because it isn’t being taught to as many, or it is weakening for some other reason. Could it be that our crazy world has eroded the legitimacy of such a structure?

We shouldn’t be following those big 3 religions. In anciety mythology there is always a figure who comes and civilizes the land: teaches about agriculture, teaches advanced science, teaches about the ills of cannibalism, etc. Those were the individuals who inspired and created all of the world religions we have today. We should be following the religion that those ancient civilizers followed, not what some other people came up with after.

…at this point, I may have lost Josh. And to be absolutely frank, you know what? I’ve lost myself because I have no idea what the hell I just said, that entire string. Ironically, that’s why I smoke weed… because it shuts off my brain so I don’t have, you know, 100 thoughts flying through my head all at once. I just have one. Hence, I’m a pothead.

**writer’s end note: I still think the original idea about marriage is a valid inquiry. The part about being high was included while I recorded myself. I think it’s funny that I forgot what I was saying right after I finished saying it**

To Tell or Not to Tell – That Is the Question

Since I feel that I have underdeveloped social skills, I’ve been reading “How to Start a Conversation and Make Friends” by Don Gabor. Among other good tidbits of information I’ve come across this personally significant revelation in chapter 2.

“Do you maintain a veil of privacy because you believe that 1) if people knew what you were really like, they would think less of you; 2) being too familiar with someone breeds contempt, so remaining mysterious is best; or 3) if a person knew intimate or personal facts about you, she might use this information against you?

Yes a certain amount of caution about revealing personal aspects of one’s past is prudent. However, if you are secretive, you will leave the impression that you have something to hide. No one expects (or wants) you to reveal your deepest fears or secrets, but if you desire meaningful conversations, be prepared to reveal some of your history and what is important to you.”

I realize that yes, I do believe that if people knew what I was really like, they would think less of me. I feel that they may not see the “real me” and judge be based on my hardships.

No, I don’t believe being too familiar with someone breeds contempt, so that part isn’t relevant to me.

But yes, I do think that if people knew intimate or personal facts about me, they would use that information against me. I have many dark secrets, some of which I’ve revealed on this blog. If the people in my life knew the real me, knew how much of a daily struggle I endure, knew how much I have failed because of my shortcomings, they would be turned off and wouldn’t want to bother with someone who isn’t “on top of their game.”

The next heading in the chapter is “Realistically, What Do You Have to Lose?” I’ll type it out here for your benefit.

“People who resist disclosing personal information place much more importance on it than the details warrant. Once you take a look at what is being revealed, the details aren’t secrets that must be kept. Close and meaningful relationships are nearly impossible without personal revelations and mutual trust and confidence. Trust is created by being willing to reveal some personal information to the other person. While some feelings are best kept to oneself, especially in work-related situations, it can be destructive to let this guarded attitude carry over into your personal life. Although there are people who do take unfair advantage of others’ personal disclosures, avoiding sharing personal feelings is a guarantee of a life of loneliness and isolation.
To overcome this problem, begin to observe others as they disclose information to you and others. See how often you busy your feelings and opinions. Take the risk of being more open with your disclosures. The next time someone asks you a question about your background, personal feelings, or opinions, remember you are entitled to think and feel as you please. You are free to express yourself to others.”

I have lived my life with a subconscious attitude that making myself live a life of loneliness and isolation is the best way to deal with my depression and other cognitive problems.

I was wrong.

The only way to get better is to reach out to people. I can’t possibly reveal this blog to the world and the people who know me by my true identify. It would be political suicide. I feel as if I shouldn’t have been given the responsibilities I have but there was no other option. I had to take this job and I haven’t been living up to my duties.

I need to change that. I need to be more expressive, I need to speak out more. I am involved in politics because there is a need for change. There is a need for new ideas and a new way of doing things. The fact I am ashamed about my personal demons should not get in the way of expressing my positive personal attributes.

My only worry now is that these last 2 posts were too long. I’ll try to start making them more “short and sweet”.

My morning…

Last night I stayed at a friend’s house (because I was too tired to make the trek home), and we took transit together downtown. Him to go to work, and me so I could go to my group therapy session to continue my treatment for my anxiety disorder.

I took the subway all the way to Union Station with a singular goal in mind. Money. I needed to get to the bank machine inside the station so I could withdraw cash so I could have my morning coffee.

Like a river, torrents of people were streaming from inside the station through to the TTC. I remember standing with my father inside the TTC portion of the station once, looking back towards the stairs coming from the GO Train part. It looked exactly like a waterfall, stream of humanity flowing down the stairs onward towards their own little contributions to the economy.

Fast forward 20 minutes or so, and I’m now walking along College Street, wondering what all of the students at the University of Toronto will be learning today. I remember Shad – so many years ago now – and my fellow over achievers that I spent that glorious month with. Why haven’t I been so successful?

I think it has to do with my substance abuse issues. I have decided that in order to get help, I need to stop drinking, stop smoking weed, and ideally, stop smoking cigarettes too. I need to start exercising and shedding some of the pounds I’ve accumulated these past 2 years living at home. I need to shape up and start living the life I dream of, rather than remaining resigned to the sidelines of each exciting play after another.

I am kind of sad that I had to get shoe-horned into a specific treatment stream (for me, the generalized anxiety disorder department) when I had so many other needs. I need help with my addictions. Emotions are a very powerful and addicting force. I have realized that I’ve become addicted to negative emotions. When one cannot feel happy emotions to get their fix, a dose of negative energy will suffice. I need a boost of confidence and a way to get my fix without thinking about how much I’ve failed over the past 8 years.

I realize now that there is no pre-determined destiny for me, and that I will be the one to shape my own personal future. People literally create their success or failure, by either ensuring that success happens, or languishing and causing failure to happen due to inaction.

Now all I need to do is formulate my plan. Mental disorders be damned, I HAVE to succeed. Failure is not an option. I need to continue expressing myself and being honest, if anything, so I have a record of my thoughts from which to study my own existence.

Right now…

I’m currently struggling to decide whether I’m doing well or doing poorly. I’m drunk, and high, and thinking far too much. I realize my lack of skill when it comes to being what I want to be. I realize how incompetent I am at my political career; I have no hope of ever getting elected. I realize that I’m overweight and need to shed some pounds so that girls will like me. I have crushes who I’ve never met in person and are hesitating from doing so because I feel fat, depressed, and insignificant. I have crushes in “real” life I have failed to “make moves” on because of the same reasons. My formerly poor self-image has deteriorated further.

Yesterday (2 days ago now?), my friend told me that blogs are bitching — people bitching about something. Mine is essentially me bitching about whatever I feel like. I want to read more blogs to try to get to know other writers, but I find it difficult to concentrate, and difficult to separate the different authors in my mind.

The only positive thing I’ve learned is that people with mental “disorders” can still have relationships and even get married, so I suppose there IS hope for my sorry, single, existence.

Maybe it’s the alcohol that’s getting me down, or my lack of productivity today. Damned marijuana.

I realize that I hide myself from the world because I’m ashamed of who I am and who I’ve become.

Most of all, I hide it from my family, because I don’t want them to see how badly I’m doing. Part of me wants to protect them from my personal hell but a part of me also recognizes that I’m cheating them in a way. They can help me, but I’m too ashamed of the damage I’ve caused myself for me to be honest with them.

I feel so damned inadequate. I partially blame my parents for not instilling more confidence in me as a child, but maybe I was just a naturally un-confident person. Maybe I still am.

I’m sick of hiding in my own little world. I’m sick of hiding my true self, no matter how ugly I actually am, I’m sick of hiding what I’ve done and what I still do behind a guilty veil of lies and deception. I am not fit for the responsibility of the jobs I’ve been given. I’m a very poor politician. I’m a very poor activist. I’m an alright public speaker, at best. I’m not good at motivating and I’m not good at persuading. I’m not very good at a lot of things. I’m not good at staying in contact with people. I’m not good at maintaining relationships.

It’s so bad I actually signed out “How to Start a Conversation and Make Friends” (by Don Gabor) out from the library. I’d tell you to go check for it at your neighbourhood big-box book outlet, but I’d rather you went to the closest independent mom-and-pop establishment and ordered it through them. Most of you won’t though because you probably don’t need lessons on how to start a conversation and make friends. I feel like such a loser for even researching the topic.

My alcohol tolerance is increasing, I’m only kinda drunk right now.

I am on 2 medications that both say that I should not consume alcohol while taking them. Zyprexa and Effexor. Without them I would be… well… dead. Two birthdays ago I woke up, naked, in a hospital because I had consumed too much alcohol and almost died. Apparently I’m in the mood to confess things this morning…

I also used to be prescribed Ritalin for my ADHD. It was fantastic… helped me study… helped me get things done. Then, I started crushing it up and snorting it to get high. Now, right off the bat, I tell every doctor I see not to give me stimulants because I’m afraid I’ll just abuse them again.

I have a hankering for a smoke… or maybe I should just quit…

Today…

…I feel great.  I don’t know if that’s evidence to support whether I’m bi-polar or not, but nonetheless, I’m doing better than yesterday.  I’m going to keep posting at least every day if I can and maybe a trend will reveal itself.

Right now I’m wondering if I should start sprucing it up a bit with WordPress widgets and whatnot.  If this is to be my online sanctuary, a diary of my inner-most feelings, it should be as home-like as possible.  Haha…  “home”.   What a concept.  I can’t believe how much pain can be associated with something that also brings comfort.

Maybe I’ve just become comfortable with my misery.  I have Tony Robbins Personal Power System (a 30 day program) but have never made it past day 4.  Damned ADHD.

One thing I did learn from him is that the human mind is like a thermostat.  As soon as things get really bad (cold) your mind will kickstart itself into making things better (like a furnace heating things up).  What most people don’t realize is that it works on the other end too.  If things start heating up too much, and you start experiencing more success, your mind will unconsciously start up it’s air conditioner and start cooling things off a bit.

It would seem that growing and attaining increased success involves consciously realizing when your mind is heating/cooling itself and tweaking you consciousness to help achieve your desired ends.

Tonight I think I’ll blog about drug abuse… and possibly about mental disorders too.

Dear Diary, you’re awesome!  Thanks for listening to me.

Maybe I’m bi-polar…

So I started drinking because I was in the shittiest mood ever, but somewhere between drink #2 and drink #3 I thought, “this is only going to make things worse.”  So I stopped drinking and went for a run.  After the run I felt awesome.  Endorphins were pulsing all through my body giving me what I believe is referred to as “runners high.”  Either that or I’m bi-polar.  That wouldn’t really surprise me that much.  Stay tuned as I continue spewing my mind uncut onto these pages…

Wow… as if I posted that.

You people reading that last post are probably making snap judgments about me. Thinking I’m half-nuts, etc. Well for your information, I AM half-nuts. But if you think you know me from some rambling-venting of a blog, you’re wrong. You’re wrong, and I’m obviously very angry right now.  I’d say I regret what I’ve written, but I promised myself I wouldn’t censor my thoughts.  I want this to be a true log of my emotions and feelings.  Most of the people I know don’t know it exists.  If they did they’d say “he’s just trying to get attention”.  Well, maybe I am, but I’m sure as hell not looking for it from them.  If you just stumbled upon my blog, welcome.  This is where I express the dark side of my mind.  The dark side really is more powerful than the light…  Yoda was correct…

I’ve never been so scared in my life…

Oh my God! Somebody please help me. I’m the closest to doing it that I’ve ever been. I’m having the worst day possible.

First I started it off really depressed, and dragged through my morning.

Second, this asshole (male) roommate of the girl I was seeing (who also likes her) briefly decides to start shit on facebook and inform me of how horrible a person I am for distracting her during exams (I’m pretty sure he’s the reason everything went sour too). As if I’m not distracted too. Jerk.

Then my stupid coworkers and their pompous “I’m-better-than-everyone” attitude kept annoying me all afternoon. They’re sickening. I can’t believe I lasted this long, but giving up on work will be the beginning of the end, if the end hasn’t arrived yet anyway…

Finally, while moping on my ride home, I turn right where I’m not supposed to and get a $110 ticket.

Fucking bullshit.

So what did I do about it you ask? I cried while I drove because I can never do anything right. I’m destined to be alone for the rest of my life. Every time things are going well with women, I always end up screwing it all up. I always seem to start hating my job within a couple of weeks of starting it so I’ll probably be only semi-employed the rest of my life. I’m going to die an old, single, broke, loser.

So instead of going right home, I stopped at the liquor store and then bought some smokes. I’ll drink and smoke my sorrows away if I have to.

The scariest part was on the ride home when I started thinking of where that long length of rope went to that we used to have downstairs in the basement. Crude, but effective. I realized that I had a 2 month supply of BOTH of my antidepressants. Painful, but effective. There has to be some windshield washer in the garage. Even more painful, but yet again, very effective. I actually thought that tonight would be my last night alive. So many ways to die… so many people that would be hurt… but “the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few” (or so Spock said).

I curse each and every family member and friend who’s ever loved me. If it weren’t for them I’d be at peace right now. I’ve lived in this God-damned hell for well over 10 years, with no relief in sight. As soon as I start getting better I realize just how shitty my life is. I’m sick of fighting. I’m sick of trying to make my life better. I’m sick of living because everyone else thinks it’s a good idea. This is torture. If anybody really cared about me they would let me go and allow me to die.

The sad part is that all they’ll do if anyone calls 911 is lock me up in some psychiatric ward somewhere and hold me there against my will until they’re satisfied I won’t hurt myself. The last time I was admitted they told me they could legally hold me for 72 hours against my will. I told them to go to hell and manipulated my way out in a day and a half. Losers.

The last time I was in the emergency room, drunk, bleeding, with broken bones I told them I wanted to die, and they just shrugged it off as if I were lying to them. Retards.

Who knows who’s reading this now. A friend? A foe? Maybe, just maybe, I’ll actually even be around to post again.

God it feels good to get this out. Time to drink… cheers to happiness, wherever it may be.

I like this blog.

I rather like this blogging idea. I tried it before but my own anxiety held be back from actually expressing myself fully. My first blog languished and remains unupdated. My 2nd blog is about my political career, which to be frank, is in a rather infantile phase. If people knew how screwed up I was they wouldn’t vote for me. haha My 3rd blog is just a bunch of links that I enjoy. I’d post links to all 3, but then this blog would be connected to my true identity, and I won’t be having any of that.

So far a couple of my friends have commented on what I’ve written and I thank them for it. What is even more interesting is that two seemingly random people from online have commented on my posts. One of them commented only 15 hours after my first post, and one girl even commented just minutes after my last post. Whoever you two are, thank you for your feedback. All four of you have given me some hope.

But hope isn’t really what this blog is about… at least not yet. This blog is a space where I can vent all of my angry/depressed/anxious/negative feelings and emotions. It’s a space that allows me to express myself in ways that I can’t in my “normal” reality with everyone knowing who I am. It’s a substitute for the therapies that never worked administered by doctors who remained too detached and too clinical for their efforts to be effective. The help I seek cannot be found with the medical community.

I’ve posted more to this blog in its first 2 days than I ever have on my others in 2 months. Perhaps by consistently posting to this blog, my other blogs will get used more as well. Thinking and writing takes practice. I’ll get the hang of it sooner or later. Maybe I’ll eventually find the peace I’ve been looking for…

About a girl

I feel like such a loser and it’s because of a girl. Why do I always manage to screw things up? EVERY time it happens. When will I learn? I actually liked her and was excited to date her. Then it all went to shit. I feel like the entire world is rejecting me.

My coworkers all seem really nice. They all seem so happy as they go about their day. Maybe it’s because they have the benefit of a shared existence through religion. I don’t share their religion, or any religion for that matter. If my coworkers only knew how screwed up I was they’d probably reject me too.

Damned doctors and their inability to help me. I sometimes feel good, but the feeling’s always fleeting.

It sucks being a guy because I’m not supposed to express my feelings. I’m not supposed to act depressed and dejected regardless of how bad I feel. People don’t like downers. They shun people with negative feelings. I have negative feelings and despite what some people say, I feel that I’ll never find the right girl for me. Thankfully nobody knows who I am on this blog. I can type whatever I like.

Why can’t men express their feelings? Why do I always have to “suck it up” and act like everything’s okay, when it isn’t. Everything is not okay. I am not fine.

Life is just one never ending pain right now. It always has been. I want to hurt myself but know that it isn’t socially (or legally for that matter) acceptable in today’s society.

I’ve never been one who likes following rules, but this time, I feel that I need to. Damned rules.

My Frustrating Friend

Sometimes my friend aggravates me. It sounds really bad, but he’s not the sharpest pencil in the pack. I know it’s not his fault. His upbringing was less than ideal, but I find it really hard to talk to him sometimes. I feel like I should help him better himself because I’ve known him so long, but how can I help him if he’s not really ready to be helped and can’t really see that he needs help?

This is also going to sound bad, but I’m smarter than him. I hate to sound conceited but he always assumes I see the world the same way he does. He can’t grasp enough abstract concepts to be able to debate even the basic points of politics, philosophy, psychology, etc. Those are all things I really enjoy, but I can’t talk to him about them because he likes everything to be cut and dry, black or white.

He doesn’t deal very well with uncertainty either. I thrive on uncertainty! I love it.

One thing he does do well is memorize random facts that he’s read. He can bust out brilliant quotes from self-help books, but he never seems to incorporate them into his life. I really do want to help him, but I’m frustrated.

Maybe I need to learn to help myself before I can help others…?

For my first post…

…I’ll just say that sometimes I really, really hate my life. Sure it sounds like some emo teen-angst bullshit but it’s true. I’ve lived so long with depression, and anxiety, and this damned sheep-in-fox’s-clothing ADHD. I try really hard but still manage to fuck myself over. Some people I know think of me as being very positive and upbeat, with a great outlook on life.

It’s all a lie.

I’ve been told that I should “fake it until I make it,” that is, pretend that my life is alright and sooner or later it will end up that way. I’ve experienced limited success, but then as soon as things are going well for me, something always comes in and fucks it all up again.

I realize that women and girls are a HUUUUUUUUUUUGE thing that “sets me off.” As soon as I fail yet another time in dealing with women I automatically feel like shit and that life no longer matters.

It’s very juvenile of me to say so, but sometimes I wish I could just end the suffering. The only problem with that is in order for me to selfishly end my own pain, I’d need to cause irreparable damage to other peoples’ lives, which is something I just can’t bring myself to do.

Who knows who’s actually reading this, and if you actually care. You probably don’t.

If you’re life is as fucked up as mine — or better than mine/worse than mine — then at least you know that you’re not alone.

*I* feel like I’m alone… because for the most part, I am. Nobody understands the pain of a mind that is broken. Nobody understands the pain of being alone with your thoughts all the time with no way of expressing them adequately to the world. Nobody understands that you’ve tried to gain silence but ultimately failed to solve the problem. Nobody understands what it’s like to hate yourself and everything you do. Nobody understands what it’s like to purposely continue smoking only because it will one day end your life sooner. Nobody understands what it’s like to hate your own mind because it’s just too powerful, and you were never properly taught how to control it.

Most people have no clue.

Fuck this. That’s enough for now.