Time is my enemy. All I want is for the day to go by as quickly as possible so I can go back to sleep. That’s the only time I don’t feel trapped inside my head. I no longer count the last 24 hours as a victory but rather as a failure because I’m still here. I never imagined this year would be harder than the first year but it is and I can’t make sense of it.
I have this overwhelming anxiety and fear of never being able to escape the loneliness. My “Give a Fuck O’Meter” has hit a new low and it’s frustrating because I feel like I’m really putting effort into pulling myself out of the hole. My stack of self-help books on depression, meditation, cognitive behavioral therapy, mindfulness, grief, personality disorders, Buddhism, suicide, etc. could rival the shelves at Barnes & Noble.
I’ve done support groups and I go to counseling and I take medication but nothing works. Where am I supposed to go from here? I have tried everything and I’d even give Electroconvulsive Therapy a turn at the wheel if I thought it could make a difference.
I’ve given up on the elusive notion of happiness. I don’t even know what the hell that means anymore. All I want is to exist without the desire to not exist. But how?
I’ve ruined the few good things I had, and what I didn’t ruin just ended up ruining me. Let’s imagine happiness returned. It would’t stay long. Despair is just around the corner waiting to move in as soon as the Sun appears. I can’t even say I’m lost because I’m not sure I ever knew where I was or where I was going. I’ve had entirely too many people say “You’re never going to be happy.” Either way they were correct or I finally started to believe it too. It is certainly true now.
I’ve been forever lonely, even before and during Jason’s brief appearance in my life. But at least I had hope he might be the one to fix it. It all seems beyond repair now and why does it even matter because there is nobody to be happy for anymore. It’s me inside my fucking head with no escape.
This blog was a way to make sense of Jason’s death, or at least shout how pissed and angry I was about it. Now it has become a way to makes sense of the desperation I feel.
Going out last night was the right choice. It pried me out of my head which has been a treacherous and slippery place lately. It was the anxiety of not knowing how I’d be treated and feeling like I’d be an unwelcomed intruder among my friends. I had created in my head an image of distrusting and disgusted looks on peoples’ faces and an atmosphere full of disdain. This was not the case at all. Sure, there were a few people who didn’t talk to me and that’s okay. I admittedly said some harsh things about someone we all care about and I expected there to be some consequences. I apologized and did the best I could to repair it and that is all I can do besides not make the same mistake again.
The past 18 months have been a roller-coaster of grief, sadness, despair and hopelessness. There have also been moments of happiness and euphoria so I can’t allow myself to forget those memories too. It was hope that lured me out of my shell on January 4th and I thought 2015 would be better and easier. It hasn’t been for the most part and the year has been full of blunders and missteps. But I survived 2014 which was something I never imagined I could do and I’ve made it through most of 2015 with only a few scars that will eventually heal. I have no idea what 2016 will hurl at me but I think I’m starting to get the courage to hurl it right back!
There’s nothing more miserable than waking up at 2:30am unable to fall back asleep. This has been happening almost every night for the past month. I woke up in the middle of crashing my parents car after I had to borrow theirs having already crashed my own. I’m not sure how Freud would interpret that dream but I think it falls under regression because I’ve started sleeping with my blanket from childhood again. I haven’t started sucking my thumb yet but I suppose this means I need to start wearing my retainer too.
Everything has moved backwards for me…and not the good kind of backwards when you suddenly remember you are actually 38 and not 39 (this happens). I’m having to start my life from scratch again and I don’t know where to begin, or if I even want to.
I felt extremely isolated and lonely last year and that’s what led to this blog. And now I’m back to writing again in the middle of the night because otherwise I’ll just lie awake letting my thoughts ricochet back and forth until the alarm finally breaks the cycle.
A solitary existence seems to be my calling, not necessarily what I want but what I get. I’m gradually being eliminated from social circles since many of my friends are his friends and gather at the same place, and now even the one person who promised to stick around and not give up on me has moved on too. And unfortunately this disrupts my only other social network. So I’m back to spending Friday and Saturday nights at home…and those were really the only things I had to look forward to for the past several months.
When Jason was alive we developed a weekend routine: dinner out Friday night, maybe a drink or two, then back to the house where we would watch something on Netflix and both fall asleep while playing with each other’s hair. We’d wake up on Saturday and efficiently get all of the dreaded items scratched off our to-do list and then find something fun to do, like attend a show at a music venue, get tickets to the annual film festival or at least start making plans for our upcoming vacation. Sunday morning always meant brunch and a Bloody Mary and then we’d sit around the house feeling icky because we were getting closer to Monday. But at least I had someone to feel icky with then.
This routine felt boring sometimes but I would do anything now to trade boring for this loneliness. There is nobody to accompany me to shows, nobody who wants to commit to a week-long film festival, nobody excitedly planning a vacation with me and nobody to have brunch with anymore. And there is really no point in doing any of these things alone.
“To get the full value of joy you must have someone to divide it with”