Welcome to Now

With all of the goals I've set for myself to accomplish before the start of 2013, and after just having completed an eLearning on time management, I find it funny that I would disregard certain things I have learned in order to do this--to write. Writing is clearly one of the highest priorities in my life, and it is a long term goal of mine to leave a piece of myself behind, virtually and otherwise. Words aren't meaningless to me. Even when I feel like I don't have any and even when they are lost inside my head, they mean everything. Even when they are not spoken, they mean everything.

Side note: A Deaf man came in, and they called me to the floor to help him. I felt useful once again, but I also noticed how much I had forgotten. I didn't remember the sign for Christmas until I got home. That's probably something I should have thought about as the holidays started to get closer, and I of course feel silly because it is rather easy. I also felt pretty bad because he asked if we had any Wii U systems, and I don't believe we are getting any until after Christmas, which is what Nintendo always does. Then he asked me about when the new X Box was coming out. We can only hope that it is next year. By the way, I still HATE those controllers. Side note to the side note: Working in the warehouse is actually kind of fun on days when there is a lot to be sorted. I am very efficient, and I now know how to delegate tasks when I have other things to do and no one else is busy. I think someone actually told me to slow down at one point. And for once, I was able to listen and just try to enjoy the side conversations while managing my work. And it wasn't that tough.

I don't even know how to get back on track from that. I'm not sure there ever is a track when I write these things, and that might be the nice part about them. I'm not writing about misery and wanting to kill myself either, which is also pretty nice. My feelings of sadness and regret are much less intense, and I'm not obsessing over them as before. These are good signs. The little things are good signs. Like being able to start conversations or smile at strangers. Like not having to worry about getting overstimulated at work with all of the TV's on and all the people rushing about (fingers crossed).

I like knowing that people trust me and take me seriously at work. They think what I have to say is important. I like knowing that I'm actually good at what I do, and I think that's because I have to really try to understand another person. I don't take it for granted. I'm a conscious observer of unconscious cues, and that really matters. When you have to spend your life playing catch up, sometimes you end up surpassing the people you're trying to catch up to. I love watching people interact. I love to observe and to analyze. I've always been a scientist.

A combination of things helped to increase our department's performance by quite a bit in just one week. I think one of the biggest things was resolving a conflict that involved some coworkers by pulling someone aside and having a chat. He wasn't even aware of what he was doing. It's amazing what getting along can do to boost your job performance. Since my supervisor has been out for over a week, the computer supervisor has been filling in somewhat, but it's also made me feel like it's time to take what charge I can. It may not seem important to some people, but I like being involved in what I do to the fullest extent. I can't help but care.

Alright. Now I'm going to go on a rant again, and it's something everyone has heard me say already, but seriously...What the hell is with people buying their kids 400 dollar iPods for Christmas IN ADDITION TO A SHITLOAD OF OTHER THINGS? This isn't always a bad thing. Maybe the kid has earned it. But so many of these are purchased for kids under the age of 8. Do you know what I had when I was 8? Fucking legos. And I loved it. Legos, crayons, and books. Lots of books. And when you tell me you won't buy the protection plan when you buy your six-your-old an iPod touch that's less than half an inch thick and has a glass screen, I will judge you. And when you tell me that you'll just buy another one if it breaks, it makes me want to scream. Appreciate what you have. Really stop and think about what saying that to someone like me means. I don't make that much money in a week, sometimes two depending on the schedule. And there are people who are far worse off than I am. A lesson in humility is something I believe many people these days need, and it's not just the kids. I am now reminded of the time when some guy reporting on alligator wranglers in Florida remarked that they ONLY make 25 dollars an hour. The report was on Fox News, if you hadn't already guessed. That's all that's ever on in here. It's why I don't often go upstairs at night. I think I'm done with the ranting paragraph now.

I don't think I've got anything else right now. I'm just excited that I can see a little bit further into the future, and I don't feel as pressured to make a decision. I know what I want out of life. Things might distract me from that from time to time, but I always come back to the same place.

It's about that time where so much stuff starts floating around that I can't come up with anything else, so bye for now.

Progress

When you ask a straight girl on a date, and she says yes. More importantly, when you feel confident enough to ask a girl you've liked for months. This has been a great day.

More of the same

I feel like I am ultimately fighting a losing battle. I keep struggling to regain control, but I'm in no better shape now than before. I honestly can't make myself see the purpose of my life. I can't even invent one. I feel like I had lived in a bubble throughout college, and though I am grateful for the things I have learned in the past two years, I long for that kind of safety and security again. I want to love the way I did before. I feel like I've turned completely cold. This isn't the person I know I can be. Maybe there's no way to ever be that person again. I used to be happy. I used to be excited about life, and though I was anxious, I never remember living in a constant state of terror and misery for such an extended period of time.
I wake up, and I immediately think about the day ahead of me. The only thing I can think about is crawling back into bed At the end of the day so I can stop experiencing reality. And I would rather die than exist like this forever, or until it is too late.
There are good things happening in my life. But I cannot appreciate them. I understand them and know how I should feel. How I would feel. But I don't actually feel any of it. I experience only transient pleasure. And even in these experiences, the pain is still there. I am always hurting. And it's been well over a year. I remember having trouble before that, but it's been about that long since it became inescapable.
I truly don't know if I have enough energy/strength to continue on this course. I keep thinking about ways to die, whether on purpose or by accident. I keep thinking about other ways to just destroy my life. I see myself committing terrible acts of violence and cannot help but visualize every gruesome detail.
I want to fight. I want to just push through and come out clean on the other side. But that attitude has only made me more miserable. I've said it before, mostly about life in general, but it applies to depression just as much: There is no other side.
I have only this existence to work with. And I am fucking it all up. I don't know how to navigate through all of this, which seems frighteningly new and endlessly the same. Everyone else seems to be doing at least okay. What makes me so unable to do it? And by it I mean life. What am I not doing that I could be? And why can't I do the things that I know I should be doing but am not?
My breath is forever stuck right above my sternum. The pressure. I just want to be rid of that feeling. To let my arms fall limp at my sides and melt into the world around me.
I caught myself daydreaming About what it was like to hold him. I saw and felt it all over again. And then the memories kept taking me further back in time, further into my mind than I ever want to be any more.
I feel like a black hole.
I don't know why I do anything anymore. I am only pretending to know what the more stable version of myself would want out of life. I don't want to make decisions in a state like this, but what if not making them is worsening this condition?
I feel like I am becoming so bitter and resentful. I cannot escape thoughts about all the people who used to be a part of this life of mine. And I know I mean nothing anymore. I want to feel like a ripple in the pond sometimes. Instead I feel like a drop of water taken captive in a syringe.
I want to be able to experience the world with other people at the same time. I want to feel like something matters. I don't want to fake it anymore. I want certain people to understand this pain. I want them to see what their actions continue to so to me, but maybe they'd be happy and think I deserve it. And I may. I may deserve all of this and not even know it.
But then my rational brain tries to sve the day, and it only succeeds in making things worse. We never get what we deserve; we only get what we get. And then we must decide what to do with it. I don't know if I'm doing anything with what I have been given.
I'm terrified. But I think the very best thing would be for me to go where I can truly start over. But I don't want to admit that the rest of my life is lost. I can't. Something will not let me leave certain parts of my past behind. I have chosen to follow my instincts. And I hope it works. I just want to be able to survive long enough. And I'm getting more and more convinced that I will not see this through.
I have thrown away or sold almost everything I brought back with me. I feel like I am already dead. I really don't feel like I exist any more than a piece of furniture.
And these thoughts are all I have. I am obsessed with my own misery. I cannot escape myself. It's probably why I've been drinking more. Never alone and never without occasion. But it's more often than I ever did in college.
I want to stop looking.
I want to feel.
I just want to be okay with myself and my life.
I want to stop writing about this. I need real fucking help and know I will not be able to get it. And I wish somebody actually cared to acknowledge that there is something wrong. I'm not sure if my family has given up on me. or maybe the same fantasy as always applies yet again. and maybe that's why I am so fucked up. I don't know how to be anything other than a robot. I don't know how to manage any of my emotions. I want to be able to experience emotions and function in my life at the same time. But that may be too much to ask.
I don't even know why I write anymore if this is all that I ever accomplish. Maybe one day ill be able to see the change in my words. Maybe I will one day see happiness on this screen.
God, I just want to die. Really. I'm just too afraid of living. I'm too afraid of an endless now. I don't want to be broken. I don't want to go through life like this, an maybe that is why I don't have any motivation. Maybe my brain is trying to make the wish a reality by refusing to let me participate in my life.

Hope has failed me.