I'm finding it ever harder to convince myself she still loves me.

I should just believe it's true. But, I don't know. I want to though. I want to quite badly. I guess I'll just have to have faith.










There's nothing more to say.

"I'm a lonely, insignificant speck on a has-been planet orbited by a cold, indifferent sun."

Guess the quote. I betcha wont get it. Answer at the end of the post.

I presently sit somewhere between numb and nonplussed. I watched all of season 3 of Moral Orel with Bubbe today. She enjoyed it more than I anticipated she would. I was moved again by the writing. I think that when I'm with another person I pick up somehow on the grandiose themes of all existence. Whence Moral Orel has brought me close to tears in the past with its beauty, today, sharing this experience with another elevated it somehow. I like movies for this reason, packed theaters, midnight showings. The sense of community and mass emotional swaying. At the finale I choked back tears and gripped this observation of my reaction. The beauty of an intimate moment is not cheapened by exposure. If done correctly, it elevates it to something like an archetype. But, I do not know if anything archetypal resembles Moral Orel in the moments I am thinking of: specifically, the final scene with Joe and nurse Bendy.

I take a lot of pills at night. 100 mg seroquel a day now. Family thinks I'm good. It's really quite hard to say. I have some more eloquence today, some more logic and some more hope. Slumber oft breeds discontent with seemingly dystopian reality.

However, Tuesday brings refreshing sleep, shaving, a shower, taking out the trash, a fresh deli sandwich, a piece of cake with a cold glass of milk, and a visit from my beloved. In that order, in all likelihood. Lets hope for an overall improvement for tomorrow, or at least to retain the status quo.

The quote is from Homer Simpson.

I think I'd like to move to Norway

Or Sweden. Or Denmark!

These 3 countries rank highest on statistics of either non belief in a "personal god" or just pure atheism.

"They have a famously expansive welfare and health care service. They have a strong commitment to social equality. And — even without belief in a God looming over them — they murder and rape one another significantly less frequently than Americans do."

http://www.tampabay.com/news/perspective/article948684.ece

I stay in America for my family, for my fiance, and because to leave would be running away, it would mean that "they" win. We can't let them win. They are slowing down all of human progress. They are a virus on the creature that is humanity.



Thy will be done. Someday we will all turn to each other with loving embrace. Someday.





Sigh.

I don't know what to do with myself

Fucking weeping on the floor huddled under black sheets. Snot oozes like pus from a freshly opened wound. I don't know what to do here, I really don't. I want to cut myself open to let it out, to get the rush. I have no way to make myself feel better. Nothing I can do, nothing I can say, nowhere to go.

Mercy killing?

Seeing her helped so much.

Her mother is crazy and hates me, her sister is cold and uncaring, her brother is cute and friendly but too young to be anything but a bystander. But I am enthused and, well, I'll admit I'm not overjoyed, but damn am I better than normal. Seeing her, smelling her, feeling her hand in mine, hearing her voice, looking into her eyes, feeling her lips.

I love you Katie. You are my medicine in a world of viruses and infectious ills.

Yay Christmas batman pic!

Sanity in layers

So many variables, so much minutiae. Why is it so hard to keep up? I'm on all my pills, I'm eating, I'm exercising, I'm writing a little, I'm sleeping a healthy amount, but I'm still going through cycles like a motorcycle stuntman in a metal sphere. I felt today like I was two different people. I do well with a bunch. With my family I am alright, to good. Great with Bubbe. We're closer now than ever. It makes me happy. But at the same time I see that she is getting older. I worry she will not be here much longer. It's probably just anxiety and she'll be around for years longer. Or maybe not. Impossible to say really. I do not worry too much about it, but it does make me sad.

In public today I ranged from caustic to friendly. I made small talk at length with an old man in a doctor's waiting room. He spoke with a southern accent of some sort. He was pleasant and upstanding in a queer undefinable way. I choose not to argue with him over the morality or motives of management in some stores.

Back at home I quarreled with my mother. I believe I perceived a larger argument than there was. I think she is used to this by now. I thought about how little my father knows me today, and I thought harsh, violent thoughts towards some of my family. It occurred to me that this was silly. But I did not feel regret.

I think I have levels of sanity in each arena of life. Social skills, family relations, friends, love. I haven't seen my friends in over a week. Katie is hardly ever around, or enthusiastic to see me. I know she does, but I find myself wondering if she even cares. She doesn't tell me so, she doesn't make any effort to come see me. She will chastise me for not just telling her this after she reads it. I love you baby, don't mean to upset you. You are my best friend, my shoulder to lean on, the one person I know I can count on, you're the love of my life, you're my one and only, you're my everything. I love you so much.

Darien says I should try to call her, hear her voice, that it will help. I will try this soon, I hope. I do not know her schedule too well. She often has to fill in for someone. This is not her fault.

Life is taxing on all relationships, from the smallest meeting on the subway to the love of your life.



No, I'm not depressed, I'm just getting into the holiday spirit.

No, I don't have S.A.D.

I just have melancholy holidays. Well, Holiday. I don't really remember whether or not other holidays depress me. In this country, we barely have other holidays. July 4th is a banquet, as is...ok, fuck it. All holidays are banquets. Except the ones where you fast. But nobody does that anymore. I've tried to last few days but have discovered something. My indomitable will to do something stupid like starve myself and run on a treadmill all day has seemingly vanished. The only thing different from the last time I did this was...my anti-psych medication.

Fuck fuck fuck I'm shit outta luck. Healthy dieting?!

Ah well, guess I'll have to drop a few pounds slowly instead of a bunch all at once. I'll keep exercising though. I tried to limit myself to just about 2000 a day, but to be frank, I'm fucking starving. And there's eggnog cake in the fridge. It's just not fair. C'est la vie? I'll try.

I've got a poet to research: Ogden Nash. I heard some of his poetry read between pieces of a symphony on the radio the other day. I liked it. Update soon, if there's anything to say.




I miss you, my love.

Quick update

I've started my winter break diet. I may be coming down with a cold. I added a bit to my book. I'm done with finals and therefore the semester. I'm seeing my Katie tomorrow. And, in conclusion, my Bubbe has a blog. She's one of my followers on the right there. The one whose picture is simply of fudge.

Dasvidanya

Keeping this blog

After my last long entry upset my fiance I have seriously considered removing this blog and opting instead for a private one she doesn't know about so as to not upset her. Alas, she doesn't want me to. So instead I'll just keep this one and try my best to be completely true and raw. So, here we go.



Would I be happier if I was cutting? Perhaps, but then she'd be mad at me and it'd cancel it out.

She just left. I was going to go down to my room to try and see if I could cry. Despite my depression I've found it impossible to cry. I thought tonight would be the night to let it out, but my sister needed a ride and I sucked it up. Back in my room now, I teeter totter over the precipice of tears but not finding the surrender necessary to let loose. I don't really know why I'm so sad all the time. Our heated discussions are part of it though. She's always angry. I feel that I can't do anything to please her. I haven't stopped trying. I made her a wallpaper, cooked for her, offered massages. I don't know what to do. She's always upset. She talks to me at length about how horrible her life is from work and school and finances and she's completely right. I feel all I do is make her worse.

That paragraph helped. Break for crying now.

Hell and damnation, only a few tears. God, when this wall breaks I'm going to completely break down. I'm not looking forward to it. Odds are good it will be at Christmas. Because why the fuck not?

So yes, I feel all I do is make her worse, make life somehow worse for both of us. We've got all these fucking plans and ideas that jump up but then get shot down. The house is impossible. She no longer wants a wedding so all those plans have been wasted. Her plan to work with a real bachelor's degree is essentially impossible. I'll need to support her with my English degree. How am I going to do that? There are jobs, but I'd made peace with the fact that there may be times in my life where due to no jobs I'll have to live in my car. We can't live in my car.

I'm so upset, so fucking upset, and there's nothing I can do that will fix it. My antidepressants don't do anything anymore. I swear they're like fucking placebos. I'm upset all the time, upset and fucking wishing for it to end. If only her family would see the light, or she would just take control of the situation. I don't know how she could really. Impossible. Pipe dream, like the house and the good paying jobs and the bliss that comes along with love. I know even the best couples need to work at it to get it right. It's stupid of me to assume we'd be automatically perfect because we're in love. But I was shocked when I realized I could love her so much and still be so depressed all the time.

Some of my time with her today granted me a reprieve from it, a time where I felt blissful again. The rest left the status quo. Once or twice I felt worse.

I'm writing some short fiction now.

Clarity

My therapist does nothing for me but allow me to needlessly waste breath on his behalf. I learn nothing I did not already know. He teaches me nothing. He does nothing to alter my perception, bring me truth. He told me once that the intelligent and mentally ill often are granted useless insight into their own lives. We can see how pointless and even crazy our thoughts or behavior may be, but we are powerless to alter it. We are merely observers. We can watch the fire burn but are unable to act against the fire.

However, my disdain and frustration gave me focus, and I found the reasoning for my latest depression. It is as it of course had to be, a result to circumstance. My appearance issues, I've discovered, are a direct link in with the sexual dysfunction I suffer from. In her anger and my sympathy our passion has drained from red hot to lukewarm. We are both so distracted. I am afraid to make a move even to kiss her deeply for I wish not to appear fragile, to appear needy. Her anger towards the world seems to detract from her's. I cannot blame her. If I was in her situation, I'd have lashed out at the world many times already.

We are all puppets of destiny, but sometimes we can look up and see the strings. Is it holy knowledge?



With understanding I can now move forward. It is a small, simple matter to fix. And now I know what to focus on. It makes me happy. I miss her more than ever when I know it is such a small matter that impacts me. My love for her is so massive that a glitch in my own mind is barely noticeable.

Reflection

No breakfast for her today. No breakfast for anyone. I ate a long Italian chocolate cookie for sustenance and waked into the shower. My weight is 206. That's 16 pounds of pain and failure needing to be removed; by any means necessary. I took a long shower today instead of making a rushed meal. She will forgive me. She always does forgive me. It's my presence she longs for, not my culinary creations. That isn't to say they don't sweeten the deal though. I needed a long shower today to think and contemplate my options. I confessed to my mother and grandmother yesterday how hopeless I've felt lately, how depressed and even at times suicidal. Empathy and concern were expressed. I vented to them, shouting at times, about the injustices of the world. Nothing made me feel better. Stepping out of the shower my head and shoulders rest in fog. I see nothing but a worthless body with no head. A physique that would be abhorred, even by a desperate medical student needing cadavers. No more food today for me. Water, and caffeine, but no more food for me.

I've a therapy appointment at 11:30, and a reading of one of my poems at school around 7:30. I look forward to neither. I look forward only to pain and exercise and weight loss, and sleep. And when the world allows me, her.

Dismayed, guilty, upset, dejcted

Not a redeeming thing about this day. Not. a. one. Even my time with her was tainted by my own inadequacy and events beyond either of our control.

Have a picture of a kitty.




I've taken enough seroquel to knock me out for the evening. Even going to my university's showing of Dark Knight I think would feel hollow on this night.

Ta.

Stupid Empathy

I'm upset to the point of suicidal level depression because she's upset.

God damn it.

So I called my therapist

I don't know what I'll talk to him about. I know i'm depressed, and I know I'd be suicidal if it weren't for Katie. But hopelessness does seem like depressive realism now, and I always advocate the truth.

The truth sucks. Yet, there it is.