Somewhere between too healthy and too sick

Man goes to the doctor. Says he's depressed. Says life seems harsh and cruel. Says he feels all alone in a threatening world, where what lies ahead is vague and uncertain. Doctor says: "Treatment is simple. Great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight. Go and see him. That should pick you up." Man bursts into tears. Says "But doctor..."
"...I am Pagliacci"

Have I used that joke before? Not sure. Moving right along,

The paxil seems to be working, but there's no sure way to tell. My sleep is not improved. A few hours a night, waking with the aid of excessive caffeine. And randomly at night waves of drowsiness does overtake me. It's nice. On the old seroquel formula I could time it for a good night's sleep. Thank God I can sleep in tomorrow. The books for this semester are a crime. I could have bought a car. Not a new car, but one that would run, for a while anyways. Everything is making me cry. Too happy, too sad, overwhelmed by beauty, overwhelmed by ugliness. Rachel brought up in me from mere phone conversations a religious experience. I don't want to talk too much about it. But, I...I'm doubting my atheism.

I want this thingy as a tattoo. On the middle right finger. Darker too.



Watching and re-watching Watchmen stuff. Keep breaking into tears.

A small girl has entered the clique on campus. She depresses me somehow. Tiny and seemingly innocent yet with a streak of vibrant red. Like Early Katie with pretender Tashi. I don't like this new girl. She invokes things in me I do not like.

Doll eyes

Interesting things occur to me today. I've known for a while I don't like dead eyes. Doll's, faces in magazines. But I do not mind human eyes, living people looking at me. I also don't mind the eyes of corpses on a page. In person I'd be unnerved I think. Why is that? Dolls and living people frozen in time freak me out. I cover them when I can. In doctor's offices and things like that. I turn them over or cover them up. But the actual living and the image of the dead do not.

Not sure if this means anything, but I noticed it.

Panic attack last night flowed into nightmares and today I feel stressed, on edge, a lurking terror creeps behind me, just beyond my peripheral vision. My hands shake, my focus shifts, vertigo haunts me. My stomach is out of sorts.

Modern Stonehenge

It's a commentary on modern culture in comparison to the mystery of antiquity. Think about it. Eh, maybe I'm pretentious. But I like this one. :D

I would do a lot more photography if I thought there was any money in it. I love this conceptual piece. Yes those are all really my pill bottles. This would be better as an oil painting, but, I work with what I have, ya know?

You're going to think I'm nuts...

But I actually find myself missing the two lost girls. I guess being distanced months since the incident I'm not as mad anymore. Really I could never be that mad. I'll always have that mad nonsensical hopeless infatuation with one, and I still really pity the unhealthy other. I'm probably alone in wanting to be on amicable terms with at least one of them. Then again, with her being single(probably) I'd still feel hopelessly lost when next to her. Sigh. I guess it'd be a bad idea to even send an envoy on my behalf to extend the olive branch. I never really found out what inspired them to do it. I thought everything was fine, I really did. And they disagreed. It's unlikely I'll ever speak to them again. I do have poetry with one of them this semester. Hopefully it won't be too...conflicting? Too argumentative? I don't know.

I'm horny, I'm lonely, I'm having nightmares about old, old lovers and self-inflicted wounds. I had a bad one last night about carving out the fat in my gut and chest. Mostly muscle and wide bones, but I hate myself.

Katie called me vain. Can I hate myself and still be vain?

New Beginnings

I keep googling for images, trying to find an image to convey where I am in this blog entry, what I am. But I just don't see one.

I'll start with the basics on what the people really want to know. Katie and I are still broken up. We've gone through the whole ordeal and we are both alive. She has offered the opportunity to me to stay with her in a pairing where we are somewhere in between an open relationship and being friends with benefits. If this works, fine. Neither of us can get mad at the other for anything. We don't really do anything anyway so this isn't much of a change for me, except that I can now pursue others without any guilt. But I don't exactly know how. I'm back to my old stuff again. I put up an ad on Craig's list, I'm active on my dating site again. But I do not have high hopes. I'm going to diet again, and work out more. I can feel the hollowness growing again. That dead feeling of sunken in eye sockets as your soul slips back in, behind your retinas, and the twinkle reflected in your pupils goes dead. I can feel it. On the verge of tears and slowly dying.

I have no one. I miss my friends. Darien is just missing. Getting his computer repaired or something. I don't know where I stand with anyone else. Pax has been helpful. She's far away though.

Katie could find someone fast if she wanted to. She's beautiful. I am ugly.

I see paths

We have a few ways to walk laid out in front of us.

A) The status quo. We stay where we are. fight and reconciliation. Separated and together. Pain and doubt on my side, confusion and hurt on hers. It's where we've been, though we're trying to make it better. If neither of us can fix this, if together we can't fix this, it's where we will remain.

B) We fix this. I find a way to kill my sex drive or she finds a way to bring hers back. Or maybe we can find a happy medium. A happy medium is where I want to be. We're in love, we make love, we are together, we show affection. Neither of us has to force things, force physical aspects, force affection, force a mask over our face to hide the hurt, force the hurt in our eyes to not show if we can. I love her, she loves me, we should be able to find a happy medium. True love isn't supposed to be easy. Marriage isn't supposed to be easy. But it will be worth it. If we can do it.

C) The option I don't even want to address. She gave me a long dialog last night she'd been building up to, about how if we keep having problems like this I should do the right thing. It'd be wrong if there's no way to fix this to stay, even if I can't bear the possibility of being without her. She doesn't want a marriage where I'd be miserable, especially when she doesn't even notice that there is an issue. I guess this means I need to communicate to her my needs more appropriately.

I'm often told to make lists. Maybe we should make lists as to what we want and need, so we can evaluate if we can be that for each other.

I'm very scared right now. I don't know who to talk to about it either. I see my psychiatrist on Thursday and am seeing the state disability doctor on Friday for SSDI evaluation.



I'm very scared right now.