Empty Words

Is faith in something so much to ask for? Faith in love, happiness, hope...anything really. The sun is rising again on a new day, a day where, in theory, I could exercise my right as a human being to unleash a wild potential that is a wonder to behold. Yet it'll probably more likely be a day that crawls by with nothing really changing. Recognizing that it is my attitude that is the crux of what holds me back, really only makes me feel worse about it all. It'd be a lot easier if the obstacle was something completely unattainable, like punching through a 100 foot thick concrete wall, but no, it's an abstract notion of motivation and the like. Might as well be 200 feet of concrete then. I really don't know how to attack this enemy, how to just be alive. From the days where I realized I couldn't "tough" it out and submitted myself to things like therapy and asking for help, to medication and all the wonderful side effects, to wilderness therapy and living out in the woods for 3 months having to bullshit my way through it because it was the only way out...biofeedback...meditation...yoga...various exercises, I just don't know what to do anymore. I feel so utterly helpless. The key lies within I have no doubt, but I just don't know how to get it and it's the lousiest feeling I have ever felt. To know that through whatever anomaly of the universe my atoms were assembled in this way to create who I am, and to know that people like my mother care so much about me and want me to be happy...and here I am just...as nothing.

I still cannot believe how absurdly out of touch I feel with the rest of humanity. I'm sure it doesn't help that I spend a lot of time thinking about that absurd feeling. Every feeling of loneliness serves as a reminder that I am not someone who I would want close to me either, so why should anyone else. It is no wonder that most people keep me at arm's length. Self-degradation is a welcome mat for people to coddle you, but this is not what it is there for. That's just how reality has shaped up. From my old relationship crumbling, to every new girl since seeing me as a great guy who just isn't special enough to be special to them...it just all adds up to create the mindset of, "yeah, no one wants you". I barely even write anymore because I just don't see the point. Would you if you felt that no matter what happens you are just going to continue rotting away?

Every moment I am not making any sort of progress, I am failing those around me. To those who say that even in writing this out that I am making progress, I say phooey...we both know that's a cop out at best, and that this really doesn't signal much of anything. Not for me, because I have been in touch and writing things for ages now, and there's no progress here. Anyway, my mom took me out to dinner and I could barely hold a conversation. She said this is the worst she's seen me in a while...I guess my armor is wearing thin, which sucks because I really hate making her feel so bad about me. She's a single parent who saw her husband and love of her life decay in front of her from cancer, only to now watch me become a ghost? I hate it.

I'm even failing people I don't talk to anymore, just knowing that a few years ago my best friend told me that she'd love me always and forever no matter what she would care...I feel that each and every day and to an extent I'm glad she doesn't know how I'm doing, in that regard I feel like I did something good for her by pushing her away from the fire. In another regard, I want to reach out like no other, but I know I shouldn't. The friends I talk to, I just feel guilty talking about these things to, when they tell me how hard it is to have someone sort of dangle depressive talks out there regularly, which only compounds the bad feelings, but I understand, really I mean you can't listen to this negative energy like that. There's a reason people go through loads of training and school and get paid to listen to this kind of stuff.

I am just so sad. So alone. So empty. Every step I've taken feels like it was wrong. I am wrong.

Hope?

Sitting on an Amtrak train right now seems like a good time to try to reflect on where things are. Perhaps later I will attempt to be poetic instead of this more lazy prose format, but alas, I am without my headphones and find it rather hard to focus.

This is an interesting place to be, sitting on a train in some sort of in between, not home but not at school, but not a vacation either. However, not having done this before, it still feels different, not merely some transit route back to school, even though in the back of my mind I know that's where I am heading. I wish I could make this merry but I did not create this blog to spout BS optimism from a place where I know there is little. Maybe someday I'll create another blog for  that under some happy go lucky alias. Having been on Spring Break was a welcome hiatus from the hubbub of what every day life had become at school. However, I fear it has reaffirmed my notions of cosmic loneliness and just not being at peace with myself and the world surrounding me. Without divulging anything too personal that I cannot rightly do on another person's behalf, I recently had to go to the hospital for someone very close to me, and as much as I told myself that I should be frightened and scared, I simply was at ease with it. It made me feel very reminiscent of when my father was ill, and I felt nothing with it (at the moment). However, I know that now I am more in touch with this absence of feeling, and aware of it, whereas the first time around I just thought that's how I was operating. Now to have to go back to school and continue with silly papers and tests that have no real bearing on what I feel is meaningful, I just don't know how that can occur. I hear people say they have faith in me and that my exemplary strength and resilience will carry me through, but what does it all mean if you are not at peace with yourself and don't have that belief. I want to feel what they say to be true, and I wish I could just based on their merit, but that doesn't translate to me. Going back to the land of "you just have to get it done"'s is not a place I can see myself getting anything positive done. People might say you will find the positives and you can create your own opportunities, and I do not deny that, I count on the fact that I may encounter opportunities to keep me going, to feed myself some sort of hope.

However, it is a hope that is continually dwindling, as if hope itself were personified by a wind-chime and it's bell that caught a strong breeze of strength when I was born, and is just swinging and resonating on itself, with nothing new pushing it to dance and sway with vivaciousness and livelihood.

I want to feel the wind on my soul again, but if I end up convincing myself that it's not coming, then I don't where I'll delve down to.

This Is Love

I meet you,

My friends warn me,

My family urges me to stay away,

I ignore.

I give you my whole heart,

I fall,

You let me in,

You shut me out,

You break me.

Repeat.

This is love?...

A Nightmare of a Dream

It happens every day without fail.  I spend all day in torturous rehab, trying to cut you out of my life.  I cling to the idea of our love like an addict looking for a a last fix, just to make the world feel inhabitable once again.  Your pictures on my phone, they must go.  Our mutual friends are lost in the whirlwind of our fallout.  What's left?  Just me and my loneliness, trying to self heal.  It happens every night without fail.  I long for the sanity I once knew. It's nighttime when you finally start to fall into the shadows of my past, I slip out of my thoughts and into slumber, into a nightmare of a dream.  There you are, beautiful, and happy, as if nothing went wrong.  Living as if our love never faded away into thin air.  My dreams are not lucid, I did not put you here.  At this moment, love has consumed me, everything is perfect. It happens every morning without fail.  I wake up and reality strikes as if I have fallen into the frigid waters of a cold river.  I check my phone, nothing.  Only the pictures I haven't deleted, the number still on speed dial, and that awful feeling that I am no closer than I was yesterday.  Am I supposed to let you go?

Through the Castle Walls

I am an open book, an easy read at that.  My feelings are as clear as the smile your faking.  Asking what's wrong is pointless, because your emotions are behind layers of concrete in a castle you've built far away from it all.  When I tried to talk about us, you hid, avoided, denied, and reinforced your walls even thicker. You never let me in, so I shouldn't have been surprised when you locked me out for good.