526 Frivolity and Flamboyancy Sts.
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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in the "doppelgangering" journal:[<< Previous 20 entries]
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10:25 am
[Link] | Thank jesus for sunshine and warm breezes.
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11:41 am
[Link] | Just gotta breathe, gotta breathe. I can do it. I CAN do it.
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03:27 pm
[Link] | Some people are bad, bad friends, and in fact terrible, terrible people.
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02:43 pm
[Link] | Every time I think I've got this thing beat, it comes back with a ferocity. It'll fill my stomach with dread; a horrible lump I choke on until I get to my room at night and curl into my bed and stare at the wall for a long time in the darkness. Not even the prospect of getting out of this place pleases me. I'm so tired and so exhausted that things that should be unconscious acts take tremendous feats of will and motivation. I've long since passed the point at which I could look at this as a learning opportunity. I wish I had faith for solace, I wish I could trust my friends with my heart enough for them to help me heal. I wish the people I loved would give me some sort of sign that my presence in their lives is something that matters to them at all.
I feel pretty inconsequential in the universe.
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02:27 pm
[Link] | Life seems a lot better today. Guys, I'm trying--really, I am.
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04:00 pm
[Link] | No body reaches out to me. Life is pretty empty. I don't understand what the point is anymore.
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03:01 pm
[Link] | Things might be better today; I can't really tell. I think I'm just going to decide that they are, for the sake of sanity.
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09:45 am
[Link] | I regret to say that life lately has been pretty unbearable. Every day is a struggle with many issues, most of which I don't understand. I try to get through it by seeking solace with friends and by composing odd bits of maudlin poetry and by immersing myself in the old standby of academic obsession. These things just don't cut it anymore. I'm floundering, friends, and I don't know how much longer I can stay above the water.
What bothers me most is how little control I seem to have. At least now, the sources of my distress are more tangible than before, but their effect seems random. At times, they'll not bother me at all. At other times, they'll leave me paralyzed with grief, fear, shame, and self-loathing. What this all means is not clear to me.
Lately I haven't been able to shake that feeling that no one wants me around. When I'm hanging out with select friends, I get the distinct impression that I'm not wanted, I'm a bother--the fact that I have to turn to these same friends for solace when I'm in a bad place makes it even worse. Sure, they'll do their duty, try to keep me afloat, but they don't seem to seek me out any more. Any human contact I receive I generally have to work for--I have to take the iniative, find that person to connect with. Even then it's unsatisfying because I feel like a burden and an annoyance. For this, and other reasons, I feel pretty alone in this world.
And it's true that no one else should have to bear my grief. It upsets me that my norm has become one of grief and pain. I've really understood the mind of a suicide lately--there's only so much one can take.
Self-esteem is becoming an issue--for all of the reasons above, and others. I don't find myself attractive in the least; why should anyone else? I'm needy, selfish, whiney, clingy, overweight, and so many things.
I should probably go practice now.
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06:04 pm
[Link] | I think I'm maybe a little better for a while. I hope I can sustain it.
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06:05 pm
[Link] | I think tonight I'll sit alone in my room and get drunk while watching a sad movie. Should be fun.
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09:57 am
[Link] | God, I feel so utterly, irrevocably alone right now.
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01:09 am
[Link] | Sometimes you're so grateful to have wonderful, beautiful people in your life that you can't even say it to them. I hope they know who they are.
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09:20 am
[Link] | Lately, I've been very tired and ill, but with friends. The medication I'm on seems to have made me allergic to food, so I'm eating around 1000 calories a day, maybe less. At least I'll lose some weight, most likely. In the meantime, I have an upset stomach due to being empty.
I went to Minneapolis this weekend, impromptu-like, with Patrick to see Siri. It was a good time, and I wish I had been ill for less of it. Now, I have to play catch-up and present in class both today and tomorrow. We shall see how it goes.
Oh, and from last week:
Georges Debeoef Beaujolais, $10. Delicious red wine with a piquant cheesey flavor, but still rather smooth.
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10:42 am
[Link] | It's alarming how pleased I can be with life after the difficulties of before. Things are pretty good; I have a fair amount of work to do over reading period, but it's manageable. Yesterday for the first time in a while I had the energy and drive to practice Oboe. Last night was great; opened another bottle of wine--a lovely dry but light Rioja from Spain--and drank it with Patrick and Dawn while watching the Emperor's New Groove. Additionally, I got a wonderful haircut last night that makes me feel back on top of things.
Here's how a feel about wine: my recent interest in it has been accused of elitist pretensions. Friends, it's simply not true. I actually just like drinking wine and naturally I recognize that there's such a thing as good wine and bad wine. I'm not one of those crazies that's going to claim that my wine has undertones of peach cobbler or whatever, but I'm going to enjoy drinking it and talking a little about how I feel. It's kind of like my friend Shaunna Burnett's feeling about food. It's a sensual experience, as well as a social. And I would even go so far as to claim it as an intellectual experience; good wine teaches me how to appreciate complicated things and how to think about them as experiences.
The wine I drank last night was a Montecillo Rioja (red) from Spain. It was a Crianza type wine, meaning that it was aged at least two years (this happened to be a 2001) and one of those years was in oak. The wine itself was very dry, but without that dryness of mouth that generally happens after drinking, making it surprisingly light. It was very crisp and almost spicy and pleasant to sip on a cold winter night with friends.
Go ahead and try it:
Montecillo Rioja Crianza, $15.
Love all.
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11:19 am
[Link] | It's Thursday, the first day of reading period, and I feel liberated. Things will get done today, and have been done already today, despite the fact that I slept until 10 am (sweet, delicious, and oh-so-necessary sleep). The only mar is that I'm currently waiting for Steve the horrible janitor to leave the fourth floor bathroom so I can shower. I just don't want to talk to him while I'm naked.
Last night, Patrick and I went to have delicious Indian food, which was pleasant. Later, we opened a bottle of my Riesling and played video-games. Similar plans are gestating for tonight. These are the kind of things that are soul-healing. I hope to see friends today in addition to accomplishing things; drop my a line, folks.
The recent opening-up of summer has pleased me. I had originally planned to go to Cairo July 2 - Dec. 21. However, for the sake of my sanity and pocketbook, I've changed that to Aug. 28 - De. 21. This is all assuming I get the grant I applied for the fund the whole deal. However, I'm pleased because lots of summer plans can now be made. Road trips, anyone?
Listen--if you've never heard anything by Stuart Davis, finding some of his music is the biggest gift you can give yourself today. I guarantee you'll enjoy it.
Finally, I want to thank some kids who don't read this journal, for the most part: Shaunna, Caitlin, Carrie, Patrick, Sue--god, I love you all so much. I'm going to hug you all and squeeze lots next time I see y'all.
Happy reading period, lawrentians....or just happy Thursday, other people.
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04:47 pm
[Link] | Friends, I'm pleased to announce that I feel very good today, and have felt that way since about 9pm last night. This is by far the longest period of normalcy (even better than normalcy!) since this horrible episode began more than a week ago. Thank jesus for drugs, hugs, or whatever it was that works (is working) in the end. Love you all.
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07:00 pm
[Link] | Hi friends. I hate to make you all read this stuff, but it's my only outlet, despite the fact that it's still an uncomfortable venue for me.
I wish I could say I was better, but emotionally I'm no better off. Life is just as difficult; break-downs still happen at night when I'm alone in my room, or even afternoon or evening. Life is becoming something I experience so passively--people and things float right past me and I can't even make myself aknowledge them. I can hardly make myself complete important things that were once so important to me, like study abroad applications. It's difficult for me to imagine next week because it seems so far ahead, an unattainable goal. This is the longest sustained period I've ever had of this kind of feeling, by far. I have no answers for myself. Don't worry, I don't expect answers from you either.
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10:06 am
[Link] |
Update.
My emotional state is still not very good, but it's perhaps less desperate than it was last time I posted. I finally was able to drag myself to counseling services on campus. I was referred to a doctor, who prescribed an anti-anxiety/anti-depressant for me. Whether the slight increase in my general mood is due to this or other things is a question that needs answering; however, for now, I prefer to kvetch about what this horrible drug is doing to me.
Right now, I'm having a very difficult time focusing my eyes. I feel like I did when I was on vicodin--like there's some sort of general thought-suppressant at work, and my cognitive faculties are operating at a sub par level. Additionally, this drug (I assume it's this drug) has left me with terrible, terrible insomnia. The last few nights have been nearly sleepless. Each night, I've woken up a few hours after I go to bed and thought it was the morning. The moral of the story is that in addition to being emotionally exhausted, I'm also physically drained. This is leaving me little wiggle room. The other side affects are numerous, and many of them are too-much-information, but if they don't improve soon, I intend to plead with the doctor for a different prescription. In the meantime, I guess I'll continue plodding through.
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11:26 pm
[Link] | Friends, I am lower than I've ever been. Lately, my mood has made it nearly impossible for me to function--I can't study effectively, my interactions with friends are cold despite my best efforts. It seems like my face is constantly hurting from trying to keep the weariness, the dread of another day, off of my face. Maybe that's why I'm writing this entry, in hopes that it'll make tomorrow a little less exhausting.
I hate the word depressed, or depression. But I guess that's the best word for what I'm experiencing. My libido is non-existent, I have no motivation to do things I usually love, I can hardly choke down meals. I've recently started to engage in dangerous behavior that I thought I had moved beyond.
Last night, I think I may have had a breakdown. I was in my room and I felt like there was absolutely no one I could talk to. I went for a walk, and the cold air of wisconsin only brought into sharp-relief my feelings. When I got to my room, I couldn't help but just ball. I didn't expect it, but then it happened, all in an instant. I cried for what seemed like a long period of time and then I sat in my chair and stared listlessly into space like zombie. Once in a while, the room was permeated with one of those strange, post-sob heavings that's almost like a hiccup. I had a similar episode this afternoon. I was so scared right then--I would have given anything to feel just a little bit better, I would have done some horrible drug, I know it, if it had been there. For the first time in my life, I really truly feel like I'm grasping at straws.
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11:25 pm
[Link] |
Swill.
This is some horrible tripe I dredged up, but it pretty must explains the horrible depth of my current depression.
hands around my neck like strangling, you breathe
hot and naked against my hide. hairs
prick-prickle like ill-chosen words against
my upper-lip. in no time, I'm shooting to the surface of
this horrible river whose cold water
undulates against my own hairs; bristles
that prick-prickle in their own way, but to a different
time.
Lord, it's so fucking horrible.
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