Mmmmm

Headcold. Sinuses kind of screaming. How do they come on so fast? Six pm last night felt like nothing, seven pm was a little drippy back there, 10pm was icky, now it's nearly all-out.

For Me.

I was gonna feel bad about doing so much emo sorta writing lately, but then I realised: this is the sort of stuff I'll want later. This is the sort of writing that's important to me to keep. If this blog had been meant for others originally then I'd have a direction and an audience to write to. As is, what I want to say is this:

We've spent a lot of time together lately. I'm not sure if it's good for 'us' but he has some stuff he needs to get through and I can help him with that. It'll be friendly, laughing and talking about everything under the sun, and then sometimes something will hit me sideways.

It's interesting to feel this sort of emotional void I've got going right now. I don't react to people with the same edge of interest that I used to. It's not going through the motions, precisely, but everything seems friendly and a tiny bit forced as interactions go. Intensity is lacking. Keep in mind I've been in overlapping relationships for more than a decade and while I'm used to the curl-away instinct I'm not used to having nothing there.

Yesterday for lunch I went down to the patch of stinging nettles behind CrazyChris' house and harvested them, fried them up with garlic to serve over rice. They were really good. His windows were dark when I walked past his apartment-- you know ,I haven't seen him in like a year?

I'm not sure where I'm going with this. Breakfast now.

Guitar Hero Competition

There's a guitar hero competition at HMV this weekend, 12-5 all weekend days, I'm told. Hah.

Depression

Most of us have been there. Do you remember how it feels? A very dear friend of mine is going through this right now, and it reminded me of my bad years when Kynnin was supporting me and I couldn't dig myself out of it. Watching this friend is like a little snapshot in my head. I'm not there now; I've learned coping mechanisms so it never gets all that bad. Still, I was...

It seems so much like an actual, malign entity. It's smart, because it uses my own brain. I'm never quite sure what it wants. There's no way to pacify it, there's no 'right thing' that makes it feel better. Hiding helps a little, short term, but it sucks you down so badly long term.

Some days it feels like the air is solid and my body weighs more than any leaden statue. Limbs won't bend. When the sun shines in I literally can't see it; colours are dark. Vision is a tool to move through space rather than a pleasure. Everything sounds melodramatic to say it, and of course no decent human being would feel this way. Everything in my mind is slippery and avoidant. Subjects dance away almost without my noticing-- I should really go to work but something about the dishes need doing and if I don't get the paperwork for citizenship done and then I haven't had breakfast yet what was that?

Things seem to be coming from very far away, but I'm locked in here far too close to myself. I wish I could describe the feeling of loathing better: there is such violent self-repulsion, everything inside is such a seething pit of slime. No one should be made to see such things. No one could ever see such things; there's something so wrong with me and if only I could try a little harder I could do it, but I'm such an utterly fucking miserable failure of a human being that I can't even do any easy little thing that anyone could do in their sleep with no effort. This isn't a matter of someone understanding, this is a matter of my not being good enough: subhuman.

I can't believe how nice everyone is being to me. That'll change as soon as they catch on to what I'm really like.

Making breakfast is the hardest thing in the world; hardly even worth it. I can change the sheets tomorrow. I can do everything tomorrow, I'm just going to curl up in this little space under my blanket and close my eyes, everything is so heavy. Sleep, at least, is peace.

Leaving the house is walking through a solid wall. I can't meet anyone's eyes, god, don't let me meet anyone's eyes. There's a pressure behind my temples. My leg hurts. My body offers up any excuse to turn back.

Who knew that your mind could have a mind of its own? This is the bus to work and I promised myself, I promised, that I would go today. Still somehow that was the right bus stop and I'm still sitting here with a big blank where my -me- is supposed to be. I wonder what will happen at the end of the ride? I only pray that something will happen, the bus will crash, the world blow up, anything will happen before I need to explain why I'm not there, why this happened. Before I need to figure out what to do next.

If I keep my eyes straight ahead and I don't move, I'll be invisible. No one will see this thing I've become. If no one thinks about me I can maybe not exist, just for a moment, and everything will be alright again.

I want it to go away. I want everything to go away. I can't do this anymore. I can't do anything, anymore.

Alright.

Off to the rat show in Washington. Back Sunday. Think love at people you know; they could need it.

I will be available by phone only for one particular someone, and you know who you are.

I was depressed from maybe '99 - '02 really badly, with a slow taper upwards to now. I wrote that last post 'cause I realise I'd never talked about it, but sharing my experiences with my friends verbally seems to mean a lot, and it makes sense: the illness is all about shame so you want to hide it. It seems like no one's ever been so awful. So I thought it was time I put it out there. I'm not afraid anymore, cause it's gone and mostly long gone, but this is likely the first time I've spoken of what it felt like.

But hey, if you feel that way right now, you're not alone and it's not your fault. That's all.