My heart sighs for a light to dawn
Upon the realm of existance
To yield its ray upon the day
And warm the chill of loneliness
My heart pains for a smile to captivate
Inflate beauty upon my eyes
To awake in me belief
Our hearts intertwine
Monday, October 31, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
Is this what I'm afraid to say?
As I was out tonight celebrating someone's birthday (I'm not even sure whose it was), I was gripped by a familiar feeling and thought I would sit down on a quiet Monday evening and write about it. Reflect on it. Only the exact moment I confined myself to this chair, anxiety has almost completely taken over. My leg seems unable to stop its fervent shaking, and when it does, the other takes its place. My legs always are the prevalent sign of my anxiety. This and tapping fingers. But this is beside the point.
I'm not sure if I can write this blog.
Earlier as I was enthroned in this mystique, it was clear to me what I wished to say. I was certain I was willing and able to reflect, to analyze, to hypothesize, ect. I knew what to do. Now i feel like creating metaphors and making this an impossible blog to read and comprehend. Why is this do you think?
My mind is this haze of confusion. Stop. Breathe. Think. Clear your mind.
I saw couples; three couples to be exact. Mid to late twenties, all with children. Maybe you could call this a conflict with reality. My own reality as an isolated, socially inept 24 year old was confronted with the reality I wish to be. I saw in these people the life I want to lead. I want love, marriage, family. I want my own family and to be the best damn husband and father I could be. But what strikes me as peculiar is how I wasn't looking on in envy - I was detached.
As much as I saw in them what I desire, subconsciously I have become resigned to defeat. At least for a moment tonight I accepted what I perceive to be my fate: A life & death alone.
It's a lonely feeling. ....(Is this what I am afraid to say?)
I'm not sure if I can write this blog.
Earlier as I was enthroned in this mystique, it was clear to me what I wished to say. I was certain I was willing and able to reflect, to analyze, to hypothesize, ect. I knew what to do. Now i feel like creating metaphors and making this an impossible blog to read and comprehend. Why is this do you think?
My mind is this haze of confusion. Stop. Breathe. Think. Clear your mind.
I saw couples; three couples to be exact. Mid to late twenties, all with children. Maybe you could call this a conflict with reality. My own reality as an isolated, socially inept 24 year old was confronted with the reality I wish to be. I saw in these people the life I want to lead. I want love, marriage, family. I want my own family and to be the best damn husband and father I could be. But what strikes me as peculiar is how I wasn't looking on in envy - I was detached.
As much as I saw in them what I desire, subconsciously I have become resigned to defeat. At least for a moment tonight I accepted what I perceive to be my fate: A life & death alone.
It's a lonely feeling. ....(Is this what I am afraid to say?)
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Closer look at my Avoidant disorder
Depression does seem to be a fantastic muse. I don't know what it is but....it's like if they are not written, they are not spoken....and they need to be said. They don't exist if they are not inked. They exist of course (inside my head). Maybe this is a form of validation? I don't know, my head is going in circles. What am I trying to say?
I'm yearning for death. The desire isn't as intense as it was last night when I couldn't think of anything else. But it is praying on my mind. Death is something I look forward to because it will be the only time I am at peace. Everything is chaotic beneath still waters. It stops only for emptiness. And when you are empty- everything is meaningless. I am chaotic today. I think beneath my cool exterior I'm a restless spirit at heart. But unlike other such spirits, I am severely limited in my ability to express. I feel as they feel without the freedom they possess. It's a process of strict restriction. Life is strict restriction. I read a few days ago Avoidants have a need to control. We have an obsessive need to remain restrained in social situations (in my case, even one-on-one with immediate family). I think this is why articles say Avoidant Personality Disorder is more severe than Social Phobia. We are anxious (and therefore obsessively restrained) with everyone. Is it the same for social phobics? Picture someone in public who is either standing or sitting so physically still they could double as a corpse. This person never speaks, and their posture uneasily shifts when you or another tries speaking to them. This person is me. Never underestimate the terror of being seen. Invisibility is the only solace life provides- life denies us everything else.
I still can't envision a future. Every aspect of life seems so bleak. I can't imagine anything which resembles quality of life. I have self-assessed obsessively enough to know my heart's most prominent desire is love. I carry the idea in my bones that love will make everything beautiful. Love will make everything meaningful. My natural skeptical personality questions if this is so. But I settle on even if it isn't true, I would still like to find out because in finding out I will have found love- my heart's deepest desire. It astounds me how love isn't the desire of everyone. I struggle to understand their seek of fame, power, career, sport, adventure, ect and place love on the back burner. Astounding, indeed. No, intriguing. Intriguing, indeed.
Don't mind me, I'm a lonely soul.
I'm yearning for death. The desire isn't as intense as it was last night when I couldn't think of anything else. But it is praying on my mind. Death is something I look forward to because it will be the only time I am at peace. Everything is chaotic beneath still waters. It stops only for emptiness. And when you are empty- everything is meaningless. I am chaotic today. I think beneath my cool exterior I'm a restless spirit at heart. But unlike other such spirits, I am severely limited in my ability to express. I feel as they feel without the freedom they possess. It's a process of strict restriction. Life is strict restriction. I read a few days ago Avoidants have a need to control. We have an obsessive need to remain restrained in social situations (in my case, even one-on-one with immediate family). I think this is why articles say Avoidant Personality Disorder is more severe than Social Phobia. We are anxious (and therefore obsessively restrained) with everyone. Is it the same for social phobics? Picture someone in public who is either standing or sitting so physically still they could double as a corpse. This person never speaks, and their posture uneasily shifts when you or another tries speaking to them. This person is me. Never underestimate the terror of being seen. Invisibility is the only solace life provides- life denies us everything else.
I still can't envision a future. Every aspect of life seems so bleak. I can't imagine anything which resembles quality of life. I have self-assessed obsessively enough to know my heart's most prominent desire is love. I carry the idea in my bones that love will make everything beautiful. Love will make everything meaningful. My natural skeptical personality questions if this is so. But I settle on even if it isn't true, I would still like to find out because in finding out I will have found love- my heart's deepest desire. It astounds me how love isn't the desire of everyone. I struggle to understand their seek of fame, power, career, sport, adventure, ect and place love on the back burner. Astounding, indeed. No, intriguing. Intriguing, indeed.
Don't mind me, I'm a lonely soul.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
An afternoon's reflections
Author's note: This is an excerpt from my private journal entry dated January 24, 2011
You can't underestimate the safety of one's own room. A shut door provides a motherly comfort to those needing an escape. My room is the only sanctuary I know. When I step into the hallway (or on more courageous days the pavement), an inevitable tenseness invades my body and paralyzes my limbs. When confronted with another I rarely speak and never look them in the eye. I partly do this out of fear. But mostly I do this so they can't see the horror which is my face. My sincerest apologies to everyone who has witnessed this fucking monstrosity. I wish it were socially acceptable to wear a mask daily instead of only one night of the year. Perhaps I could face paint and express my inner juggalo? Nah. I'm not a visibly expressive person. I like words. They're safer.
I can't leave the house most days. I'm afraid of the world as though I were agoraphobic. But what is it I fear, exactly? Today, at least, I'm afraid no one sees me as I am (whoever that is) but they see me as I see myself. I think that is one of my biggest fears. My self-perception as worthless is ingrained into my subconscious at such depth the first inkling of confirmation from another sends me into an avoidant and severely depressed pit. I keep thinking what if I meet someone whom I really care for and the slightest hint of rejection sends me into one of these spirals, could this be the motivation to finally end it all? My fantasy love lives always end with me in a coffin. (Even in fantasy I can't see a future in which I'm living). My life is empty of meaning and has been forbidden the graces of love. Is there anything I'm living for?
It's in the afternoon. I'm guessing I sat down to write this around 2 o' clock, its sitting at sixteen after. I bet somewhere in my city or anywhere in the Pacific timezone a couple is lying on a folded blanket in the park snuggling while they listen to the harmonious flow of the nearby lake. At this moment there isn't anyone in the world but them. Envy has stricken my heart as I stare out this veiled window. Arielle, a youtuber, asked on her twitter and facebook a question on what love feels like? I know it as pain and nothing else. But I read replies she received from others expressing how joyous and enriching it has made their lives. God do they know the gift they have been given? And the gift isn't just falling in love and having it returned. But whats it like to fall in love without feeling guilty of selfish desire? When I loved Richie it was the guilt which nearly killed me. In retrospect it was this guilt which lifted me to new heights of my Avoidant disorder. I wonder now if I weren't sick could we have been the couple in the park by the lake? I like to think so but that's the fool in me.
You can't underestimate the safety of one's own room. A shut door provides a motherly comfort to those needing an escape. My room is the only sanctuary I know. When I step into the hallway (or on more courageous days the pavement), an inevitable tenseness invades my body and paralyzes my limbs. When confronted with another I rarely speak and never look them in the eye. I partly do this out of fear. But mostly I do this so they can't see the horror which is my face. My sincerest apologies to everyone who has witnessed this fucking monstrosity. I wish it were socially acceptable to wear a mask daily instead of only one night of the year. Perhaps I could face paint and express my inner juggalo? Nah. I'm not a visibly expressive person. I like words. They're safer.
I can't leave the house most days. I'm afraid of the world as though I were agoraphobic. But what is it I fear, exactly? Today, at least, I'm afraid no one sees me as I am (whoever that is) but they see me as I see myself. I think that is one of my biggest fears. My self-perception as worthless is ingrained into my subconscious at such depth the first inkling of confirmation from another sends me into an avoidant and severely depressed pit. I keep thinking what if I meet someone whom I really care for and the slightest hint of rejection sends me into one of these spirals, could this be the motivation to finally end it all? My fantasy love lives always end with me in a coffin. (Even in fantasy I can't see a future in which I'm living). My life is empty of meaning and has been forbidden the graces of love. Is there anything I'm living for?
It's in the afternoon. I'm guessing I sat down to write this around 2 o' clock, its sitting at sixteen after. I bet somewhere in my city or anywhere in the Pacific timezone a couple is lying on a folded blanket in the park snuggling while they listen to the harmonious flow of the nearby lake. At this moment there isn't anyone in the world but them. Envy has stricken my heart as I stare out this veiled window. Arielle, a youtuber, asked on her twitter and facebook a question on what love feels like? I know it as pain and nothing else. But I read replies she received from others expressing how joyous and enriching it has made their lives. God do they know the gift they have been given? And the gift isn't just falling in love and having it returned. But whats it like to fall in love without feeling guilty of selfish desire? When I loved Richie it was the guilt which nearly killed me. In retrospect it was this guilt which lifted me to new heights of my Avoidant disorder. I wonder now if I weren't sick could we have been the couple in the park by the lake? I like to think so but that's the fool in me.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Life without Depression?
Tonight I browsed through picture albums of a facebook friend. We met six years ago during our senior year of high school (she sat behind me in English), but despite numerous opportunities we have never become closer than acquaintances. I take the fault in this, as it is I with the Avoidant disorder and until recently, to her, I must have fallen off the face of the earth. I joined facebook just two weeks ago, in which I requested her friendship, thus reappearing. I think it was 2008 the last time I had seen/spoken to her. And in 2008 I was squarely immersed in the Avoidant tendencies I am now trying to overcome (by joining facebook, twitter, and starting this blog). On January 11th she turned 24, so I wished her a happy birthday. On January 14th I sent her a message inquiring how she was. Communication lines opened. (p.s. she has replied back)
When we met six years ago I was an unmedicated, undiagnosed Clinical Depressive. When I wasn't morose out of my skull I had a great deal of anxiety and proved to be quite the eccentric. An outlandishly horrid first impression on any level. In my yearbook she wrote, and I paraphrase, "you're weird but still cool." Weird? I assure you I was fucking insane! (I wasn't aware at the time, but the anxiety was a definite precursor to my future Avoidant behavior) To my surprise we came across each others' paths a few times after high school. Most encounters were at college, and I remember one when I unknowingly stopped by her work for a quick burger while I awaited my movie at the cinema to start. College is one thing, considering the campus and that we never once had a class together (yet still crossed paths). But for me to randomly show up at her work? The romantic in me says fate. The skeptic in me says opportunities (which I undeniably failed) But don't misunderstand me, I'm not interested in her in that way. This isn't nostalgia of "what could have been." But I do feel as though we could have been friends. And that's the loss I'm feeling. Jaime (the girl) has never met me; not as I am today. She knew me before I received any help (when I was sinking). I'm afraid the image I have left her may be permanently imprinted in her mind and she will be unable to accept how I have changed and how I have stabilised. I'm also afraid that after these turbulent years the friendship possibilities I encountered and subsequently failed were the only chances I will have.
I guess my self-revelation for tonight is I want to be her friend.
I noticed when I was browsing through her pictures that she smiled in at least 90 % of them. She smiled. When you take into effect the nine years I now have been struggling with Depression; a constant theme is the perception of bleak existence. I can't help but wonder what is life like without Depression? What life is she living which gives her her smile?
Life without Depression? It seems so far away.
When we met six years ago I was an unmedicated, undiagnosed Clinical Depressive. When I wasn't morose out of my skull I had a great deal of anxiety and proved to be quite the eccentric. An outlandishly horrid first impression on any level. In my yearbook she wrote, and I paraphrase, "you're weird but still cool." Weird? I assure you I was fucking insane! (I wasn't aware at the time, but the anxiety was a definite precursor to my future Avoidant behavior) To my surprise we came across each others' paths a few times after high school. Most encounters were at college, and I remember one when I unknowingly stopped by her work for a quick burger while I awaited my movie at the cinema to start. College is one thing, considering the campus and that we never once had a class together (yet still crossed paths). But for me to randomly show up at her work? The romantic in me says fate. The skeptic in me says opportunities (which I undeniably failed) But don't misunderstand me, I'm not interested in her in that way. This isn't nostalgia of "what could have been." But I do feel as though we could have been friends. And that's the loss I'm feeling. Jaime (the girl) has never met me; not as I am today. She knew me before I received any help (when I was sinking). I'm afraid the image I have left her may be permanently imprinted in her mind and she will be unable to accept how I have changed and how I have stabilised. I'm also afraid that after these turbulent years the friendship possibilities I encountered and subsequently failed were the only chances I will have.
I guess my self-revelation for tonight is I want to be her friend.
I noticed when I was browsing through her pictures that she smiled in at least 90 % of them. She smiled. When you take into effect the nine years I now have been struggling with Depression; a constant theme is the perception of bleak existence. I can't help but wonder what is life like without Depression? What life is she living which gives her her smile?
Life without Depression? It seems so far away.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Identity (as seen thru a cloaked veil)
I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
- Emily Dickinson
How does one escape their definition?
Since the fall of 2001 my life has been stricken with the disease affectionately known as Depression. (Fellow brethren, chuck 'affectionately' and put in any word you see fit.) For these last nine years I have seen my mirrored reflection and witnessed nothing but Depression's cloak. To my eyes we are the same entity; we are One. (soul mates)
I assume when others look at me, it is the darkness which prevails on their sight. It is this darkness which tilts their heads away and paralyzes any desire to look again. In my mind this darkness is my entire being.
My heart is fragile and shatters with ease. The mask I wear which speaks of cold ambivalence is a lie. I care deeply for others, and for their opinions of me. When I see them look away, or when they don't look at all, my face stones into an expressionless state. I wish I was as numb as I appear.
Coherent thought has abandoned me today. Looking above I can't seem to string more than a few sentances together. I promise that will change when my mind becomes less clouded.
Are you nobody, too?
- Emily Dickinson
How does one escape their definition?
Since the fall of 2001 my life has been stricken with the disease affectionately known as Depression. (Fellow brethren, chuck 'affectionately' and put in any word you see fit.) For these last nine years I have seen my mirrored reflection and witnessed nothing but Depression's cloak. To my eyes we are the same entity; we are One. (soul mates)
I assume when others look at me, it is the darkness which prevails on their sight. It is this darkness which tilts their heads away and paralyzes any desire to look again. In my mind this darkness is my entire being.
My heart is fragile and shatters with ease. The mask I wear which speaks of cold ambivalence is a lie. I care deeply for others, and for their opinions of me. When I see them look away, or when they don't look at all, my face stones into an expressionless state. I wish I was as numb as I appear.
Coherent thought has abandoned me today. Looking above I can't seem to string more than a few sentances together. I promise that will change when my mind becomes less clouded.
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