Monthly Archives: April 2013

And… Just like that, it’s gone.

My great mood, rapidly dissipated.  Depression set in with a blink of an eye.  So don’t blink or you’ll miss it.  Too late it’s already happened.

While I was in good spirits earlier this evening, things have completely reversed.  You know what?  Fuck it!  Fuck this hiding behind shit.  I don’t know where I’m going.  Don’t have any real sense of guidance or structure in my life.  What do I know?  HA.  I’m not in school any more.  Much to the deception of the vast majority of my family.  And no, that’s not to worry about repercussions on my behalf or anything of the sort.  It’s because I worry about disappointing them, so I play along.  “Yes uncle, I have finals coming up.” As if…

So what sparks this random bit of lashing out in anger and frustration.  I don’t know.. Maybe I missed my meds for a couple days, I can’t recall.  BUT what I do KNOW is that there are people who care about me, people I have looked up to, then suddenly seem to turn my back on without any motive or sense of what I’m doing.  A mentor of mine sent me an email about a week ago, I just now looked at my tech email, after going over a whole month of neglecting it.  He wanted to check in on me.  I nearly fell apart…  still am I guess… Maybe I will before the mind loses focus and unconsciousness follows.

I might try to reach out to him tomorrow just to let him know what’s going on.  I should be honest with everyone really.  I should…  But it is hard sometimes.. Hell ALL the time.  Especially when you are hearing expressions of disappointment at the thought of something like dropping out of school again.  Yeah, there was a time when I was going to be honest with my uncle, but I sort of tested the waters if you will, and behold, my vessel capsized as I felt stranded at sea.  Needless to say I got no response that let me believe it was okay to talk to him about what was really going on. 

Fuck… Why’s everything got to be so difficult?  It’s all so hard.  So cold, so relentless.  This is me.  Most of the time.

I spend my time worrying about the future without planning how to keep it stable.  I spend much of my time concerned how my actions will affect others, rarely reflecting on what’s best for me until it’s too late to have a good outcome.  It just turns into a salvage mission.  Too bad life don’t let you have room for much of those.  If you’re always salvaging you aren’t making much progress of any sort.  These people I trusted in school.  They are no more essentially.  Oh, how I wish they were.  How I wish they might be the friends I desire but definitely don’t deserve.  That they could help me on this journey of finding myself.  God knows I’m lost as Hell. 

Still, not much has changed in my mind in terms of the future.  Just a lot of confusion in the present.  If only reality weren’t so…  Ruthless.  Maybe, just maybe I could stand on my own two feet and scream back at it “You hear me fucker? I’m still here and I’m not planning on going anywhere soon!”  But I can’t, because it IS ruthless, so much that I’m oppressed by my very being.  Alas, what’s a crazy person to do?

Humbugs and Doodlepops

I’m so tired of being deceitful to so many people.  Including myself at times.  I mean, it’s not that hard to tell the truth right? Tch… about the only person I’m always truthful with if not for equivocation, is the one person who keeps me sane.  At least when she’s not driving me to insanity… I kid of course (not really (yes I do (but only a little bit (no it’s actually a lot ( but don’t tell her anything about these meta parentheses))))) 

And here I sit, committed to my few “really great” friends.  In ponderance of thousands of dollars on my behalf.  I make rash decisions, but they are usually full of concern and care for others, rarely myself.  Although, that being said, I am also apt to impulse buy.  Zebo is the friend of which I now speak.  Of course that isn’t his real name, but much like my familiar name, Nezzo, it’s how we sometimes refer to each other.  Bromance, what have you.

I talk of giving up one of my more recent addictions. It’s for a greater purpose.

You know it’s funny.  I got on here to reveal some truths and complain about how I lie a lot to people.  I find myself parting from something kind of “close” to me I guess you’d say, to be able to help out a best friend.  Bipolar disorder much? No… That’s just me 🙂

False Wisdom

I would say that I was once full of wisdom, but I have become wiser since then.  Wise enough to know that I shall never be full of wisdom.  I used to write and quibble nonsense, give it an appropriate context, shovel it into someone’s brain and be on my merry way.  It worked well enough I suppose.  I never received any real complaints on the subject.  Thing is, I don’t know which of the three reasons this is due to. 

1: People were less wise than myself, and could not tell I was so full of shit so they did not ever approach me for being wrong, having perceived I was correct enough

2: People did not think my “advice” imparted upon them was of any real value, negative or positive, and were rather just my thoughts and they’d let me have my moments, or otherwise didn’t listen and just appeased me, something to these effects

3: My wisdom was beyond myself. 

Two of those reasons are very self centered in a way.  I tend to believe it is mostly number 2 that is most accurate, but I would like to indicate I have perceived evidence of the others as well.  So point being, I never can know. 

Sometimes I spoke of learned wisdom.  Someone else’s learned wisdom imparted to me.  And used it as my own, to sound as if though I survived some sort of traumatic experience that benefited me with some great knowledge.  But, I mean, give me a break, in a way I did.  Well suffer a traumatic experience I mean.

This wisdom, I don’t know if it’s fair to call it that.  I don’t really know what to call it though. It often arose from places one would not expect to look.  Video games, movies, TV, or books, particularly manga and comic books, to name a few places.  I could think so much about one particular thing that it would attain a new meaning as means for philosophy.  I could drag out so many examples of what I mean, but it would be practically pointless unless to point out my blatant irrelevancy and perhaps even a fringe of my insanity. 

Ah… But interestingly enough, it’s also this thinking that led me to an amazing person in my life.  This incessantly nagging mind that would never quell its reasoning, should do some good every now and then.  Much to my amazement.  And now a pocket watch has new meaning in my life. It’s an interesting story.  Perhaps one for another time however.  I was speaking of my false influence on other people’s lives for the moment.  I used to say inspiring things, when I myself was not inspired.  They seem to cease as my mind’s deterioration slowed and in turn I grew less contemplative of complex things.  I started to be more satisfied with the way things are instead of questioning how things could be. 

It was this turn in thought that led me away from interesting and creative works, at least in my opinion.  Now my works are much more analytical in nature than creative, but there is a good balance every once and again. 

My father’s accident.

It was a difficult event in my life.  It still is.  Why I chose to segway to this, I don’t know.  But let me talk about it a bit.  My father, he owned a pest control business.  Did everything right to fulfill the American dream see?  Was raising his kid with good morals and integrity.  He worked hard to see his dreams come to fruition.  He treated people fairly, as far as I, a kid, could tell.  One day, he was on the job, setting rat traps in an attic.  The rafters broke and he fell through, to the concrete ground below.  He sustained a very serious head injury, he was in a coma for a while.  All the time, people kept telling me motivating things.  None of which I believed, many of which made me more upset that no one was being realistic about this.  Maybe that’s exactly when my brain “cracked” and it just took a few years for those cracks to cause some serious damage.  I was told things like he was just faking it to get out of work for a bit.  I would think “Lady, who in their right mind would fake this to do that?”.

For the first few days, I cried a lot, slept very little, wondered even more than I cried, would he live?  Now, 12 years later, I think to myself, it would have been easier had he not.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want him to die, or wish that he had, but it certainly would be easier.

Here’s where I would normally rant about insurance companies and introduce you to my view on politics.  But really… I don’t care any more.  I mean, companies are out there to make money, not provide you with excellent care, service or products.  They will do this on occasion however, if it tends to benefit their pocketbooks.  But that’s simply not the case in this particular instance.  And politics?  Well I certainly do have a view, but I don’t judge the “other sides” of my views as harsh as the rest of my family.  I do disagree with people blindly following forms of rhetoric though.  I can identify that a bit better at least thanks to some great schooling in high school on the part of one of my favorite teachers.

Anyway, that’s what happened to my father.  For now, my head pounds, with quite an ache, I fear I’ve gone ill. But I will return another time to tell another story and to allude to some more of my background.  May the force be with you, young padawan readers.

All is Quiet on the Western Front

So I’m doing pretty ok right now.  Great in fact.  Quite fantastic even I would go as far as to say.  Windy made it home safe and sound.  Poor little girl is tuckered out.  I’m glad she’s home though.  Now to approach new problems.  None in the immediate future it seems.  But more than a host to still tend to.  I wish I could elaborate, but I feel it isn’t the time just yet.  No… Not yet.  A million words rush through my head in these moments.

Nothing.

They all mean nothing.  Not only in the grand scheme of things, but in terms of personal context, I find no resonance with myself.  Again, I seem to be separated from self.  I listen to a song, as per my love’s request.  It’s a nice song, I appreciate when she asks me to listen to songs she has picked out.  It’s a nice way to end the night.  Well… “End” the night.  I supposed the night won’t be ended until I finish this post.

Temptation creeps in to end this one early, but I have yet to complete my mission.  Wait.  What was my mission again?  I know I have not accomplished it yet, however I cannot recall what it was or is.  Is it no longer that important?

Ah, yes I can recall it now.  I wished to speak a bit about myself, as I wish to have a sort of pattern for each of these posts.  It should be quite obvious after reading a few posts. 

Anyway…  I don’t know what I can say that will contain any sort of relevance tonight.  Perhaps I should just ramble a bit.  No? That doesn’t seem entirely right does it?  Well maybe I’ll have something EXCITING to write soon.  Until then, I seem pretty calm, so goodnight ya’ll, it’s been an “uneventful” day.

The First Grief-Filled Entry

So, I realized that a moment ago was my chance to leave an introductory note on me other than about just this blog. I, well I am a nerd, through and through. Perhaps I can explain something to you. Since I was little, I always tried to impose a sort of binary view on the world, a black and white picture if you will. There are those who do, and those who don’t, those who can, and can’t. But perhaps the most impacting philosophy that came of this was that there are nerds. And there are bullies. I couldn’t even fathom why a person would want to be a bully, so I took it upon myself to become a nerd, someone who would indirectly oppose bullies. This also generated interests in “nerdy” areas, like math, science, video games (before video games were awesome), really anything academic or in the culture of nerd. My latest venture into the culture is consuming my wallet, but I guess comics can do that.

Anyway, I’m rambling, allow me to turn off my music to hopefully focus my thought. I suppose the point is that I saw the world in black and white and chose to be the oppressed instead of the oppressors, as I like to think many people would, but I’d probably be disappointed in the reality of things. I stood up for friends who were being picked on, felt the wrath of people who did not like my “tone” or “image”. Sustained injuries, mostly to my ego, throughout middle school. I suppose that in conjunction with the essential loss of a father, can certainly mix a kid up for a year or dozen… And then some.

Anyway, more on my perceived leading to my bipolar disorder and history another day perhaps, let’s get crunching on what is making me tick this very moment.

I feel “dead”. I feel that I’m exhausting all my energy to convey and focus these very thoughts. My body seems to be attempting to be refusing to act as a conduit of my conscious and actions. Like this very concept of moving is a foreign and potentially fatal. Ironic then that I compare it to feeling dead. I suppose separated is a more appropriate word.
Why you may ask, well, any number of reasons. Some I don’t feel too comfortable to reveal just yet, all in good time I suppose, maybe another day, for these particular matters at hand won’t subside by the morning.

Something that is crushing me… My dog, she may not make it much longer. Now if anyone at all is reading this and can relate allow me to add. Not only is my dog family. She is my support. I could not write enough details of how this is true. I have been on the verge of suicide. Teetering at the edge of insanity, refusing to climb down. And one look at her, all I need to be pacified. You see we got her the year of my dad’s accident so I would not be alone at the house all the time. She became much more than a pet, she’s a sister. And now her time is nearly here and I’m still not ready to let go. If I could count the times I had fallen in the floor beside her in tears, trying to regain some sort of sense. If I could recall every time I buried my face in her fur as I bawled, all while she just laid there seemingly understanding. She’s my sis… And a damn good one at that. If she goes gently into the night on this evening, well I’ll be sure to write about her some more I am sure, but it may be a while.

Anyway, unfortunately I’m feeling rather drained at the moment and am ready to welcome the idea of sleep, maybe I’ll return with good news and new stories to tell soon.. Only time will tell.

The Initial Post

So… This is my first, “real” blog.  First off, I expect very few (if anyone) to read this.  But for those few who do, I hope I can but enlighten you and expose you to what it’s like to have Bipolar Disorder.  First off, writing helps me. A lot.  So that’s why I’m choosing to do this.  Next, yeah, if you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m sure you won’t be winning a nobel prize in the field of understanding blatant context, but at any rate, I have Bipolar Disorder.  I’m looking to explore a daily or weekly avenue to vent and explore what I’m thinking.  I suppose that’s it for the moment, look for another post, either in a few hours or days, you know, whenever I get around to it.  Til then, I bid thee farewell, friends.