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.

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