Not the best start to the day. I'm tired.
I'm tired of feeling weak.
I'm tired of feeling pathetic.
I'm tired of feeling like a burden.
I'm tired of feeling like a failure.
I'm tired of feeling like there's no hope and no end.
I'm tired of feeling like I'm looking for attention.
I'm tired of feeling incompetent.
I'm tired of feeling better, only to end up back where I belong.
I'm tired of feeling like where I belong is at the bottom.
I'm tired of feeling afraid.
I'm tired of feeling so anxious I can't stop pacing and pulling at my hair.
I'm tired of feeling paranoid and not being able to leave my apartment.
I'm tired of feeling I'm about to lose everything and I have nothing to lose, all at the same time.
I'm tired of feeling.
I'm tired of having to take pills to keep things "level".
I'm tired of pills that don't work.
I'm tired of holding things together.
I'm tired of fighting the negativity ingrained in my own mind.
I'm tired of being alone, because as much as people offer their support, it can only come from the outside, never the inside, where I live.
I'm tired of not saying what I think or how I feel because I don't want to make others feel uncomfortable.
I'm tired of being afraid to fall, in case I can't get back up again.
I'm tired of trying to make myself believe I was ever "up" to begin with.
I'm tired of self sabotage driven by self loathing.
I'm tired of hearing.
I'm tired of hearing "I've been where you are. Things will get better."
I'm tired of hearing "You just need to think positively."
I'm tired of hearing "Have you tried meditation?"
I'm tired of hearing "Have you tried different medication?"
I'm tired of hearing "Have you tried counselling?"
I'm tired of hearing "As bad as it is, it could always be worse."
I'm tired of hearing "It's all in your head."
I'm tired of hearing "Think of the people who love you."
I'm tired of hearing "It will pass."
I'm tired of overcrowded and understaffed hospitals.
I'm tired of useless lists of useless resources with useless solutions and short term commitments.
I'm tired of the only potentially effective resources being priced out of possibility.
I'm tired of "specialists" who can't respond, not even a simple phone call or email, to eight years of constant doctor referrals so you at least feel like you're taken seriously. Like your situation matters enough to warrant consideration and decision, even if it's a "no". That your life matters enough to be acknowledged. That you matter at all.
I'm tired of not being able to sleep at night because I dread having to face another day too soon.
I'm tired of waking up with my first reaction being disappointment I'm still alive.
That I will have to repeat it all.
I hate that my life is all about "again".
I hate my life.
I'm tired of being so tired. Not the best start to the day.
A song for the hell of it: Crowded House "Better Be Home Soon".
It's almost three in the morning, and I'm trying once again to coax myself to bed, when I find my mind turning to my daughter Madi. When she was a little girl, I used to shave my head, and sometimes, as we watched TV, she would curl up in my lap and run her tiny hand back and forth across my bristly scalp. She said she liked the way it felt. It was such a simple gesture, but I remember how close - how connected - it made me feel to her. It was something special only we shared, and it makes me sad now to know I'll never be able to reclaim those moments. As I finally find it in me to call it a night, I do so with mixed emotions. I'm happy for the opportunities that created those memories with her, but I mourn my inability to recognize at the time that eventually, buried amongst everything else that would grow to seem so empirically important, it would be those quiet times between the two of us that will forever matter most. It's regretful that we only gain true wisdom through experience, but I suppose it's also only by the loss of something that we can appreciate the measure of its true value. Goodnight Madigan, I love you and I'm sorry I didn't hold you tighter when I had you curled so close.
Well that was an all-nighter and there's still more to go. Made some headway on some work, so at least it wasn't a waste of anything other than sleep. We'll see how long I can go before I sneak a nap. I have to be careful because if I remain awake too long I can edge into a manic phase and the next thing I know, a week has gone by and I haven't made it to bed.
Still, it's Friday and should be treated as such. That's why I've decided to work without pants. In my office, every Friday is no-pants Friday. Of course, in my office, no one ever seems to want to hang around for long. I choose to believe it's a coincidence but then again, I also run on little sleep and a questionable lack of good judgement.
For everyone else getting up and on their way, be happy knowing you don't have to share a desk next to mine and everything else should be a bonus today. Oh, and don't forget to be awesome.
A jingle for the pants: The Cure "Friday I'm in Love".
My brain feels like I'm riding an electric unicorn bull fueled by equal parts Tequila and Skittles. The best part is, the saddle and my mental pants are both made of Lego and fit together like my ego and the studliest fedora that money can buy. I am a creative God. Or at least as close as an Atheist can get. Or I'm just full of shit. Does it matter which, if I'm happy and I didn't make anyone else suffer to get here?
For everyone who only ever sees doom and gloom from me on here, I want to let you know I've been (primarily) experiencing a boost of mania over the last two days. One of my longest stretches yet. Makes my brain move too fast to keep up with sometimes so I still have some difficulty concentrating and completing tasks, but at least I laugh for little reason while I'm falling behind.
I was accepted into Western for the fall and today I handed in, what I hope to be, the last paperwork required for my OSAP application so with any luck, sometime in my early to mid fifties this will be me, but with an actual cap and gown and not a throw pillow and a bed sheet. I may keep the USB cord for a tassel though.
A theist addresses a comment or situation with a religious statement. This is an expression of their views.
An atheist addresses a religious comment or action with a statement criticizing religion. This is an expression of their views.
One is entitled to their beliefs and should be respected as well as allowed to voice their thoughts openly, as is their right. The other is a bully and should remain silent as everyone is entitled to their own opinion, except apparently, theirs.
An open stance against religion is viewed as an intolerant attack while an open display of religious perspective is a sacred act, beyond reproach and exempt from criticism and challenge.
I may not agree with your views, but I fully stand behind your right to have them and even voice them. However, if you don't want me to openly express my opinion regarding religion, don't openly express yours. Freedom of speech is not a one-sided privilege, only entitled to those who's convictions are vulnerable to injured feelings. You have the right to hold your beliefs and speak your mind. You don't have the right to not be offended. You don't like being challenged in an open exchange, take your ball and go home. Me, I'm staying right here and exercising my right to free speech, whether it hurts your feelings or not.
It's Saturday. I've showered, shaved, dressed, and even washed the dishes. Right now there's a load of laundry in the washer and I'm spending time in the vicinity of my phone enslaved daughter. Still, interactive or not, it's always better when she's here buried in Snapchat than when she's not here at all. I have to work this afternoon to make up for some anxiety/depression driven lost time these last couple of weeks but I'm at the computer and about to get the show on the road.
Can anyone answer something for me? Why is it that the whole time my daughter is with me she's on her phone, but whenever I try to contact her, the phone is never "working"?
A Saturday-better-than-last-Saturday tune: Simply Red "If You Don't Know Me By Now".
Little sleep and a late start, but new clothes after a shower, a coffee in hand, and my trusty koala earmuffs holding down a mountain of hair, and I'm ready to tackle Friday. Here's to hoping that Friday is not getting ready to tackle me.
Friday's sing-song-single: The Cars "Shake It Up".
I think love is the most powerful force in the Universe. Like if something was riding on the back of a Tyrannosaurus Rex that was wearing a super robot body with laser-guided, nuclear missiles and sporting some mad ninja skills; that would be love. Something wearing a moustache would work too. Moustaches make everything more badass.