Swelltide.

My life has gotten away from me. I don't blame anyone but myself.

I've wasted time. I've wallowed and bitched. I only half-heartedly attempt to get close to people, get to know people or reciprocate when the time comes. There will always be this distance between me an others-- and I'm not sure where it comes from.

More support would have been nice. I accept material support when what I want it emotional. I accept emotional support when what I want is material. It never is what I really want. Who am I kidding? I don't know what I want.

I know that I don't want to be a victim anymore. I know that I don't want to settle. I know that I can't remain stuck forever. I know that being unhappy all of the time will some day kill me, one way or another. I don't want to just be moody guy anymore...

Swelltide.

I am nearly finished with the blog and nearly finished with a great many things...

Not sure why I am even writing.

I want for everything to be different. And, I can't change anything. I want to have been born to a different family. I wish I had been born to a family where education was important, and where wanting the best for your child was what was important. It isn't. It wasn't. I never was. I want to have been born into a family where family comes before something else.

Sometimes, when I watch television, and the kids grow up... go off to college.. the parents had saved for their collage. When I think of my friends, whose parents had saved for their education. When their parents had felt an obligation to their kids... The family gets together and eats together and the family is a unit.

It isn't always possible to do for yourself. It is, however, possible to do for those that came after...

I don't want to be a drain on society. I want to create. I want to inspire...

Swelltide.

Sometimes, I feel like nothing is real. I hear people taking to one another and I infer insecurities, bravado and the things that go unsaid. I watch people interact with one another. The distance. Even in our movements and the ways we carry ourselves, we reveal ourselves-- in the little ways we try to lie to each other.

I can't explain it.

I have been fantasizing about leaving. Again. Just letting the bills go unpaid. The house how it is. Just, pack up only the things we need and go. No money. No phones. Just ourselves, a few blankets and clothes. 

I am not unhappy. I am stuck. I feel stuck, and I want out. 

Swelltide.

My counseling hasn't been enough. On some level, I haven't been honest with myself; I haven't been honest with the people around me. What do you have, if you don't have truth? There are some big things that I haven't been honest about. And, I've bottled up a lot of guilt, shame, remorse...

I hate who I am. I am not happy. That is where it starts; being honest with yourself. I am not happy with my life and I am not happy with myself. I do not like the compromise of character that I have made for so many years. This affects everything. The relationship that I have with my girlfriend, my work and my family.

So. I must prove to myself, to the ones I love-- that my word is truth. Is real. That I say what I mean and act as I speak.

Swelltide.

I feel an intense unease with nearly everything. I cannot be happy, like I should be. I cannot feel rested like I should. I cannot seem to make head or tails of what I feel or what I think. My moments of clarity and contentment are so brief... I am not happy with my job and I am not happy when I'm home. And, change doesn't seem to come fast enough or even in the way that I want it.

Why do I do this to myself? Think everything to death... Expect the worst... I don't understand it.

swelltide.

Things remain complicated. I do not enjoy digging up the past, spending a lot of time thinking about the more unenjoyable aspects of my life. Reliving moments I've spent most of my life trying not to deal with in the first place.

I don't think a person every really gets over things. Maybe you grow, forgive or manage enough that your hang-ups aren't the center piece of your existence anymore. But, there will always be times when pain or resentment comes back in full force.

That aspect of my ordeals I have not yet learned to cope with.

Swelltide.

This is likely to be a long and rambling post, because I am nearly drunk and because I've been doing a lot of thinking.

I'm in a weird, reflective mood, and I've done a lot of quiet, solemn thinking the last couple of days. About everything. God, who I am not sure that I believe in anymore. Friends, which I don't have many of anymore. Love. Life. The real value of things, and the real meaning of things.

As a teenager, everything seemed so full of purpose. Maybe, it was having the whole of my life ahead of me. Feeling like anything was possible. Feeling like anything could and would happen. A lot of things did happen. I moved away from home only a few months after I turned eighteen. It doesn't really matter that I moved back home only a few months later. I lived more in those few months than I have in the years since.

To be thirty (or almost thirty) and to look back on my teenage years still. It tells me that my life since has been mostly wasted, which is something that I loath to admit, and it tells me that I need to change some things. School has been a good start on that-- starting over, but I need more. I need to know that there is still  joy and meaning to living.

 I think of things like; if I were to die, who would come to my funeral? I don't know the answer and I'm not sure that I really want to. I haven't made any meaningful friendships in years. I haven't met anyone worth being friends with in years. I can't blame it on everyone else anymore. My girlfriend can seem to make friends at school, work-- wherever she goes. Friends and family. They can find people to connect with and mesh with. Why can't I?

I could say now, that I feel isolated BECAUSE of being bipolar. I have a hard time socially BECAUSE of being bipolar. But, I don't accept that, at all. If only there were another person that I knew that was a carbon-copy of myself. I would get along great with myself.

I used to meet people everywhere I went. I would talk to anyone. I would approach anyone. And now, I ask myself things like, 'was it because I was in a manic phase?' It robs me. Bipolar steals every bit of meaning. I have become, fore reasons I don't fully understand, so isolated. Socially awkward. Hesitant. Full of doubt.

And, I hate it.

I can spend all day at school without the need to talk to anyone. I can be around people for hours without feeling any need to talk to anyone. I can come home and waste hours doing nothing. Then, like tonight, I can keep myself awake for hours with worry and regrets. With a longing for some kind of connection with someone that I don't have.

I really don't understand it.