Swelltide.

It seems stupid.

I've been in a slump for the last several weeks. Feeling unmotivated. Feeling down. And now, there is the news about Robin Williams' death. It has everyone talking about depression and suicide. I'm having to change the channel or station when it comes on the T.V. or radio. I can't handle the chemically balanced talking speculatively about what it is like living with depression. Then, of course, the religiously-minded making terrible assumptions on where the guy went (or didn't go to) in the afterlife.

There seems little hope to me now, again, that if such a successful person-- having the money and children, fame and the attention of millions-- that I might ever be a fully functioning and completely happy person. Robin Williams, apparently, was very outspoken about being bipolar and living with the ups and downs. It isn't his suicide that makes now makes me feel so hopeless. It is the acknowledgement that this is a life-long and non-consensual commitment that has been made for me and against my will. I will be dealing with this shit for the rest of my life. An ideal that has been reinforced daily with the news coverage.

I wasn't aware prior that he was one of bipolar's own. He was a great actor and one that I liked more in a non-comedic role. Dead Poets Society or What Dreams May Come (though not a great movie in my opinion, but one in which his acting is superb). Is there not anyone in which there is a touch of madness that can't seem to live beyond it? I would really like to know.

http://www.nydailynews.com/entertainment/gossip/robin-williams-battle-depression-spotlights-celebrities-mental-illnesses-article-1.1900493

http://www.famousbipolarpeople.com/robin-williams.html

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.

Even the closest people to me don't often know the extent of my worry, fear and depression. Rightfully so, maybe.

I am not capable of feeling much of anything at times. Numb is too mild of a word-- oblivious would be better. Void. Null. I could receive the world's best, or worse, news and the real emotional impact would be nothing. I have felt this way for the last several days. Being around family. Having semi-meaningful conversation with friends. I am finding meaning nor contentment in anything at the moment.

I have decided to take a break from school this fall. Whatever it might do to my getting the classes that I need later. I could use being able to spend a little money when I wish to. Saving money. Having the time and resources to do the things that I want to do.

I have also decided not to pursue therapy any longer. I get little out of it, beyond having the privilege of paying someone to listen to all of my petty problems. Not to say that for some it doesn't serve a purpose. Honestly, I think I just haven't had great luck finding the right shrink, but I don't have the time or money to shop around. I have, and have little to show for it. Not any sense of emotional growth or breakthrough.

Swelltide.

So. She asked me about therapy and I honestly thought we had talked about it. Nope. I forgot to schedule an appointment and just let it go. Money and time. Besides, I wasn't getting much out of it.

The last few days, I have been feeling out of sorts. Today, I am tired and feeling a little down.

We'd made plans to start working out after work-- which I need to stick with. I feel better. Sharper. Just have to muster the energy to do it.

Lately, I call and she doesn't answer. She's busy. But it frustrates me and I begin to feel isolated. More isolated.

Swelltide.

I want to move. I want a break.

I've had a pretty terrible day. Work stuff, which isn't really important. Or, shouldn't be. I've been promised training and advancement into a direction that I want to go... Only, to find out today that it won't happen. Not really a surprise, but I was hopeful... Today, was a completely disorderly day. Jerked around for no reason, and wasted a lot of time. Also, not really a surprise...

My birthday is this weekend. My sister is coming into to town... and my birthday has become a family gathering-- that has nothing to do with my birthday. I haven't committed to going, and I won't. If it were my brother's birthday or my sister's birthday, we'd be having dinner. We would be hanging out.

I'm done with commitments. I am done with being an afterthought.

I need away from my parents. For a while. Years, maybe. I need to let go of all the resentment I've been feeling and I need to feel like I'm getting somewhere. It is all about perceptions, apparently-- which I 'learned' in therapy during my last session.

Everyone always asks why I don't just talk about it. Whenever I speak up-- it always becomes somehow, that I am being selfish. The truth is, my parents I think, think that emotions are indulgent. They don't allow themselves the freedoms of being so... selfish? angry? I don't know. But, it doesn't work. Whenever I try to have a serious conversation, it is turned around on me. It becomes reflective of them and I don't want to hear it anymore. I don't have to deal with it anymore. I don't have to buy into the bullshit of 'they did the best with what they had...'

Crap.

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.

At work, sitting on a picnic table and waiting. In a reflective mood, and have been for several days. I've been tired also. Quiet. Impatient.

To grandma's house we go. Road-trip with the family this weekend. To be honest, I don't want to go. I have resentment bubbling up inside me-- and I am worried that I might have one of those moments where I am a little too honest with people. How sad, that a person should worry about honesty. With their family.

I am back in therapy, due in part (a large part) to making the same poor decisions. I feel less equipped to deal with lingering emotional things this go-round. I don't really want to deal with the same ghosts. Only, my girlfriend is onboard-- and equally tiresome is moving backward.