Contradictions Ahead

So I'm kinda hoping that by this point no one actually reads my lame blog. Like most people I have that weird feeling that everyone is gonna laugh at me when I try and express my genuine feelings. Having no readers really makes that concern less of an issue.

So basically I came here to just throw up some sort of funny picture to go along with the one thing I have to say: I am lonely. These past two months have just been really lonely.

Yea, turns out being lonely really isn't funny. I didn't need Google Image Search to tell me that, but it certainly confirmed it.

People...

People make me sad a lot of the time.

Maybe I am just such a different person than most people. To most I am just a funny person. Then they figure out I am fairly reserved and pretty guarded. What some people end up realizing is that I am actually something else altogether. I'm emotional, caring, protective, and sympathetic to those I hold dear. I give a lot of myself to others even if they don't realize or appreciate it. At the same time, I am also pretty moody and touchy about stuff. Sensitive to what is said to me or how I'm treated. I hold friends and people I care about in high regard, so when I feel like they don't do the same I end up feeling pretty hurt.

Sometimes I question if it's all in my head. Maybe I overreact or I judge others harshly. Should I expect so much from people? When I ask these questions, usually I end end up getting angry with myself. "Yes, you ARE overreacting. No, you SHOULDN'T expect so much from people. You are a crazy person and you're lucky enough that anyone would even want to spend a small amount of time with you!" Somehow I've turned it all around on myself. This makes me figure that yea, it probably is just my issues and not the fault of others.

So the question becomes, do people make me sad or is it that I make myself sad for caring about people?

Enough Space

I understand that I am extremely blessed. In times such as these, to have a place to stay makes me a lucky man. When I have a job that will barely let me work at all, resulting in me only making enough money to pay off my medical insurance bill each month, having my family to keep me from being homeless is something to be grateful for. Too bad I am an ingrate.

Seriously, this situation is just NOT working for me. It is beyond frustrating to be here and have no space of my own. I can't even keep all of my clothes in the same room, let alone a room I can call mine. I have a bed in a corner with a small bookshelf next to it. That's basically it. Everything else is either stashed or stored or in a hallway or under a bed. Of course I am not unwelcome here, but really, how am I supposed to feel when I know I just don't fit in?

Want to hear something sad? I basically stay up late at night, not because I am a nite-owl or anything like that, but because I am waiting for a moment where people finally go away to their own beds and I get a moment of peace. I have to wait until 1 in the morning just to escape, feel like I'm not surrounded. I really just want some time to sit, alone, for a moment or two. I need that feeling of just being by myself. Solitary.

Maybe it's because I've basically had to share space for my entire life. Except maybe the first 4 or 5 years of my life, I've never had a room of my own. Okay, I've gotten a space of my own maybe once or twice, but none of those situations ever lasted even close to a year's time. Those of you who have, well, I really hope you appreciate it. Cause seriously, I'm starting to think that the fact that I have been deprived of it for most of my life is really taking a toll.

I'm...I'm upset.

There's really not much else I can say. Or do.

One Big Holiday

It's just another one of those days. "Those days" where nothing specific happens but I can actually feel myself falling downward. Down the drain and into that dark space where all I can see is the bad stuff. I don't expect anyone to feel bad for me or anything, it's not like something particular happened today. This stuff seems to happen all the time now. I understand that there are factors in AND out of my control that contribute to this sucky feeling, I just wish it wasn't happening. Period.

Each time this happens, I seem to find some other piece of my life I am dissatisfied with to focus on. This time it is the whole job thing. I'm pissed with myself for being less than grateful that I've found a job. I'm angry that I didn't do enough early on so I could get a job I would be happy with. I'm upset that I can't figure out some way to make a living so I can be more independent and leave home once again. I'm bothered by the way I don't feel like I fit in, no matter where I am. Oh, and I'm beyond angry that I get tired so goddamned fast and it hurts to walk, stand, or even bend down to sit.

Now it's not like I expect all or even one or two of these things to change. It's more probable they will never change. That's my experience anyway. The only thing I can even imagine happening is some sort of crazy miracle, where in the end I end up happy and everything works out perfect without me even trying. Do you know why that would happen? It would happen because it would just be another moment of the universe screwing with me. Messing with my mind and proving once more that I know nothing at all.

So what conclusions have I come to today? Well, I need to get used to sudden moments of depression. I should also find a partner and we should go out on the road as grifters, conning people out of their savings so that I can one day live comfortably. Then I won't have to think so hard about the stuff I have been worrying about today. Instead I'll just have to worry about things like being arrested or being double-crossed or something like that. I would much rather worry about that crazy stuff anyway. Better to deal with insanity than the mundane.

Oh, and if I could find someone to keep me company, that'd be great too. Actually, that would be pretty huge.

Being The Best Me I Can Be

It's amazing how swift my mood can change, and how the darkness seems to sweep over me. Call it momentary depression, call it being childish, but it is what it is. Just thinking about the past couple of years, I don't think up until now I ever really experienced such extreme emotions before on such a constant basis. It's weird to think that it is probably my brain playing tricks on me. Just thinking that my brain could be responsible for so many things is such a frustrating matter. I can't tell if the feelings I have are genuine, or exacerbated versions of what I would have been able to easily shrug off otherwise. What's genuine anymore?

That stuff makes it real hard to relate to and interact with almost everyone. Am I angry with so and so for a good reason or am I being unreasonable? Is this person unbelievably irritating or is it just me? Do I even really like this person or am I just looking to find more voices to drown out my own? I've always had trouble with people anyway, but now I find myself in an even stranger spot. It's harder to deal with people these days, and this is a time when I need them the most. I can say this though, I am trying my best. In some instances I think I am doing okay, but probably in most instances I come off looking crazy, mean, gross, weird, or like a complete asshole. Can't expect most people to understand how my personality and thought-process works these days, but was it that easy to understand before?


On a night like tonight, I think I just get overwhelmed with being me and all that entails. Tomorrow maybe I'll be awesome and rock at being Damon, but tonight I am not equipped to handle being me. I think I'll go jump off some metaphorical cliff or something. Maybe I can build wings on the way down.

Predictions

This week is going to be very interesting. I am in for some major highs and probably some major lows too. I expect that I am going to be ALL over the place mood-wise. I think though, that if everything goes right I will be a happy camper. But if things don't go exactly as I want, I am gonna be super bummed or extra pissed-off. Just thinking about it all right now makes me kinda freaked. Well, maybe I'll be able to talk about it all by next week. We'll see...

Betty Jo

I was off at school. It was my third year of college. I was living in an apartment in Newport Beach. Well, it was BARELY Newport Beach. Just on the border. I could see no beach. What I could see was school, which needed to be nearby because I was going to be walking. I was in my own world, away from my family and away from their goings-on.

What was happening back at home wasn't great. My grandmother's health was in a nose dive. She'd been diagnosed with cancer, and from that point things just seemed to move faster and faster. I was around when I could be, but I wasn't really there. Her time in the hospital. The move to one of those homes where there are nurses to take care of her. Her move back to her old home where my aunt lives now. I think I was there probably once for each of those.

One night I was at my apartment getting ready to go shopping for a birthday gift for my sister. My friend Brian was coming by and we were gonna go to a local record store (since apparently I have no idea how to shop for a girl). Before he arrived, I got a call from my mom telling me that she had died. It was awful to hear and all I could think of was how I had planned to go see her soon but I didn't. It was too late. I had missed my chance. My grandmother had died and that night I went out shopping at a record store. That just didn't seem right. Brian asked me if anything was wrong, but I didn't say anything about what happened (but he found out a couple years later and had one of those "ooohhh" moments).

I missed out though. I missed out on quite a bit, I'm sure. I missed the sorrow. I missed so much of the hard work and worry my mom had. I overlooked the depression my mom went through afterwards as well. What I really missed though was the time with my grandmother. She wasn't very lucid towards the end, but shouldn't I have been there just a little more anyway? I missed out, I'm sure.

I think what actually bothers me though is that it happened when it did. Our time-lines just didn't match up. I would love to talk to her so much if she was here today. I'm not only talking about important stuff, but silly stuff too. She dug the TV show Buffy the Vampire Slayer and I came to that party long after it was over. "OMG, grandma, how crazy was that episode with no dialog?! Or that one where she sacrificed herself???" Okay, yea, silly.

Really though, I'd like to talk to her about my MS. My grandfather, who I never even met, lived with MS and it'd be interesting to hear anything she had to say on all of that, good or bad. That's the one question I'd wanna ask if I could. That or I'd ask for her to help me out with her afterlife-vision. She could tell me what I need to do to become crazy successful and happy. Oh, and if she knows where the heck my collection of buttons/pins I had as a kid went. I wanna find those!

Grandma, I love you. :)

Love Letter To A Friend

I made a mistake. I did, and I take full responsibility. I took your friendliness, your caring, and your good nature and I interpreted it as something it wasn't. I read signals wrong and I walked down the wrong path. Once I started walking in that direction, I stayed course and lost touch with reality. I liked you. I liked you more than you liked me (obviously). I opened myself up to vulnerability knowing that I'd probably end up hurt, but when it happened I was surprised. Why? Because I am stupid. But also because it was you. I looked at you with blinders on and sometimes I still do. Those rose colored glasses that reveal the beauties of life, the ones I can never seem to get a hold of. It's fine though, I don't blame you. My intensities, my quirks, those things that make me, me... those things weren't a right fit. Not for you. It just stung, you know? Hurt.

Here's the problem though. You want me to get back on that path, the friend path. I do too. I had fun there, being your friend. I'm working on it, but it's just a bit difficult. You are somewhere where you can still see me as a good friend. I'm somewhere else, where I don't know how to feel, where the scars are still visible, and where every stupid decision I made is still front and center. It would be sooo nice to hear your voice, but it only reminds me of how dumb I was to think I was anything more than what I actually was...

Your friend,

Damon