And it all makes you want to scream

A little something from the late great Michael Jackson - Scream

I've been mapping out my past, a common enough task I think, and I've found there are many benefits. You gain a degree of self-learning, a clarification of your understanding of the past, an improvement of your appreciation of good memories and good poeple, and a great story.

There are dangers though: wallowing in self-pity, obsession on the past, renewed bitterness, over-attachment to this life, etc.

But perhaps the most repeated lesson I've found looking over my past is that things were never as bad as I thought they were, nor are they ever as good.

Looking at the past also helps put the present in perspective. I can say that my current life has been a bit rough at times (though not nearly as rough as the life of others mind you), but looking back I find it's amazing that my life is at least better than this period or that period, and so it's not that bad, and I ought to thank God that I got past those past crises because they were pretty damn bad.

Take for example my crisis of April/May 2008 - where I was almost certain I was going to fail a number of classes and need to take another semester (although in retrospect it may have been a good idea to take another semester and get a CS double-major, although who knows how that would have reshaped who I am today?)

Compared to that crisis, my feelings today are light and fluffy, and while I should not take my feelings to lightly (after all, like speed they can kill), it is a bit comforting that I got over that, it chastises my self-pity a bit, and it reminds me - life can suck sometimes, but it is still worth it. I look at that period and there's no way I can reconcile it with the idea I was secretly happy, no I was miserable, but there was still a beauty in that period of life, because I strove to live and live rightly and serve God in my life. Screw the misery, even the crises are beautiful.

And I got a little Facebook posting from that period to prove my point. As miserable and self-pitying that the posting is, I like to think it's a good piece of writing, and well worth looking back upon, or for those who have not read it, for the first time upon. Especially as the most major of the points are still valid, you can always trust God to get you through the bad times, and even when the thrill of life is gone, you still got to go on (and indeed move along):

So here's the posting which I after the fact labeled "Scream":

Oh yeah, life goes on, long after the thrill of living is gone

Little bit of Jack and Diane
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QT9tpKXFd8A

Of course the best thing that John Cougar Mellencamp has given us is this line from How I Met Your Mother (Aldrin Justice):

Barney: Tonight, just like John Mellencamp, I am going to get rid of the cougar once and for all.

If you don't get it watch the episode.

Anywho, I'd like to thank everyone who gave me birthday messages, it was a nice gesture. If it seems odd to not write this till now, well, my life has been a little bit of a crapstorm this last couple weeks. And now that I come to the end of this semester it seems everything is coming up failure, partial or completely, and even my successes seem to be interspliced with failure. And this has all left me pretty miserable.

If I had some time to relax and move away from that mindset, maybe that wouldn't matter so much, but I have more work to do, I have to clean up the mess I've been dealing with lately, I have to deal with potentially failing one or more classes, and this sucks. So life's not going to be enjoyable for a while now.

But life goes on. And one day, really one day, maybe in a month, maybe in two, someday probably not too far from now, I will be getting out of this crapstorm, or I will learn to deal with it. I have great faith that God will get me through all this, but I'm having trouble finding enjoyment in life anyways, and in worse case senario, and I need to deal with the aftermath of these failures and the reactions of my family to these matters, which will likely be as uncomfortable as the problems themselves, I might be living in a crapstorm till the end of the summer or beyond. But still life goes on, I'll have moments of happiness now and then, and someday life will get better. So life goes on.

Even if for now, the thrill of living is gone.

-- Fin --

So how thrilling is living now?
At times very much so, at times terrible. Are things getting better? Off and on, yes. Do I trust God for the future, I am trying to, and I think for the most part succeeding. And looking back, I can say all and all, things are not so bad, maybe not great, but, to paraphrase Hamlet:

In this sleep of life, what dreams may come?
And then in death too, what dreams might appear?

Anywho, take it to your head, take it to your heart and remember Rand rocks. Goodnight Folks!

And God Bless.

Exile

As I am feeling out of sorts and out of place, perpetually, this seems appropriate, is it perfect ready? Perhaps not quite, but it has come along and fits my feelings well, and I AM RAND!

Exile

It doesn't really matter
My thoughts, my feelings, my fantasies
They are divergent from reality
Never resting on solid ground
My actions are feeble
Constrained by fear and impotence
Like breath against a hurricane
The mechanics of fate overwhelm me

Perhaps I should travel in exile
To a foreign land
Where my skills are rare and my talents novel
Where my actions are exotic and my faults mysteriously
To a place where I can be king and dictate the fate of others

But that is but a thought, a feeling, a fantasy
Divergent from reality
And it doesn't matter
Not at all

-Rand McRanderson

Just a little lonely

I'm okay.
I'm just a little lonely.
He said with something approaching a smile on his face,
And something approaching bitterness in his voice.

Is it so taxing?
Are you so needy?
Is it so much to wish for?

When alone, I find company is something I can do without,
But it is hard to close your eyes after a day lived in silence,
Without admitting that while
A companion may not be something you need,
It is something you want,
Which is to say you might not always get it.

And I wonder on how to weigh this,
And I dismiss my ponderings as irrelevant,
But I must admit, that there is a part of me that is less than well,
When I am even a little lonely.

Let not the sun be proud, lest I strike it from the sky

So here's a question:
If the day was destined to be a disaster, is mere survival a triumph?

But is it not a defeat to have certain days destined for disaster?

Yet this destiny was not pre-ordained. Around mid-morning I realized that for a good chunk of the day, I was most likely to be pointlessly, hopelessly sad. For no reason, except it is my nature, well, but then again, that is a nature I decided long ago to defy, by any means necessary, including...

Well, if I did take the meds, would this day be so different? There were other reasons why my day might be awful, but comparing, and weighing in how I have been dealing with things other days and...

But really, I suppose my confidence in how I have been dealing with things otherwise likely brought me to be a little lackluster in checking to make sure I had a good supply and...

Aw, let's just play the song

And as is proper the lyrics.

I gotta love the Eraserhead callout, just reminds me how much I need to see that film.

Anyways, obviously, this is a good lesson to be more careful, and given the overall lack of urgency in the day, probably an overall good occasion in the longer sense of things.

Yet still, being reminded of your biological limitations, that's never a pleasant thing. But some are born such as to demonstrate the glory of God.

And then again, perhaps all measured I'm not overall even that cursed even from the bio perspective. It's hard to measure apples vs. oranges, and there's at least that distance between each fellow man, and so it's hard to say the measure of difficulty of natural traits, still overall I'm doing okay, so...

So it's not really so bad, just need to be careful to take my meds.

So take it to your head, take it to your heart and remember Rand rocks. Goodnight Folks!

And God Bless.

Awesomeness always returns

And so I am back. After several days of weak and sporadic sessions I have returned to give meaning to your bummy lives. All hail the returning Rand!!! And so on.

Well, it has been a nice Thanksgiving break, but now life must resume, or else, well, things aren't good then. But anyways,

Zoonga, zoonga, zoonga.

Bet you weren't expecting that! (Or if you had been paying attention to my previous sessions and had noticed my tendency to break up ponderous, incomplete, overly serious thought with odd-sounding nonsense, you might have been expecting that, and that is why the bet I mad was a gentleman's one, I know you people are probably not gentlemen but I am willing to be merciful.)

Anywho, it's strange (as I've remarked several times over and over again to various people until their heads want to explode), after that break I'm starting to feel the pressures of school and personal work, as well as future prospects and plans begin to impose themselves on me. In my pre-Thanksgiving session I commented on how vacation from school does not equal vacation from my personal work, yet honestly I pretty much did take a vacation from personal work (and I extended my vacation from school work to the extend of semi-falling behind). And so now I'm honestly finding it a bit tricky falling back into the tap of things, like getting back into the posting schedule and such (for a little while I was in a nice posting schedule where I was posting every day at a morningish time (I think (although don't quote me on this) that my views increase when I post early)), but more badishly I find some old feelings rising up (I see a bad moon rising).

I mentioned a while ago that I was done with my most recent crisis but that after a number of highly wah-wah sessions I didn't want to cap it off with even more extra super more wah-wah. But since y'all have had the intervening days of the Thanksgiving break + a little more let me chat a little 'bout it all. And by chat I mean say this:

I think a lot of my problems come from my impending, overwhelming desire to change/save/rule the world and my constant belief I'm not doing enough by that. It's aggravating, every day bad things happen. Whether you believe the world's getting better or worse (I tend to believe neither exactly, try to figure out how history's going is the easy path to madness), bad things will keep on happening, and that includes really bad things and things that are really bad personally. And every time that happens, I feel like I've failed. And then there's every moment I'm still, every moment I haven't accomplished something absolutely fantastic I feel like I've failed because I haven't made things better. That just seems insane, it just seems like an absolute and terrible monstrous mistake. It just seems like I'm fiddling while Rome burns. It just seems like I'm a part of the horror, since I'm not stopping it.

It's so easy to feel that way.

It makes me feel like even a moment spent inactive is my mark of failure. Moreover it places pressure on me to save the world with the next moment.

And yet, to feel that way, even Rand the Grand and Glorious can't do it all, and he can't always be trying even, especially since he too is a part of this messed up world.

One more thing if you think about it. If human beings deserve happiness, than don't those who want to help people have a right for happiness too.

But scrap all that, no screw all that. To tell you the truth, no matter how much I do it's still not going to be enough to stop bad stuff from happening, moreover the further into the future the effects of my accomplishments go the less control I'll have over them. So scrap that too.

How to deal with it all then? I appreciate the beauty of life, the universe, and people, wonderful old people. Life is beautiful, and if things go wrong, it might become less pretty, but even less pretty it is infinitely beautiful. So while life might not be as good as you want, it still is so damn beautiful.

And in the end, God will take care.

And yes, there will be horror.

But God will make the best of this world.

And it will still be so damn, incredibly beautiful.

So that's about that.

And those pressures seem a little bit lighter.

So take it to your head, take it to your heart, and remember Rand rocks. Goodnight Folks!

Today is the first day of the rest of your life

Hello folks and stuff (it would be cool if some stuff were reading this webpost, but alas, my audience is mostly made up of folks).

Yesterday I was planning a big statement on the desperate situation I was in and how I was just barely pulling things off by the skin of my ass, but it was All Saint's Day and so I decided to write about that.

As to my situation, I've been having trouble getting my work done, I don't know why, but it's like this. I had on my computer for two-three days all the necessary components to make a project over a week overdue work and I resisted putting it all together. Instead I fiddled with things, tried to make things cleaner, and then I tried to make things more complex. By the end I had about 2 and 1/2 versions of the program that should have worked. Eventually I settled down my brain enough to take the simplest version, sand off the rough edges and send it off.

But why?

I can't say I'm sure. But there has to be a why.

Every action needs a reason and every inaction needs a reason, it's impossible to really and truly be still. That's the problem with nihilism, the enthusiasm for the purposelessness of life is never strong enough to stop the instinct to act or to purposefully be inactive. To commit suicide would take a heck of a reason (usually self-hatred), but to live requires acting, or at the very least responding to the actions that surround us. And whatever our response is that has a reason.

But why did I just screw myself over by leaving my project undone for a week? I don't know, maybe it was biology, maybe nurture, the point is it was something that I had to away from.

Curiosity drives me to investigate my mental state, but also a desire to prevent problems from happening again. But still, worrying too much about my mental problems breed more problems which distracts me from bigger concerns...

What are the bigger concerns? Life, Truth, Love, etc. If I went by my feelings, and especially my feelings last week I would say nothing, nothing mattered, and eventually as the pains in my depression grew I would simply conclude that avoidance of pain mattered only and then flip, I'll be dead. But instead I take what feels to be the core and most beautiful principle of my beliefs, and then use reason and experience to go from there. And that's how I got to here, a follower of God Most High.

But that has nothing to do with the title of this session. I've been rambling, but not unpleasantly, and yet I still feel compelled to stop. So's your face! It always works.

Anyways, so take it to your head, take it to your heart, and remember Rand rocks. Goodnight Folks!

Who can be the brick but I?

This song somehow feels like it resonates for me. I feel like I'm sinking slowly. But there's no brick tied to me, there's no reason I should feel this way. I think about what I need to do to get through the day, none of it seems difficult except in actually getting myself to try and I'm not sure why. I can quote the lines from the song (Brick by Ben Folds Five) but it has no reference to me, no real reference. Except I'm feeling alone, but there's no brick unless it's me.

Creep

I'd like to think I'm not really a creep. But I do creepy stuff sometimes. Nothing I care to go into though. But part of writing is revisiting painful incidents far more often than is at all sane. Earlier this semester I had a writing assignment that while beginning humorous ended in a scene of painful lost love. That scene touched my heart a little and reminded me of all my lost loves. And then I had to revisit it. Again the painfully emotional scene hitting me. Then again, revisiting it. More painful emotional scene hitting. And then more revisiting, etc. Not very nice stuff. But that's what I writer's got to be doing. So yeah, creep.

I have a vague recollection of when that song came out, I think it was my early high school years, although apparently it was done in 1992 or 93, so that would have to be a good deal back before my school years, maybe around middle school or even tail end of elementary school. But I guess it was in high school my musicality was at its peak (or at least at its peak for that period, I'm having a new Renaissance of musicality right now) and so that was when I heard that Radiohead song, Creep. It struck a cord.

Apparently, the songwriter was talking about gender-identity issues with the song, least that's what he said. I took the song as sort of an outsider unrequited love song (part of the reason for my differing interpretation is probably because the radio edit changed a line from "You're so fucking special" to "You're so very special" but I get into some of that below). And so it felt very natural to me, who felt perpetually the outsider, and who in his early high school years had some unrequited love. I've talked about one case of this before, in my Here is Gone session, but as I noted there, that was about my second heartbreak, but this song resounds more accurately and more tightly with my first heartbreak, and so it is in the light of that I'm going to do some explicating (explication nation, what's your temptation).

Creep by Radiohead from the album Pablo Honey

When you were here before

She didn't just appear, she had been my friend for a long time, since elementary school. We used to walk home together, maybe around 3rd or 2nd grade. During 4th grade and 5th to some degree there was a separation of boys and girls and so to a degree we lost touch. But we still went to the same schools and greeted each other with friendship. In eighth grade I actually thought she would be the ideal person to have a crush on, and to a degree I suppose I harvested those emotions. But by the end of summer I had largely forgot of the matter. Until of course, school resumed and I saw her again. But those feelings had a different flavor to them, an intensity that I wasn't used to, which I embraced as love.

Couldn't look you in the eye

But while I embraced the feelings, I couldn't stand staying in her presence. I hated myself, I hated myself viciously, and being near her seemed just another opportunity for me to fail at my efforts of contact. Worse yet, it was an opportunity for her to see the person I thought I was, an utter monster. A creep if you will. (and I will, for I am RAND.)

You're just like an angel

I idealized her utterly and completely. It was from a distance of course so I couldn't assign to her definite idealized characteristics, so instead I assigned to her all idealized traits. I imagined her like an angel. A creature of utter purity. The only real traits I can assign to her is that she's kind and strongly social competent (she has a social comfortableness that is enviable, at least by one such as me), but it's hard for me to really fix her character beyond that because of all my idealization. So I thought of her like an angel. It's such a hollow description really, especially without any theology behind it, but I never had enough courage to make my emotions anything more than hollow.

Your skin makes me cry

Always with skin. It tends to be regarded as so important. As for the obvious matter. Yes, she was white, and yes I'm brown, but that really had no importance for anything, although I was paranoid about it. But in a more teenage sense skin mattered otherwise. I always hated my skin's oils and pimples. I can't say I'm too fond of them now, but I can tolerate my skin since I don't have much acne anymore. But back then, it was quite a bit. It added to my whole, I hate myself, and especially my body thing, and so it didn't help that she was beautiful. I can't even remember if truthfully she had no acne, but she certainly had less than me, what is true is her skin seemed perfect to me. She seemed beautiful and I felt unforgivably ugly.

You float like a feather
In a beautiful world

She hung out with a more popular crowd, I on the other hand. I didn't really have a crowd. I suppose this is the point I should say I was fat (or thought myself as such), given the feather analogy, etc. But everything about her, the people she hung out with, the way she looked, the way she carried itself. It seemed so immensely better than everything that was me.

And I wish I was special

Back then I felt anonymous, insignificant, and pointless. I can't say I don't have those emotions now sometimes.

Youre so (very) fuckin special

She seemed on the other hand to be at the center of her own little world, and it was a damn nice world. The original version of this song I listened to (that is not to say the original version of the song itself, but the radio edit), used very instead of fuckin'. It does take the edge off this verse. I can't say I was angry at her for these emotions, but I was angry at myself for not acting on them, and I was angry at the universe for making me me.



But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo.

I've never been quite normal in any social circle, and that sense of isolation, so heightened during high school and complemented with anxiety and self-hate. I felt I was a creep. I can't say I really was one. Probably the actually creepiest thing I did was, well, I didn't follow her, but I would remember where I saw her at certain times of the day. We all have our little habits after all. And I'd just try to be near her at that time of the day. I wouldn't want her to see me, because then she might think I was stalking her, or worse yet might engage me in conversation, but rather I just wanted to get a glimpse of her. My emotions would fill me then, and I'd get an invigorated euphoria that would fade the moment she left my sight and I remembered how lonely I felt.

What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here.

Yeah, I can say I didn't belong. I didn't have a clique or anything in that sense. But really when it comes down to belonging on this earth, what is the criteria. If you're a human being, that gives you a certain necessity of spending some time on earth doesn't it. If you're born, doesn't that give you the right to belong to the living? And if you have a soul doesn't that give you a right to belong to God's children.



I don't care if it hurts

This line always reminds me of pimple popping, especially in combination with the perfect skin line. It was a nasty habit of mine, especially since I knew excessive pimple popping actually aggravated the acne. But I wanted so badly to feel pain. It fed the hatred so completely and satisfied it as well. A nice little vicious cycle. (just like a demon bike)

I want to have control

I've always had problems of control. Controlling my eating, my laziness, most of all my mental illness. Life always seemed to come so easily for everyone else, for her. However, that is one of those nice little lies we tell ourselves to makes us feel nicely persecuted. Everyone has problems, it's best not to try to rank them.

I want a perfect body
I want a perfect soul

As much as I hated my body when depressed, I hated my soul even more. Because when I was in the depths of depression I believed I was an absolute monster barely contained. It was a good way to justify my self-hatred even though I believed people should be judged on their internal goodness and not their external appearances.

I want you to notice
When I'm not around

That was always something for me. I wanted to feel like I made a difference in the world and that without me people would be worse off. I suppose it is true, but on the other hand. On the other hand during my periodic absences from social life during breakdowns, nobody seemed really to care. But on the plus side, they did seem to enjoy my company. Still, it would be nice, if people noticed when I wasn't around, especially her. (Of course, you people, my loyal readers would notice when I'm not around, eh? Ah, bums! Meh, in the end it doesn't matter if people care when you're not around, God notices when you withdraw into yourself, when you breakdown, and He offers to carry you through the pain, as I have found out time and time again)

You're so (very) fuckin' special
I wish I was special

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo.
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here.

She's running out again,
She's running out
She's run run run running out...

Let me tell you the story of how I confessed to her. My buddy Howard says it shows me as brave. I'd disagree. Anyways, in my high school and even middle school we had various services which would deliver cards and presents to those whom you had crushes on or just wanted to give a present to. I actually did give her cards for years since eighth grade up to sophmore year. However I always kept it as from a secret admirer. Until that final card. Sophmore year I decided to sign it as myself. And so she found out about my feelings. And then... I passionately avoided her for the rest of the year and the summer. Yeah, I really don't think the story depicts me as brave. But then junior year came around. The beginning of every year I always tend to be somewhat manic. So I had a great idea, why not invite everyone in the school to a party? It didn't work out so well, well, no it was fun, even if only 4 people came. But I had invited her, and then, then I was rejected.

Whatever makes you happy
Whatever you want

To make a girl I like happy, that's just awesome. To see her smile. I've always had trouble reading facial expressions, but I know a smile is a smile. And so I give gifts, I tell jokes, I do anything to make them smile. But unfortunately I rarely listen to them, I usually am so self-absorbed, and so obsessed with the emotion of love, I forget to some degree about the actual girl. Perhaps really then, it wasn't love with this girl, just being in love with the feeling of love. With later girls I liked I've tried to listen more, and I consider my feelings more legitimate, but perhaps it's just the pains in that period leave me as somewhat cynical about that period in my life

Youre so fuckin special
I wish I was special...

But Im a creep, Im a weirdo,
What the hell am I doing here?
I dont belong here.
I dont belong here.


And then after confessing to her and being rejected, after the party that didn't work out as I had planned, and after failing to really resolve a conflict between two people I cared about, my depression grew to a point where it became to much. I've always wanted control, especially for those moments like this when depression is this overwhelming. But I didn't have self-control. And so, well, let me not relate the exact details, but I resolved to kill myself. But in the end, I didn't even have the self-control for that. I was too afraid of pain, and so I resolved that I would try to overdose on my medicine. But then my father came home and stopped me. And then I was hospitalized.

That experience casts a taint over this period, and over my relations with that girl. When she rejected me she said it was because she didn't want to ruin our friendship. She also made several other efforts to reach out to me as a friend. I sort of ignored them. It was hard to think of her without thinking of that period in my life when I became obsessed with my emotions of love for her, and ultimately ended up hospitalized. It's a shame though. Friendships are something highly valuable, and not to be discarded. So maybe someday, when I become a little bit more mature I renew my friendship with that girl. Is that day today? Maybe, one never knows what the future might bring.

So anyways, that's the story of my first heartbreak. There's some lessons in there if you want to take them, I don't feel like spelling them out explicitly. I always wonder what could have been though, but that's usually a useless conjecture, not worthy of Rand the mighty and glorious.

So anyways, take it to your head, take it to your heart and remember Rand rocks. Goodnight Folks!

I can't stand change or chest waxing

Well, but while I do want change despite its anxiety inducing components, I am not interested in chest waxing. I like my chest hair, it keeps me warm. But then again, if the right lady asked really nicely... But until then I think I'm going to keep my chest hair.

But with change, well, once again, I find I've got to change some problems in my life. Like of course, the fact I had another minor breakdown. Let me emphasize the fact that this matter was minor, it was simply one day. However, it did lead to me missing a day of classes, including several critical classes. So there will be an aftermath. But things can change, and will change for I AM RAND!

But it will not be easy. After all, I have a lot of crazy chemical stuff fiddling around in my head. Plus, etc., etc., etc.

Enough about that

Lets Dance!

Doo doo doo dee doo dee doo bop
Doo dee dee doo dee doo bop
Bop Bop Bop dee doo dee doo doo bop

(Not really dancing, actually sitting down, but dancing in spirit, dancing in spirit).

So anyways, take it to your head, take it to your heart and remember Rand rocks. Goodnight Folks!

Come on, Let's Dance! Come on, Let's Dance! Baby!

I'd rather not start on a bad note because even if I am feeling rather crappy today, and let me be clear that I am feeling rather crappy today, it's better not to wallow in it, but rather to defy it, which makes me wonder why I decided to make clear that I was feeling crappy today, oh t'well.

Anyhow, on that note, let me relate this, I was originally going to title this session is Fucking A' (note that I'm using Fucking as an adjective, not as a verb, or as a gerund (as in an A' that is doing some fuking), and while A' here does refer to ass, it is ass in a figurative sense, and not to an a person in particular but to a general situation). This refers to my general frustration with life at the moment. But then, something must be considered. Is my frustration something that simply can be ignored or does it have a cause that must be dealt with.

Classically in TV and literature for that matter, if someone felt often a frustration and uneasiness with life they'd conclude that something was missing in their life. But I can't say that's the case for me, at least necessarily. Dissatisfaction is a natural part of depression and it craves ultimately self-destruction. And that's something I can't give it. And if these impulses exist within me, and I refuse them, well, then there will always be that restlessness within me. And I will have to live with it. And sometimes, when events or circumstances trigger it, or perhaps simply when my cycle of highs and lows hits a low, the feelings will intensify. Medication might help these problems, therapy might help, but barring a miracle (always a possibility), I find it unlikely that these feelings will go away. Thus if I conclude something is missing every time I feel dissatisfied, I will be endlessly searching for that something, and while I am searching, all my life will pass me by, and it will be a pass by full of dissatisfaction from unfulfilled searching for that matter.

I suppose this isn't necessarily something confined to the depressed or mentally ill. Dennis Leary once said something along the lines that happiness isn't a default state, it's just small moments. And I have heard similar sentiments expressed in songs. And yet, I have met people who seem naturally happy. I suppose it's just a degree of natural dissatisfaction, whether its a matter of biology (perhaps a stand-alone issue or related to other matters as in my case) or a matter of experience, is within the normal variation of people even without disorders. As is natural happiness. Some of us have an easier load, and some have a harder one, I try not to rank mine too precisely, but I'd say it's harder than most, at least most in this country, but easier than many.

On the other hand, even if it is painful and frustrating, a natural dissatisfaction does have its advantages. It prevents becoming complacent and lazy, it forces people forward, even if it sometimes leaves them forever running forward without a reason without a stop. I don't mind moving forward, but I'd like a reason, and I'd like a stop sometimes. So things must be managed.

Of course, it could be the dissatisfaction is perfectly legitimate and has roots in a real emotional issue that I have been avoiding. It's hard to tell. With false signals running through the head, it's hard to grip on the true warnings. But I am awesome and I am Rand so it's all good in the 'hood.

So anyways, take it to your head, take it to your heart, and remember Rand rocks. Goodnight Folks!

The blues of the younger years

I read an article in the Star-Ledger today about some controversy over early diagnosis of bipolar disorder. It was not a great article, lacking the depth I would have liked but it was decently interesting. It brought up a case of this little girl who was killed by an overdose of bipolar medication, and raised the question of whether the psychiatrist who first brought up the idea of little kids having bipolar disorder was morally responsible for this. On the face of it, I would have to say no, since the parents gave their little girl an overdose, ignoring the recommended guidelines. If the psychiatrist made vague statements that could have been interpreted as encouraging above-recommended medication, maybe he's responsible, otherwise, no. But the broader question is whether bipolar disorder starts with adults or with kids. I'm not sure if my problems are exactly bipolar disorder, they do involve deep depressive phases and some manic phases, although the depressive phases tend to be longer. But if my mental illness is bipolar disorder, then I could say in my case at least, my problems started early. Well, maybe. It's hard to say exactly, I definitely know I can trace back my anxiety problems to when I was very young, with my depressive and manic phases, I probably can say they also go back to when I was young, although in both cases, the problems only got really, really bad when I hit puberty. But even before then I had problems with social interaction, not necessarily obvious problems, but I found it extremely nerve racking to call people over the phone, so I ended up with much fewer outside school play-dates than other kids my age. With depression, it's hard to remember exactly because it's harder to remember mood, especially given the tendancy to romanticize youth. But I think overall, yeah there were depressive periods, and probably some manic periods back then. Did these problems go back to younger than 6 as the pyschiatrist in the article speculates? That I really, really, really don't know, because remembering all my feelings that long ago is very difficult and very speculative. But my problems didn't just start with puberty, they just got worse then. However, I should qualify myself by pointing out that my case is just one story and should not be regarded as the case for all people with bipolar disorders, and my problems might not even be bipolar. But at least I can say mental problems sometimes start early in a kid's life.

The Downward Spiral

I'm not doing well. I'm doing pretty shittily in fact. I'm having trouble making myself do actions like going outside, going to class, brushing my teeth, etc. I'm generally not in a good state of mind right now. Like I always say, I'm not the worse off, but I'm not in a good place. And things seem to be getting worse, or at best staying still. Ultimately though, I have no idea what to do. I have faith, I believe God will see me through all this somehow, but I have no idea how. I'm really tired of this mental disease crap, I really am and I'm just really tired of all this. But whatever. My mind is foggy and unclear, and I forgot to take my medication today, but heck I was really screwed up yesterday and so I don't know how much of a factor that is. I know this breakdown now will slowly build up my problems until I can finally break or I am broken out of it, and then I'll have to deal with all those built-up problems, and then what, I'm not sure. I'm really tired of trying to articulate my feelings, trying to write things, produce things, I dunno, but writing is perhaps the only thing I can do write now that gives me at least some satisfaction in life so I should probably keep that up. I really believe I can't give up on my life because that's just wrong, really it is, when it comes down to it I know that I am at my core a good person, heck, in fact every person has enough good in them that killing them is wrong. I really wish I was more articulate with this, but I really can't be bothered with that right now. Anyhow, I hope this sees all my readers well. Don't worry too much about me, I've gotten through worse scraps, and I've got God on my side who can stand against me, what disease can triumph, if I have God on my side?

Well, that's about that and take it to your head, take it to your heart, and remember Rand rocks. Goodnight Folks!

SNAFU-Situation Normal, All Fucked Up

Supposedly that's what snafu meant back when it originated in the army. Nice little abbreviation. That might just summarize how I'm feeling right now, not just fucked up, but so fucked up that it feels like that is the normal situation. That is of course an exaggeration, but when I'm feeling down the lines between exaggeration and reality become blurred. Right now is pretty horrible though.

I'm at a low point, probably at the start of a breakdown, though at this point I'm not sure whether it's major or minor. I'm not going outside much, in fact just once today, and that was simply to get food. Food is actually an interesting subject in my mind right now, for most of the day I had myself convinced not to eat, finally I got myself going to the dining hall, but I also then convinced myself to gorge on tons of unhealthy food. Overall though, even if that gorging is bad for my health in the long term, it is in the end better than not eating, especially when I'm in such a low point mood-wise. Not eating while depressed is tempting but a bad idea since it will deprive you of the energy needed to fight off the depressive impulses. And I really do need that energy now. I really need to snap out of this mood. I skipped 3 classes today, including two with homework, I'm not sure if I will attend class tommorow, I haven't showered, I haven't brushed my teeth, I skipped my club meetings, I am like I said several times before in bad shape.

But I hold to this truth, you cannot give up when faced with depression. I'm a man who believes in right and wrong, and giving up to depression is wrong, and I will not do that. Especially since giving up to depression can lead to suicide and perhaps even the slow decay of the soul. It's just not right. Perhaps it's just my Christian faith, perhaps it's just my love of humanity, but I am determined not to die because of my mental disease.

I'm not quite at that point yet, but I'm somewhat bordering it. Like I said, I'm near a breakdown, and I've had an increase in stray thoughts of self-harm and suicide, I haven't sunk into a spiral of self-hatred yet, but I'm worried about my condition and yet am consumed by feelings of helplessness and fear. Things are not good, but hey, they haven't been good before, and I've pulled myself out. I am after all the mighty and glorious Rand, so don't worry about me. I'm stronger than my disease, and this too will pass. So put on a happy face. Anyways that's about all for now. Take it your head, take it to your heart, and remember Rand rocks. Goodnight folks!

I get by with a little help from my friends

I suppose I do. Maybe. I tend to exaggerate my loneliness. Boo hoo, nobody invites me to their parties, etc. But I do have a good deal of loneliness. Just now something brought it up, so I'm not sure I'm in a good position to write about it objectively, but hey, the rants that compose these sessions were never promised as objective (well, some of them might be). But this does not bear a promise of objectivity (and any promise of objectivity that may come up is void in Tennesse (Simpson joke, watch the old episodes, watch them!!!)). Anyways, the event (and I want to be careful not to mention names or any personal details tht might hint at the identity of the people involved, because honestly, that seems kind of jerkish to me) was that I noticed that a friend of mine went on a trip without telling me. I thought we were decently close and so I would be told about it. But really, thinking upon it closer I realize we aren't that close, and that makes me sad. Maybe she did actually tell me and I didn't remember, which again would imply we weren't that close.

This is a lot to make of a little issue really, but the point is that it demonstrates something bigger. Not too big though, but bigger, maybe like medium big, like a 1/2 pound burger. Or maybe a little bit bigger than that, maybe it's in full pound burger range. It comes down to the fact that I have few strong social relations. I have a couple close friends with whom I have maintained contact with over the years, only two or three really, but even with them, it's more of IM chatting than weekly or even necessarily monthly meetings. That bothers me. I mean, I have a wider range of pretty good friends and aquaintences with whom I'm on good terms, but overall my social contact isn't that great. And I have no girlfriend and honestly, I haven't ever been on a real date, so on that front I have loneliness going on as well. It sucks to be lonely.

But what perhaps worries me more is the fact that it doesn't suck that much. In high school I had constant contact with my friens, even if it was only in the hallways and classes, but in college that isn't necessarily so (although I have a good roommate and at least have social contact with him). What I've been finding (and what I've found in the summers when I didn't have such contact), is that while I want to be social, and I want to have friends that I meet with regularly, I don't really need that. I can exist just doing work, reading, writing hopefully as well (although there have been long stretches with little of that), watching tv, etc. Without writing, going to the library, watching good movies and tv, etc. I might be disatisfied with my life, but if say I did all that and maybe submitted some stuff to publication, I'll be pretty happy, even if I am completely isolated, and that scares the hell out of me.

Because I want to around people, I love people abstractly, but I also love being around people, talking to people, helping people, etc. I'm not sure I've really conveyed that in this blog but now you know (though perhaps now you know too much, prepare to die, bwah, ha, ha, ha). But I don't need people, and honestly, I think just social contact isn't enough to satisfy my life alone, at least in the long term.

I am overemphasizing my isolation probably. I have my family, I have a few great friends, and many people I'm good with talking too. I'm asocial, but not anti-social. Still, asociality bothers me, but actually not that much. It makes me sad, and when depressed, it makes me very sad, but I can be ok with it. I am feeling empty, emotionless, motivationless now, and part of that is probably that my social contacts can't generate enough motivation to give me satisfaction in life. I suppose the social contact of a girlfriend or if I had a dependent might be enough but other than that, I'm going to need something else. I love people, but they aren't enough for me. Well, no that isn't true, my goals in life give me satisfaction because they help people, as well as for other reasons, but just social contact with people isn't enough. And that bothers me, but not that much. Well, it perhaps bothers me now more than other times, because looking at my life I can find little else of meaning than my few, but strong, social relationships.

But I guess that's just something I need to deal with. We all have our problems, and this is mine, not too huge, but not insignificant, that's life for you, well not for you, that's life for me. That's enough for this session.

So take it to your head, take it to your heart, and remember Rand rocks. Goodnight Folks!

Anatomy of Emptiness

Well readers, one and all, well actually more like one so far today, you are in for a treat. You get to witness my examinations of a severe emotional episode. All the horror, all the glory and you will have a front row seat. It should be fun (for you at least, not so much for me). It should be, but things aren't always as they should be. Heck, I should not be having this episode, but hey shit happens.

I think I might be misleading by calling this an emotional episode. I do have such episodes occassionally as I plunge myself or am plunged (depends on circumstances and perspective) into deep depression or dangerous esctasy. But this is not such an episode. It is an episode of mental bad health, but it is not emotional so much as anti-emotional. I feel empty, devoid of feeling and motivation, and that is not good.

My emotions have caused me a lot of trouble in my life. Love, fear, self-hatred, anger, etc. have led me to make bad decisions. But ultimately, I don't want to lose my emotions, they propel me to do stuff and such, I just want to control them more. And I certainly don't want to be motivationless. But I am and it sucks.

In hindsight, this is somewhat inevitable. I was feeling this way during Christmas break, after the desperate but invigorating energy of fighting to correct the mistakes of my last depressive episode and finishing finals wore off. I found myself listless, unable to make decisions, uncaring about my life, lost without any purpose and at my core not caring about it. The thinking parts of my brain still knew I had to do stuff, that I wanted to do stuff, but my emotions and my motivational centers didn't. So I did very little, but deep inside I knew I had to defy this situation. So my mind tried various tricks to summon emotion and motivation. Finally, I launched myself on a great bike ride, pushing myself to the breaking limit, and finally emerging emotional, strongly determined, and alive again. And at that point I started to look at my life, and I wasn't happy with what I saw. The directionlessness remained even though my motivation to correct it now returned. I was unsure how though. Unfortunately, as my emotions returned so did my negative ones. They had never gone away but they were dulled during my period of feeling empty and motivationlessness. Now they returned, not in full force, but enough that indecision siezed me, and my confusion over what to do with my life intensified. Ultimately, I decided as I was deciding to keep an option open, one that I was questioning now but one that was still viable, I decided to continue pursuing my application for the graduate school of education. This gave me a momentary direction as I fought to overcome my anxieties and fears to accomplish this. Slowly I became filled with a determination to finish this, to finish this because it was finishing something, a deed that was all too rare in my life. So I did it, I overcame my fears and finished everything up and now today, nearly everything is complete. I just need to dot the i's, although an emergency might emerge which I would have to deal with. So now what, I ask myself and I am unsure.

Now the emptiness has returned as once again I have finished a struggle. The feelings aren't as bad but still are very bad. I maybe should go on another one of those tiring, straining bike rides. I think it worked last time because it appealed to my desire for power, one of the few emotions that remained fully intact. It also appeals to a variety of dulled emotions, bringing them to the forefront, like my desire to improve my body, my love for biking and my desire to be happy, my desire to hurt myself because the biking is so straining, and my desire to accomplish things. Probably other emotions were involved as well.

But it's hard to muster up the emotions to do that. I don't have much of a motivational drive, even one to recover the emotional drive although I know I must do that. Last time I motivated myself to do that by watching Space Cowboys (a great movie, although the whole Russians have a missle thing in space subplot felt kind of tacked on, the charm was just old guys recovering lost glory). And I'm not sure it will work. Tricks and deeper solutions to emotional problems rarely work multiple times for me. The parts of my mind that work against me always find a way around these things.

I also am looking for a more permenant solution. I think I must ultimately reorient my life. I have planned to move away a little from orienting my life around academics which was my previous way of living (especially last semester when I was taking three ackwardly scheduled classes). I have made certain moves in this direction by creating a hugely open schedule. But I am still uncertain as to what I need to do and how exactly I need to reorient my life. Also fear, indecision and other emotions, though dulled remain strong enough to bother me. Add to this the who motivationlessness and you have a rather bad situation moving no where fast.

One thing I kept remembering during my winter break was the words of Thanos in the Infinity War (my brother got me the book for Christmas and I loved it). To paraphrase it: "To survive certain ressurections must take place." Certain parts of my life which once gave me an overwhelming sense of drive and purpose must be brought back and pushed to the front of my personality. New motivations must also be discovered. My biology, my emotions are arrayed against me, but I must overcome these things, otherwise...

Suicide is a possibility. My depression remains, though dull and the annoyance of a directionless, motivationless life and the desire for a sense of power (killing my self does make me feel powerful) might overcome the saner parts of my mind. But my depression is dulled, and my impulse is to go along with the flow, doing absolutely nothing, responding to events, such as the problems generated by this attitude, but then sinking back into the emptiness. That is a very scary possibility. I once swore to myself that even depression was better than being devoid of passion, and I renew that idea now. I must renew myself, there is no other option.

My spiritual emotions also feel dulled, but my mind still has a determination to reach out to God, and I still have a strong faith and love for God deep in my soul, maybe that will help. Or maybe I will be unable to capitalize on that.

A possibility of failure is very real, and it worries me. That is perhaps the reason for the melodramatics. I don't like blowing up these emotions to epic proportions. Ok, I actually love it, it's like crack to me. But like crack it is ultimately self-destructive. But maybe this sort of elevation of emotions can help me ressurect some of them and maybe alright in the short term, although I cannot stay in my head dwelling on my emotions forever. This would in fact prevent me from doing the actions that ultimately I want to do, that these ressurections are supposed to drive me to do.

Hope, love and faith. These are enough, but do I have enough of these. We will find out, the hard way. Stay tooned for the next exciting adventure of Rand and the Insanity Birgade: The Mouth of the Void.

That's enough melodramatics. Even when dramatics are warrented they must be limited. Especially if I am to apply my logical parts to figure out solutions to my problems.

One solution I think is a good woman to devote a part of myself too. I have always believed in the healing power of women (I'm going to save more on my opinions on women for a future session), but I have learned that you can't depend on getting a girlfriend. It would be nice, but other measures must be considered. More clubs would be a good idea, but I have heard very little on that front since it is the beginning of the year. I also am in flux on whether to remain a Libertarian, although currently I am sticking with it, especially since the club has always been a valuable social outlet for me. More writing and more writing-related activities is also a good idea, although it often requires emotion and motivation which I am in short supply of. I did write a few pretty good poems today, so maybe I still can summon it up when I need it. Psycologist visits and talking to my psychiatrist might also help, but ultimately it is up to me. All of these are possible helps, but not definite, and while my mind is still considering other options, it all requires motivation. Maybe a bike ride will help, but I don't know. That is the greatest truth of this emptiness, I don't know.

Again enough melodramatics. In fact, I better stop this session before I get into how my mental problems reflect the battles between good and evil (maybe I'll visit that in another session when I'm feeling in more control of the melodramatics). But I'll try to revisit this whole emptiness thing in a couple more sesssions, maybe another one today or something. So take it to your head, take it to your heart, and remember that Rand rocks. (I think I'll add a little more to my ending, I dunno if I'll keep it long term but I like saying it) Goodnight Folks!