But Where's Your Heart? in 2017

Things have not been awesome lately. I have admittedly been spiraling pretty bad when it comes to depression and anxiety. A lot more than I’d like to admit. I just can’t fucking sleep when I try to. So I end up not sleeping until 4 or 5 am. My mind won’t shut off. And then I can’t get myself out of bed, so I end up sleeping in a lot and feeling terrible.

A lot of it is Courtney. I haven’t really seen her since that last date and we have barely talked. Silence creates doubt in my world, unfortunately. We’d talked about going to an 80s Halloween night at the Crystal Ballroom tomorrow, a bigger/better version of the 80s night we went to a couple months ago, as well as an Erotic Ball on Saturday. Then I don’t hear anything, and I see her post on Facebook asking if anyone knows anything fun going on this weekend. I asked her Monday if she was interested. She said she was going to a party Friday but might still be down. I asked again yesterday to see if I should buy tickets, and she said she would text me after work. She never did. Silence tells just as much as an excuse does.

I am in love with her, and I know it’s not going to happen. It’s not going to work out. Just like every time before, with every other less awesome person I’ve encountered. And honestly, it’s not fair to her, the pressure I’ve put on this working in my mind. I’ve made it the lynchpin of needing to make changes or not. Telling myself if she doesn’t want me after so many signs and so much buildup, that’s it the last sign that this just isn’t working. This as in me, my efforts, my outlook, my beliefs, all of it. After hundreds of failures over many years in multiple places involving so many people. I always end up in the same position, feeling powerless concerning the outcome of any situation. Jobs, relationships, friends, whatever blown opportunity it is. At some point, a line has to be drawn. And so I’m waiting. Almost looking for disaster to give myself proof that I’m a failure, so that I have a reason to fade away into the shadows.

I deactivated my Facebook the other day. Only a friend who I talk to on messenger several times a week noticed, since the messages weren’t going through. It’s understandable. I never post. My profile picture is two years old. I only like things and wish people happy birthday. I don’t have anything to say. Honestly, it depresses me scrolling through the feed. I see people I used to be close to, like Anna from my last job, living their lives and going out and doing shit. Making it so obvious that the halfhearted responses to text attempts long since discontinued were just that. People leaving me behind. I find almost no genuine thoughts, because there are no original thoughts. It’s almost all spam. An endless cavalcade of videos being shared and business pages being liked for whatever reason. I can’t relate to anyone. I have nothing to show for myself. So why bother? I’ll bring it back in a few months. Maybe I’ll have something to offer then.

I didn’t work for almost two weeks because of that damned registration. It was pretty slow for a week or two afterward as well. The old thoughts of “what am I doing here?” popped up many a time, as they did last year when I was really depressed. I don’t ever miss the job I left to do this full time, but I wonder where I’m going with this. It as it exists currently is all it will ever be. Eventually I’ll have to move on. The completely flexible schedule makes it easy for me to pursue dating, wrestling, music…none of which I am pursuing, at least not successfully.

I seem to have plateaued at losing weight. I’m stuck around 200 lbs. I visited Medford last weekend, and missed a day of going to the gym, snapping my streak at forty something. It’s already back up to four. I need to become in better shape. Let’s face it, being attractive is a social currency. I would have more success with dating if I were more attractive. It’s shallow, yet true. Also, I want to get in better shape, for myself. I know that I’m capable.

It’s been difficult. When I was a kid, I would occasionally feel like I was being suffocated if something touched my neck. It’d make me gag and want to throw up. It was very sporadic. Never was abused or anything, so I dunno what the deal is. When shit hit the fan with Mayumi a couple years ago, somehow me being emotionally devastated made it come back with a vengeance. Working out was tough. Sometimes if anything touched my neck, I’d feel like throwing up. There were times when I was taking the plasma boxes out of the freezers for shipment that I’d come very close to ralphing. I had a heavy coat on over my lab coat, and big ass gloves on so it was difficult to pull the coat away from my neck.

Eventually, it went away. Recently it’s come back, I guess because I’m going fucking crazy. I don’t know what the hell to do about it. I searched for information on it a couple years ago. Everything mentioned it happening to children, but nothing about adults. It really is holding me back from getting great workouts in. I don’t feel nauseous or lightheaded or have an upset stomach or anything. I just feel like I’m going to gag and start coughing, and have to slow down or stop and pull my shirt collar away from my neck. So fucking weird.

I went to see Alt-J with Ella a couple weeks ago. I wasn’t overly familiar with them but it was a great show. Bishop Briggs opened, never heard of them. They were good. I’m also going to see Max Frost with Ella tomorrow. These two shows and the Dan Kroll show last month are all because someone cancelled on her, which is super shitty. With Alt-J, her friend’s dad died, so that is understandable. This time it’s a dude she kinda had feels with for a bit that lives several hours away that flaked. I feel bad for her. I’m used to people lying to me and abandoning me, so I really hate it when it happens to someone else.

That’s how things are these days. I’ve scrutinized over it, tried to apply logic, and it’s useless. People just don’t give a fuck, whether conscious or subconscious. There’s no visible pain when sending a text with an excuse, if one is sent at all. There’s no contacting the person, no having to call them and dealing with the tone of disappointment that settles in. Just set it and forget it. I hate it. I hate it so much. It’s normal, however. This is how it is. Someday, I’ll stop caring. Maybe I’ll give in and do it too. There’s no glory in honoring your commitments to friends, lovers, whoever. The personal satisfaction that exists in lieu of that just doesn’t do it for me anymore. Someday, I will become what I hate. I’ve almost accepted it. Anything to not feel this way.

My heart burns for Courtney, but I have decided to just go on as normal until that resolves. Which is generally the same as always, i.e. nothing. I have been talking to one girl online the last couple days though. She actually lives a few blocks away apparently, which is convenient. The post was for a “consistent uncommitted” sort of deal, which seems ideal. We’ve been pretty candid talking about things so far. She seems legit so far, but I can’t trust anyone anymore, with a handful of exceptions. I stay as prepared as can be when someone ghosts. Assuming things continue, we’ll meet up Monday most likely. She has a kid, so she’s only available on days when her kid’s dad has custody. If nothing else, she seems like a very dedicated parent, which I respect. Having a confidant who I can also have sexy times with seems nice enough. Love is always out of reach, so I’ll settle for not being alone 100% of the time with someone who seems to have depth.

Things have come full circle in a way. Way back when, I was only really honest in my online diaries and talking with the associated friends. That’s how it is now as well. I just…can’t bring myself to let on how completely miserable I am to my friends. That’s just not our vibe in Portland. They’re helpful, but I can’t relate to them. They’re all married and have their shit together, madly in love. Courtney is becoming a ghost, and telling someone that is becoming distant that you love them and are struggling seems like a great way to further that distance. I don’t want any pity either. If someone truly doesn’t want to spend time with me, the sooner it ends the less it will hurt. Medford just feels too far away at this point. It’s best kept as an escape, even if that feeling is slowly diminishing.

There’s always been that part of me that shirks away. That doesn’t believe that anyone really gives a shit about me. It cost me what seemed like love at the time, so many years ago. Surely a lot of unnecessary suffering. I don’t know where it came from. My childhood was fine. At some point, it’s just like hey, you’re a teenager, so now you get to be depressed forever for no legitimate reason. I seem to be doing it again now, but it feels like there is nothing to lose. Just the bonds that go away when I stop putting in effort. I can’t really rely on anyone else ultimately. I sincerely believe, somewhere in the murky wasteland of my thoughts, there’s an answer. Some different way. Some other self. No one can help me find it, and I think they’d advise against it. I’m the most motivated when hurt, angry, and spiteful. Keeping to myself(as much as can be when I am around strangers all day for work) and thinking of all the opportunities lost feels like it will help. The discomfort will push me to make changes. I realize how stupid and foolish that sounds. I’m ready to abandon logic. Logic falls out the window when it comes to people, and I’m a person.

Last updated October 27, 2017