12 March, 2008

Journal 018

Kind of getting bored of talking about myself, I guess. Especially when not much of particular excitement is happening. Maybe it's my old feelings pulling me back, but I also feel like not having to explain the "excruciating minutiae, of every, single, daily event". Or rather, not having to lay bare every impulse and activity I engage in. Partly because I just can't be bothered to exert the effort. One of those psych books I read kept stressing the importance of the observing self, but I can't formally evaluate every little thing that goes on in my life and mind.

My glasses finally broke yesterday. The lens can not be placed back in the frame with any tools that are available to me. So I'm kind of screwed. Luckily, I have my contacts, but the more/longer I wear them, the more they irritate me. I also have an older pair of glasses which is in good shape, but the prescription is prehistoric, and it doesn't fit terribly comfortably on my face these days, either. Basically, they increase my ability to see clearly from about 5 inches (without glasses) to about 11 inches (with the old pair). So I still have to sit up with my face practically against the monitor just to work at the computer. It's irritating.

It bugs me that despite having practically no responsibilities for nearly two full years, I still haven't had the chance to live exactly the way I'd like. That is, on a rolling schedule, where I wake up whenever the hell I want to, and with complete isolation, not interacting with another human being, in person, except when absolutely necessary, which I guess would mean every few weeks or so when I'd have to hit the store for stuff (assuming that I didn't bother going to the Open Stage, to avoid people).

I'm pretty good at isolating myself. I desire companionship, but I don't know how to deal with it, so when I get it, I want to get rid of it. Then I hole myself away so that people won't bother me. But then I sit there and ruminate on how lonely I am. But I can't deal with people, so there's no solution. And the more I hide myself away, the harder it gets to come out. The longer I go without needing to hit the store for some little thing, the harder it is to convince myself to get out there. I can't even stand the thought of going outside into the public market place in daylight. There's no way I'm gonna go and get myself a new pair of glasses anytime soon.

I don't want to die, but I wish I could just crawl into a hole somewhere and hide for a few years.


  1. I can't help but feel that hiding out only exacerbates your condition. I mean, you did well at Bucknell, considering you went to classes every day (something I never quite achieved), ate in a public place, lived in community housing, went to town for various things, went on walks...

    The more you hole up, the more you convince yourself that you need to hole up; it just keeps looping and making your situation work.

    The solution would be, it seems to me, to get out more often, day by day, until you're back up to that "somewhat comfortable" level you were at when you lived at Bucknell. I mean, the thought of going to the bank or to get tissues certainly didn't seem to inspire the same fear in you then as it does now.

  2. I can effortlessly empathize with what you say here, Z. And while what tarepanda said is definetly crucial for consideration, I feel as though your situation might mirror my experiences with the majority of humanity. I can do it, I can get through it, I can even enjoy it, but when I DON'T have it, I'm certainly no worse off.

    The fear factor is another thing to consider though. I guess it's a trade off. Is being free of people My inclination is of course to say "yes, aboslutely." But I'm probably 50x "happier" right now going to work and living with 3 people than I was in summer session living in what was a really excellent hole.

    I live in a small, hot, dark wood-based room consisting of nothing but me and my momentos (no TV either). My only interactons were with Leah on the tele, and occasionally saying "chicken" or "pizza" to the food servers. It was very poetic but it was also extremely depressing. Of course... I was seeing a shrink which made me more depressed, I had just found out that Leah had a "soulmate" (after she told me *I* held that moniker!) AND on top of that I was unhappy with my position and had no hope for the future. So maybe THAT is why I was depressed. I guess I'll never know.

    But for me one of, if not the single most important factor EVER regarding whether I'm okay or not is whether I feel good about myself. Feel good about "who" I am and "what" I'm doing and such. Like with MySpace and stuff, that's what it's about, defining myself as being a cool person. Do you relate at all? And being alone can make me very strong... and in the long run my theory is that being alone builds strength that can never, ever be built with people. But there is NOTHING that whipes the darkness slate clean like being involved in things like people and work. Edorphins or whatever. It works wonders.