Somewhere In Between

OI!Don't you dare get maudlin.For sure life is a bitch, and seldom gives us what we feel it should. But I , for one, would be extremely upset if you vanished.Sincerely,Camy

Don't make decisions you can't undo whilst you're feeling depressed. Revealing your name is not reversible. Not that anyone here likely means you harm it would be unwise to make that decision without being in the mindset to consider any unanticipated ramifications.

Strangely enough, Mr.Bubbly over here has had those thoughts too. But then I found out I'm autistic. Okay, not profoundly so, but it's definitely there, and part of me. It's not like I can change it, but I just cannot relate to human beings very well. It's a supreme bummer to want to socialize, to be part of the group of humanity, and yet to be forever misunderstood. You want it, you can see it through the window, you can smell it through the screen door, you can even hear its many aspects, but it seems to be locked away, just out of reach.Now YOU, as aside from your previous denials that you might actually have this challenge in your life too, seem to be dwelling on something and/or someone other than yourself. You are hyper focussing on what is not to be, rather than on what is. (Hyper focussing is another autistic trait, so you might want to really think about dealing with your issues from that viewpoint, since the more you speak they more they look to be a factor at least, in your behavior) You need to do a benefit analysis of your life. Look at what you've actually got, not what got away. Then look at how what you have might actually lead you to getting what you want next (not what you've already lost and cannot replace). What you need is a different approach to life. When you're gay, but you keep dating girls to get your satisfaction, it's just not going to work. As the last girl departs over the horizon, you whine and mope about life being bad, and never getting an effective relationship, but it doesn't seem to be occurring to you that you are using the wrong approach. Banging the girl is not going to satify a romantic desire for a guy. Period. THIS IS AN ANALOGY, of course.BTW, revealing your name in public, while a good thing if done for the right reasons, would in this case merely be a disguised suicide attempt. It's a way of killing yourself without blame. It's risky behavior in order to be able to whine about the 'oh so sad' consequences later. It is actually a way of sidestepping your responsibility to yourself. I think you need to seriously list what you have in your life: everything. Then start to put them into 3 lists: good stuff, bad stuff, indifferent stuff. Make sure it includes relationships, physical things, and stuff like skills and abilities. Once you've listed all those things let us go over them, ask some questions, because you will have missed things (before you list the category), and then we analyze your +,-,0 compared to what you've done. I suspect we will quickly see a trend that you are not even seeing, and this can only help you. Nothing will change for you EXCEPT that you get someone else's view(s) but this may quite easily be enough. If not, I'm sure one or two here have enough imagination to actually come up with viable suggestions on changes.

Camy, Wibby, Trab I don't know how to explain it, this thought process on writing the above entry. But I'll try, because I think there are those that do give a fuck.It was riddled with metaphors that only I understand. And reading it back, I understand why it came across so depressing.THE NAME THINGIt's never about telling the world my last name. No, it's more along the lines of telling the world my "real" name. Or me. The me inside that I hide from the world. The drug addict, the twisted little slut that doesn't know how to show love or give love. The boy who uses sex as a tool to further my own self destruction.For over a year I've tried, so desperately hard to mold myself into a person I know I should become. To become sober and something like a human. To push my real personality into a dark place inside my self. To hide behind indifference and humor so no one could get close enough to see the train wreck that steadily approaches.I work with twenty or so people now for over a year. And I can honestly say I don't have a single one of them as a friend. At work I see them laugh, I see them hang out after work, and I see myself going home, alone. I wonder why I can't give a fuck enough to even try and make friends. They seem so happy and filled with life. And then I look at myself and see a depressed boy existing life. Existing life in a quest to try and maintain my sobriety and my sanity. Because life is boring, life is tedious and unfulfilling without drugs.SOBRIETY SUCKSAddicts, even those that no longer use, think about getting high almost daily. It doesn't go away over time and the allure never lessens. Each night I come home to an empty apartment and clean it, just for something to do to keep me busy. I write, things I hope no one ever will see, just to take my mind off the "thing" I've become. And when it gets too bad, I go on the prowl and find something/anything to fuck. Just to take my mind off the sober mindless drone I've become.I'm not built to exist life in this fashion. I'm not programed to be a functioning human steadily marching to a death in my eighties. My nature is to experience the third eye, a state of mind that only altered living can provide. To live life for only this moment.Writing helps, but after awhile I want to experience what I'm writing. Love, relationships, someone to have. The only time I ever fell in love, the only time I allowed myself to fall in love, was when I was an addict. Sometimes I think LOVE=ADDICTION. And addicts need something to be addicted too.Jason R.PS: Des, my friend from down under. I read, I understand, and I thank you.

The me inside that I hide from the world. The drug addict, the twisted little slut that doesn't know how to show love or give love. The boy who uses sex as a tool to further my own self destruction.

I'm no psychologist, but I'd say that describes a classic case of lack of self esteem. I don't know where it came from, but I guarantee that nobody has that naturally: it comes from being beaten down by someone, most often those who should be caring for you most, like parents, siblings, and lovers.The method of destruction one craves is generally one that will cause the most pain for those who hurt you in the first place.

For over a year I've tried, so desperately hard to mold myself into a person I know I should become. To become sober and something like a human. To push my real personality into a dark place inside my self. To hide behind indifference and humor so no one could get close enough to see the train wreck that steadily approaches.

Nobody will ever mold themselves into the person they SHOULD become. Should is intrinsically dependent on outside sources, to provide that pressure. Whether it is 'should' due to health requirements, or 'should' due to societal requirements, or 'should' due to emotional requirements, it is an outside influence that drives it. What you need to do is mold yourself into the person you WANT to become. You need to know who you are now, and you need to recognize what you a truly wanting, and then you work on becoming that person. Besides there not being enough incentive to put in the effort to become that 'should' person, the benefit is for 'them', and not you.

And then I look at myself and see a depressed boy existing life. Existing life in a quest to try and maintain my sobriety and my sanity.

The key here is to identify the depression cause, and deal with it. I admit that I cannot begin to think how it would feel to have a chemical dependency. It can only make things more difficult, but somehow I never fell into that trap.

Jason, you are heaping up all sorts of expectations for yourself about diffferent states of being: is, was, will be, should be, would be.... Let yourself be. You don't have to be all that. If how things are right now aren't how you'd like them to be, OK, but you can work on that. If it was so easy to get Instant Jason, New and Improved, Just Add Water! then we'd all be new and improved. ...Maybe it is gradual, and we don't see the changes in ourselves instantly from where we are.Try not to judge yourself or others, especially not for friendship. Let them be friendly and let yourself let them into your life. It sounds as though you're holding others at arm's length, maybe out of fear they won't like the inner you. Ehh, they aren't that well adjusted either, but that doesn't make them or you bad.So OK, you have cravings for something physical to help you through things. A lot of people do, but won't admit it to themselves. A lot do it to varying degrees. Try not to heap a bunch of crap on yourself for wanting something more. Of course you want the physical and the spiritual. Try talking some and open up a little more with people locally who've been friendly and might be trusted a little. Try some other sources for support and therapy. You have choices. Some might seem impossible or at least improbable. Don't rule them out. Please, don't make that final, fatal choice. Keep making other choices instead. Keep on choosing life.I have a friend who tried that, more than once. Life would be much less, without him. He's great in ways he may never see.I have a friend who may have tried that (it's unclear what happened) and died. The world would be better with him in it. Jason, life is for living. Keep on choosing. Choose to live and love yourself. -- Get help, if you need it. Everybody needs help now and then.

Well, what can I say? I've been there. Actually I'm still fucking here. Though my circumstances seem to change and twist with cleverer and more painful nuances. Some of which hits me from the blind side so hard I spend days mulling over how it happened, how it's even fucking possible.But I think I've watched this happen to people more than I've been aware of it in myself.Dronehood is probably the worst part of it all. Molding oneself to society's expectations. Or whatever you think society expects you to be, all the while chipping away at the original pieces of yourself. But what hurts the most is trying to become what I think I should be. And trying to hide the disappointment in myself from others. And the craziness, and the insecurities, and the emotions. And the inevitable sense of failure.I've become what I am because of what I let my mind twist me into. Of course having my mom telling me there's something wrong with me ever since the second grade, and being issued many, many pills and even having my DNA sequenced to search for an extra chromosome didn't help either. (As far as we're dipping into insanity, I might as well just put that out there.) But I've fucked and fucked to forget and escape from my otherwise dismal life. I really can't count how many guys I've had sex with. And I fucked so much I can't fuck anymore because it doesn't feel like it used to and I've done so many dangerous things I'm surprised I haven't caught HIV yet. I got a scare last week. So I went into the clinic for a shot and 14 tablets of doxycycline. Which makes it impossible to run in the morning because of nausea.All of it makes me want to crawl inside my shell and fucking disappear. Or fucking die. Or be presumed dead and disappear in my own little hell. Even though I already feel like I'm in a world of shit, most of the time. Or join the forces and take my inherent rage at the world out on small defenseless villages.I don't know why I'm even here, writing this. Because, for the most part, I agree with you. And I have those thoughts quite often. With the exception of sobriety. Because I'm not sober. And AA convinced me that sobriety is the ultimate form of dronehood. That addicts do need something to be addicted to, and it only helps when god gets into it somehow, because it transforms the gut-wrenching, moral-abandoning yearning into faith in the promise. Then it becomes an addiction to the program. Which seems to be worse than the actual drug sometimes. I went to AA for 364 days, while I was on probation as a juvenile for arson. It was good sometimes. I had a cool boyfriend who had a crazy fucking mom. Overall, though it seemed like a farce, and a giant waste of time. But I was never the kid who walked around town with a pacifier, all thizzed out. And I stay away from stimulants 'cause they're fucking evil.To making friends, it's hard. I don't know what to say. I always feel like I have to hide something from the people I work with. And I usually manage to build resentment towards them because they seem so successful and such good workers. But that's something completely different that adds to everything else. I mean, what the hell kind of job am I going to get with nine years of non-profit experience and 12 months of culinary education and no degree? (Which is a bad story in itself that I'm still not over.)I don't really know you, Jason. And I'm not really trying to make you feel better. Or worse. Or even trying to say what I've got going is worse than what you have. Because that would be some histrionic bullshit. So don't take this as some sort of letter of concern. I may be trying to commiserate a little, though I believe pity is a wasted sentiment. And the "please don't do anything stupid" pleas I find offending after a while, when I feel like this. Which is why I'm not going there. But, I'm not above pointing out how shit life really seems to be right now. And I fucking know how it is to view your life with a dull ache of disgust from inside the you you've created for other people to view.This came out darker than I expected.But, I guess I'm just saying you're not alone.--Gabe

A comment on Monk's comment. I like most of the people here. I'd be your friend if you'd let me. In case you're wondering, Monk, since it's your comment. I'd GLADLY be your friend. Sincerely.