Monthly Archives: September 2013

Day 54. Still Spinning Out Of Control.

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I am OK.

I breathe easy.

What’s done is done and it is in the past.

This is a temporary feeling and it is passing.

 

On the advice of my mind technician, I am supposed to repeat this mantra every time I have an anxiety attack. So far they (the mantra repetitions) work on the physiological level. My heartbeat slows down and gets back to normal but the emotional darkness remains. Though the attack has passed, the thoughts that triggered it are still weighing heavily upon my soul. My soul yearns for You, my darling. It wants to tear out of my chest and fly to You! I have been away from You for over two months and the pain of our separation is just as unbearable now as it was then. Everyone is telling me to move on and to find someone new but as much I try to look at other women, none compare to You. How can I move on if that means letting go of Your memory?

I am not ready. And I still love You.

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Day 53. Calm Before The Storm.

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This is the last calm weekend for a while. Starting Tuesday, my life will become a whirlwind of photography, improv, more photography, etc. I am hoping to score some gigs; even if they are unpaid, it is fine as I am being paid in access, opportunities, and waved cover  charges.

I am hoping not to forget to keep making the posts but I might. Peace out.

Day 52. Keeping Busy.

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Today was supposed to be a quiet day followed by an evening of improv greatness. I was planning on catching up with my photography and prepping my autobiography blurb and setting up a portfolio for the blog that I want to photograph and write for. (Preferably without ending sentences with prepositions.) However, a good friend of mine needs help moving (his earlier apartment burned down) and I shall gladly oblige.

One of the things that came out of these recent times is that I do not really have any close friends that I could call at any time to talk about my shit. I do have those kind of friends but they live thousands of miles away in a very different time zone. As my mind tech has noted, this is a long time without true emotional intimacy. A perfect example: I am not sitting at home, typing this post on my computer. I am at a bar where I came to see an acquaintance that is moving to New York. I feel so insanely uncomfortable because I do not know anyone else here that it is actually preferable to sit alone on a bench than try to interact.

So,
image

I raise this glass to old friends and hopefully some new ones.

Sláinte.

Day 51. Trying To Relax.

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On the advice of my mind technician I have tried some mindful relaxation during lunch break. Thank fully the weather is nice and I went to sit in my car and listen to the sounds of wind while trying to repeat a mantra that is supposed to quiet my worried mind.

This is harder than I remember it being when I was younger. Granted my mind has been far more perturbed lately and in my younger days (prior to being diagnosed with ADHD and discovering Methylphenidate) I spent a lot of time shutting and locking down my emotions. Still though, this is ging to be far harder than I initially assumed.

The thoughts that plagued me the most were the self-aggrandising daydreaming kind and the ones about Her. I guess no matter how much I am trying to gain some emotional peace, the memories of Her haunt my every thought for I do still love Her.

Day 50. Picking Up.

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Well, this is no good. Between the pain in the wrist and in my blogging thumbs and just generally feeling sick, I have completely forgot about blogging.

To be honest though, I have been feeling a bit better lately and as usual I deluded myself into thinking that I am better.

But I’m not. In the past, I have tended to latch onto an idea or a goal that would get me feeling excited and optimistic. And I would latch onto it with the thinking that it would make everything better because the problem was outside of myself rather than inside of me.

I have got to stop doing that!

I need to work on getting myself better. I have to work on changing my patterns of negative and defeatist thinking. Otherwise, I will not get healthy and will continue to carry this pain inside.

One of the reasons I am so fucked up right now is because I have thought of my last relationship the same way as I did about my other obsessions: this will make everything right. So when She left me, the sense of loss of my greatest love was perversely intertwined with the sense of loss of my better self. Even though that was never the case – that relationship, nor any other relationship, would have “cured” me – I still can’t help but mourn the loss of that future.

And regardless of everything else, I still love Her and think of Her constantly.

Day 47. Another Day, Another Torture.

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This morning my mind treated me to another panic attack. Like a broken record my mind goes back to my emotional wound and starts picking on it. I had to run to the bathroom out of sight of my colleagues. Why did I have to fall in love?

Fortunately or unfortunately, I am not confused in my feelings that preoccupy me the most. I am in love. I am in love with someone who does not want me. Someone who asked me not to contact her ever again. I know what I want the most. And that is something I can never have.

What I am not so clear about is where to go from here. How am I supposed to live if the one person I want to live for does not care if I live or die?

I miss her but I know I will never hold her in my arms again.

Why did I have to fall in love?

Day 46. My Version Of Cutting?

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I should have let my knee and my wrist more time to rest but instead the innate force of familial responsibility has overcome my soul and I went to help my mother with her garden. So three hours later, after spending that time digging up clay and on my knees digging out dandelions.

Me remembering Her is my equivalent of self-harming, cutting. My memories of Her are like dandelions, spreading their roots everywhere through my subconscious, unable to be removed without leaving pieces of themselves around and sprouting back up just when I think they are gone. One accidental glimpse of her life and I am reduced to a quivering puddle of snot and tears. How long can this torture go on? I can’t breathe, my pulse is racing so hard that every heartbeat is a deafening noise in my ears, my blood feels like it is boiling hot in my veins, my mind is on fire.

I need to stop! This has to stop!

Day 45. Getting Better Or Just Numb?

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Today is a full day for me. Sort of. First I went to do a photo walk with some local amateur photographers that I have never met. Normally I would be trembling with anxiety but it seems that the events of the last two months have made me somewhat numb to extremes of my internal emotional roller coaster. There is just no gasoline left misery tank, perhaps? Or it is possible that I am actually getting better? Probably not. There hasn’t been enough time for that to happen. In fact, the likelihood is my brain is trying to trick me into thinking that everything is going well just so that I do not go any further in my therapy. After the initial excitement of getting professional help has dampened and I talked out my grievances of the unfairness of the universe, the real hard work needs to be done and I am not looking forward to that. I feel apprehensive and embarrassed; I wish to get some sort of validation and I am terrified to find out the worst about myself. As much as I understand that it was my fault my relationship has ended, I am horrified to have it confirmed by an impartial third party. I have waisted years of my life by not getting help earlier and have settled into this self-pity, angry at the universe kind of lifestyle. So what if I wake up every morning thinking that I hate my life and myself. At least I know where I stand. This therapy and self-discovery thing is too new and I do not have any clue as to where it leads.

One thing I do know is that even though I wish I did not, I still love Her.

Day 43. Universe Is Fucking With Me.

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The tendinitis in my right wrist is still going strong. Typing is torture. Plus I’m starting to get busy again. I am still at the very beginning of my journey and there is still a long way to go; so I am really not where I need to be but at least I’m not where I was yesterday.

It would also seem that some people out there actually like me. There are my improv mates; we had a great practice tonight for our long-form narrative show in two weeks. It will be an improvised play done in a specific genre. The practice, as I said said, went well. I managed to remember what I told myself before: go in with an emotional choice and not a cognitive one. I think it is helping and letting me relax and play the game.

And I am also in demand for my photography skills apparently. I will be covering the local improv festival and I will be starting to cover a bunch of shows here in town for an entertainment blog. Things are starting to get back to the way they were but I am no longer the way I was. Or at least trying not to be the person I have been. There is good reason to be optimistic about the future but my mind is stuck firmly in the past. On Her. So as I am trying to forge a better life for myself and become a better man because even though she will never see the results but she is the one that makes me want to be a better man. So as I strive to get ahead, it is imperative that I forget Her and learn to live without thinking of Her.

But I still love Her.