Embracing The Anger?

I’m reading a book by standup comedian Marc Maron and just came across something that makes me feel a bit uncomfortable: “When you’re young you really think you are angry for reasons and causes. As you get older, you realise you just might be angry.”
Great. Now I have to think about this.

What It’s All About. Maybe.

My mind technician thinks that the true source of the excruciating pain from my breakup is because of having lived without true emotional intimacy for so very long and then putting all my eggs of emotional connection need into one basket. I do not think that is what the pain is really all about. Sure, that is a part of it but what really hurts beyond hurt is the loss of hope. I would not have admitted it to anyone including myslef but deep down I knew my life was broken and needed to be fixed. So when She came along and made me feel so safe that She could quiet my worried mind with Her mere presence rather than me taking Ritalin, I fell so desperately in love. It felt that with Her in my life everything would be fixed. And the sad, sad trouth is that if She had stuck around long enough to help me open my eyes to the true nature of my issues so that I could get help, my life would have been fixed. The other part of that sad, sad truth is that had I paid more attention to what She was saying, had paid more attention to Her, she would likely still be a part of my life. There is a great deal of blame on me for the breakup.

Having left, She not only took Herself out of my life, She took my hope and my dreams with Her. It feels so empty and so cold now.

And I still love Her.

Confusion.

I must’ve dreamed a thousand dreams
Been haunted by a million screams

When Genesis wrote this song they were not talking about my situation. But in many ways it still applies. I have been living in the Land of Confusion for the past 6? 7? 8 months? Considering how things turned out I have clearly been the one in the dark since before the breakup. Since the breakup though, I have really understood what it means to live through those thousand dreams and million screams. I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes. Other times, it hits me like a tank during the days. I want to scream so hard that my vocal cords are ripped out by the force of the escaping air. There does not seem to be an end to this despair. I know there are others struggling with the same questions but it makes not my burden any less crushing.

And not much love to go round
Can’t you see
This is a land of confusion.

In this case, my problem is quite the opposite: there is way too much love. It fills me to the brink and it has nowhere to go for She is not with me. I think of Her and my eyes fill with tears. Some say it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Bullshit! How could that possibly be true?! How could that pain be worth anything?! How could running out of the office to escape in the bathroom and collapse on the floor hyperventilating and crying be worth anything?!

The refrain of the song represents which direction I need to choose. Though lacking in ability to see where to go, or the strength to continue for much longer, or the belief that the world without Her is not the one worth living in, let’s hope that one day I will be able to get better.

This is the world we live in
And these are the hands we’re given
Use them and let’s start trying
To make it a place worth living in.

Amen to that.

Adrift.

It was a good night. A bunch of friends came over to spend time with me and play Cards Against Humanity – a favourite of Yours Truly. Over the course of the night, as I was posting an occasional picture to Instagram, the number of my followers has gone down. It was clear right away but I looked anyway. Following each other on Instagram was our last, however tenuous, link to each other. This is it. I expected it to happen sooner or later but now that it did I cannot stop thinking about it. Why? Why now? Although I am fairly active, there was very rarely anything from her in my feed. We were not commenting nor “liking” each other’s photos. Why? I know the answer but it hurts too much to even consider it. This was our last link – my last lifeline. I am now adrift and powerless. And I still love Her.

Winning! (while reading this title, visualise American actor Charlie Sheen)

I was walking to the theatre this afternoon for the improv show and was hoping that solo scenes would not be a part of it. In improv we sometimes use a competition-like format. It is not a competition in a sports sense but rather a way to facilitate it for the audience to invest themselves in the show and connect to the characters on stage. In any competition there are winners and losers but on stage we all support each other. The real competition is always against self in the constant strife to get better and to do a good show. That said, nobody likes to lose spectacularly which is my track record with solo scenes. OK, so it is was a track record of one but, oh, what a disastrous one!

So as I was getting closer to the theatre, an anticipation of the rush of being on stage has set in and I stopped dreading the possibility of facing my nemesis. Or rather being inside my nemesis? Well, you know what I mean.

As the “competition” progressed and other players left the show (no, it is not like wrestling – we do not determine winners or losers; it is all improvised) it was down to three players including yours truly. If you thinking “Oh my god! The last round is going to involve solo scenes!”, you are correct! Of course, being a much more experienced improviser than I was the last time I had a lot more tools in my improv belt. Of course, having gone through the emotional rollercoaster of the last three months, I felt about as sure of myself as a eunuch in a whorehouse. I have about zero self-assurance. In my time as an improviser, I had numerous opportunities to train with some amazing artists. I chose to put my trust in their craft and in what they have taught me. Without thinking that it was all on me, I was able to relax and pull together a pretty amazing scene that the audience loved. I did not end up winning the show but I came in second and that was my best showing so far. Afterwards, fellow improvisers came up to congratulate me and tell me how much they loved my solo scene. It was a success.

And yet, it was a success that still felt empty, for She was not with me. She will never know what happened tonight. In the end, win or lose, every success feels like a loss for I have lost Her.

The sound of children

Mirrorgirl

WHAT IS THE PROPER AGE TO GET MARRIED? 

     "Eighty-four. Because at that age, you don't have to work anymore, and 
     you can spend all your time loving each other in your bedroom." (Judy, 
     8) 
    childE "Once I'm done with kindergarten, I'm goin o find me a wife." (Tommy, 5) WHAT DO MOST PEOPLE DO ON A DATE? "On the first date, they just tell each ot her lies, and that usually gets them interested enough to go for a second date." (Mike, 10) WHEN IS IT OKAY TO KISS SOMEONE? "You should never kiss a girl unless you have enough bucks to buy her a big ring and her own VCR, 'cause she'll want to have videos of the wedding." (Jim,10) "Never kiss in front of other people. It's a big embarrassing thing if anybody sees you. But if nobody sees you, I might be willing to try it with a…

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Support.

Forget those of you who are stumbling upon this humble blog for the first time, please allow me to recap the previous posts: depressed for about two decades, got dumped by the love of my life, went into a total meltdown, blogging anonymously as a way of getting my thoughts in order and using this as outlet, getting (A LOT OF) therapy.

Here’s a thing about being depressed for so long without anyone realising the extent of it: this requires not letting anyone in close enough to see what is going on inside me. That in turn means that there is no support, no cheering section wanting me to keep going. I have been trying to be more open with people in my life. Some of them know the extent of my issues but it will take a lot of good will to bring things to where acquaintances can grow into adult and caring friendships. Last night I had the following texting exchange with one of my improv friends:

Friend: Hi, (me).
F: How have you been since we last talked?
Me: Same. Teetering on the edge type of thing.
F: OkAy.

I had no idea what to say. How do normal adults communicate? What do they say? Where do they learn the right things to say? How do they then parlay that knowledge into forming productive adult relationships?

There are a lot of questions to answer in order for me to grow. My therapist has been advising me to take risks and go to places where people congregate so that I might perchance meet some of them. Except the therapist does not a cheer squad make. There are people who wish me to get better but they are either very busy or do not wish to get involved. I do not blame them. Or perhaps I just do not see them? Yours truly is truly a mess. What I am thankful for is the support of the wonderful WordPress community. You guys and gals have been my cheering section through the most difficult and painful period of my life.

And now I will return my attention to a funky band on stage doing Stevie Wonder’s “Superstition.”

Searching To Survive.

Google and smartphones have changed the conversational landscape. People do not argue for hours anymore about a matter of fact: they just whip out their smartphones and look it up. I do it all the time because my memory sucks. I keep going “you know, it’s that thing, from that place… you know what I’m talking about!” Nobody does, of course, which is why Google and HTC are directly responsible for keeping my sanity functioning. When I had my meltdown, I even Googled “psychotherapy in (my city)” and “ways to cope.”

Sadly, Google itself is yet to move into the realm of therapy. Or online dating for that matter, which, I am sure, will be quite a day! So apart from the constant searchers for the “whatsitcalleds” and the “whatchamacallits,” there is something that I keep plugging into Google in the hopes of finding something new, something that would change my current situation. In the hopes of being able to get ideas on how to keep on living after being dumped by the love of my life, I have been googling the self-help sites on how to do just that. There even was the “No B. S. Guide” from Cosmopolitan that was full of B.S. So here are some thoughts on their suggestions.

1. Avoid contact.
In my case that is not the issue since She was clear about me never speaking to Her again. I desperately wish I could but I am respecting Her wishes on the matter.

2. Think about Her faults.
Easy. She is impatient, presumptuous, and is seriously lacking in tact. Which is why She reacted the way She did to my letter: She misunderstood some stuff and decided to think the worst of me. My therapist insists my letter was quite clear and there was nothing to misunderstand; in his words she is a “cold bitch.” Whether logical or not, I do not believe that.

3. Find someone else.
This is damned hard for several reasons. I was never that good with women at the best of times. Except now I have no desire to find someone new. In fact, it is worse than that. My usually overly active sex drive is all but gone. My brain has done what millions of years of evolution could not: it made a male (Yours Truly) monogamous. Of course with my luck that means I am on a self-imposed abstinence regime. Be still my heart!

4. Give it time.
Time cures all. Or so they say. We shall see. So far – not so good. It has been about three and a half months and though the worst of the pain has either subsided or I have just gotten used to it, I am still just as much in love with Her as I was before.

So I guess that means that the search for the cure from unrequited love continues. And I still love Her.

Google, Google on the screen,
Won’t you wipe my love slate clean?