Zero

Posted on February 25, 2019 by vftc11

A milestone today.

My birthday.

Whoop-dee-fucking-doo.

And this is a milestone. I am not going to say what milestone it is – suffice it to say, that as you get older, each one takes on a deeper significance. You start to consider your own mortality in your daily existence. That can put a damper on things – if you let it. Or, at least that’s what they say…

I’m not going to try and find new meaning in this event. I’m not sure I have the time nor the energy to. Right now, I feel so disorganized and in chaos, I couldn’t envision adding any “tasks” to my ever-growing “to-do” list…yeah, like I even get a choice in that…

post-its

As for me, the journey is continuing for now. With each step, I test the ground beneath my feet. I know that even if I take the step, the support can give way at any time, or I can be washed away like leaves in a stream.

You just never know.

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Quiet

Posted on February 22, 2019 by vftc11

I really don’t like feeling like this.

Like I am ready to explode – shatter into a million pieces.

My pulse is racing.

I feel afraid…unsure of what to say or do next.

My head is spinning.

I want to cry out in frustration, pleading for some higher level of guidance to give me some assurance that I matter in this fucked up world. Praying for some sort of assistance in settling the rising panic that seems to be ripping my heart out of my chest.

Has my life been of value? Have I made any contribution to the betterment of humanity? Has my life been a waste? Where did my happiness go? What happened to my optimism? How do I move forward from here? And so on…

When I find that I have not an inkling of an answer to any of those questions, the panic amplifies and the darkness closes in around me. The judgmental chatter in my brain gets louder and wears me down, sapping what little energy I have left to cope with the basic functions of life.

I opened this post with intent of not using the “h-word” – but I can’t think of any other way to say it…

I hate feeling like this.

 

 

Three days…

 

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A Vicious Cycle

Posted on February 21, 2019 by vftc11

What is it they say…“The definition of insanity is repeating the same actions and expecting a different result”?

If that’s true, then we’re all crazy.

LIFE is repeating the same actions (sleep, get up, shower, eat breakfast, go to work/school/wherever, do what ever it is you do, come home, eat dinner, go to bed – and repeat the next day) and expecting a different result (get a raise, get a promotion, win the lottery, become an overnight celebrity, etc.) And when that expected result doesn’t materialize, a lot of people tend to blame everyone else – but themselves.

Does that make us all insane?

Why do you care?

You’re probably not even reading the post this far.

We all have our own little dramas going on, 24/7, and you are no different.

Neither am I.

But we all look for something that is in diminishing supply – human contact. Non-judgmental, non-racist, accepting, loving, respectful, intelligent contact. And we’ll take it in what ever form we can get. Ideally, in an environment that nourishes the heart and soul of our humanity.

Until we take control back, we’ll just keep doing the same thing…over and over and over and over and over…

 

Four days.

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Five

Posted on February 20, 2019 by vftc11

Have you ever felt an exhaustion so complete that you couldn’t imagine going on with living? I’m having that feeling more and more these days.

Am I psyching myself out? Probably.

How did I get this far off the path? I haven’t the foggiest idea.

As I am writing this, I am becoming more cognizant of the fact that I am perpetuating my own condition.. I am complaining incessantly for no other reason than to look for something to blame my depression on. I am – in fact – giving voice to the negative dialog running in my head, Fuck – that’s the LAST thing I want to do.

I guess it had to come out somewhere. It’s very prominent in my journaling, and I guess I’ve turned a blind eye on it for the past few years. And that was likely due to exhaustion.

This beast hounding me is of my own doing. But the depression isn’t. And that’s the battle that’s getting harder to fight. It’s a fine line to walk, knowing the past experiences I’ve had and the intensity of the process. And I really don’t know which end of it I will come out at.

When you feel the last of your strength slowly draining away, you wonder how you can go on. You hope that someone might take notice, and offer a kind word or even a smile. And when that doesn’t occur, your mind begins to repeat the words “help me” over and over – an unspoken plea to any human being that might have a similar degree of empathy to sense these silent cries.

It is a rare occurrence that any human being will pick up on these kind of feelings. We are all so desensitized to each other by the digital environment. Heads down, fingers swiping over tiny screens, lost in the immediate gratification provided by these addictive little “things.” And – yes – I am including myself in this phenomena.

The degree of my pain is the result of my own doing. But the source of it – I am unsure.

Your mind considers many more in-depth issues than it does in it’s younger days…or so I’m told.

Whoop-de-fucking-doo.

 

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A Change

Posted on February 19, 2019 by vftc11

Six days.

Six days to go until I reach a milestone that I am…well… unsure of. We all go through this. Some of us have an easier time of it than others. Why am I feeling like this? It’s unsettling, to put it mildly. Mid-life crisis? How the fuck should I know?

What am I feeling? Scared, angry, frustrated, exhausted…to start with. And I have a cacophony of dialog going on in my head that eats away at my soul. I end up with more questions than answers. My stress level continues to ratchet up, while my energy levels plummet. And all of that adds a new level to the pain I live with every day. And all of that usually ends up with the same final question – how much more of this can I take before I look for a way out?

Boy, am I a happy-fucking camper…I wouldn’t want to be around someone like me, either.

So here I am – heart pounding in my chest – with no recollection of what any other emotion feels like. What is happening to the world?  What is happening to me?

Six days…

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Winter’s Here

Posted on February 11, 2019 by vftc11

I hate the snow.

I hate how it disrupts lives, creates confusion, and chills humanity to the bone.

When I find that I can’t get around to do even the most simple tasks, I get very frustrated.

And depressed.

Sure, it has a certain placid feeling about it. Yeah, it’s “pretty”…and I am told that all the time. “Why can’t you just relax and appreciate the beauty of it? What’s the matter with you?”

I feel isolated this time of year. The white stuff only adds to that (in my mind.) Along with the sparking of the survival instinct (food, shelter, etc.) to make it through however long it might last, it’s a rare occasion for me to feel comfortable waiting out the event. And that is part of my “bah humbug” attitude towards this stuff.

To me, it also emphasizes the loneliness of Winter –

Dark.

Damp.

Cold.

Maybe that explains part of my depression. My birthday is in two weeks – in the depths of Winter. And it just makes it that much harder for me to offset the influences of this external environment on the darkness in my soul.

Winter is here.

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The Roller Coaster Never Stops

Posted on February 1, 2019 by vftc11

It’s another day where I feel like I want to jump out of my skin.

I hate these days.

The mental noise is deafening. I want it to STOP.

It’s been 11 year this August since I was laid off for the first time in my LIFE. At the time, it was the biggest shock of my life. I was too stupid to see it coming my way. The economy was tanking everywhere, and I didn’t foresee it overtaking me. But reality can be a cold bitch.

When the shock wore off, I did find a lot of positivity from the event – optimism that fueled by personal and professional survival. For that, I am thankful for having gone through it.

But now, looking back, that is the last time in my life that I felt real and solid personal security in my life. Professionally, I am now, forever looking through a lens of being disposable to the working world.

Hell, that can even go for how I feel about being in this country. We ae now a society that considers anyone who doesn’t agree with us as disposable. We are so out of touch with our humanity that life has become cheap. We are desensitized of the pain we are capable of inflicting on each other. And we have no understanding of how that type of injury affects each of us.

And when you are dealing with that kind of “life” yourself, it is a lonely and frightening time. You really don’t know if this might be the time that you are pushed through that doorway. Weighing the pain you’ve endured for so long against taking a step that can’t be undone is a place I would not wish on anyone…ANYONE. You don’t know darkness like this. It affects your soul.

For me, if I am able to hang on by my fingernails and ride it out for however long it takes, it has passed. But being in that darkness, you DO NOT KNOW if that light is coming, EVER. You can’t even imagine it. And when it happens, you feel like a tiny bit more of you has died.

And when you try to fit back in to daily life, it’s more difficult. It takes more and more energy to cope with things, leaving less and less for your defense the next time the roller coaster plunges.

I want it to stop.

It sucks.

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Barely Hanging On

Posted on January 28, 2019 by vftc11

Writing is a habit.

I guess it figures, being as I love to read. But, it’s more than a habit – it’s therapy. Something that I’m finding more and more necessary in being able to cope with what’s going on in the world – and in my head. I’m not even sure I’m doing anything good or right by this writing “need” I appear to have. I’m not even aware that it’s doing anything for me. It might be the worst thing ever – I wouldn’t even realize it. So, can you really even call it…therapy?

I just last week finished filling a red Moleskine notebook with these mental rants and such. 100 months (non-consecutively) of my life and its random jottings. I’ve always thought that when something happens to me, my writings would survive and tell my story. Not that my story is worth any more than anyone else’s story. Really, nobody is going to give a flying fig about me or my life. We’ve all be desensitized to humanity by this very medium – the internet. We all do it.

I’m climbing the walls right now. I need a new notebook and I can’t get to the store to obtain one until later this afternoon. So, I’m turning to this forum. TBH, it’s not the same. If I write, it’s only me that sees it. If I type here…well, I don’t know if anyone pays attention to the ramblings of a depressive guys who’s not sure if he’s make to the end of the week.

Nobody gives a shit. Why should I?

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Hello?

Posted on January 22, 2019 by vftc11

Anyone there? I’m never sure…

I don’t quite know what I am looking for in writing these posts. I typically have written most everything in long-hand.  I love writing and drawing – anything with a pen or pencil in my hand. I’m old-fashioned, I guess.

It’s feeling like another dark day, filled with questions and doubt. It tends to pull the bottom of my heart out and let everything drop into the dark pits. I question everything in my existence that I’ve “accomplished.” The resulting internal dialog is what I find the most painful and maddening part of these time. It’s like I can’t find any quiet or peace to rest and recharge, to sort things out and give myself the confidence and support I need. The time I need to seek the answers to questions like;

  • Why am I here?
  • Do I bring any value to the world?
  • What am I supposed to be doing?
  • Am I good enough?

And many more…

A lot of it is exhaustion. I haven’t had a vacation in probably 3 years (or more?) But the pain this life puts me through at these times is excruciating. The constant mental dialog (brain noise) only adds to the hopelessness that quickly builds in my heart. I would do anything to stop the noise and the pain inside me.

Anything.

And nobody understands this sort of existence. They judge…or they dismiss.

And it’s still dark…

Hello?

 

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I’m Still Here – How Did That Happen?

Posted on January 16, 2019 by vftc11

I’m not sure if anyone reads this (especially since I’ve not written for 2 years…duh…) If so, great. If not, then this is hopefully something I can do to help navigate the ups and downs of life in the world today.

Depression is misunderstood by a majority of the population. Even my wife. And she’s an MSW.

I’ve lived with it for most of my life. Most times, you “deal with it.” Alone. Men don’t dare tell anyone you are having “issues,” lest you be stigmatized as being weak or vulnerable. You simply ride it out.

When you are younger, context isn’t an issue. And you have plenty of diversions to take you mind off of the ups and downs you are experiencing. But as you grow older, and your humanitarian “buffer” of family and friends begin to wear away, and the world grows more and more complex and stark, you find yourself left alone to deal with the full brunt of these chemical changes in your brain. These changes that make the bottom drop out of your heart and cast a darkness over your soul that is so dense as to cause you to doubt your ability to “ride it out.”

Some people say things like –

“You can choose to be happy, you know?”

“Cheer up!”

“Smile!”

…and so on.

They confuse depressing with depression. They can’t understand what it’s like to feel the depths of despair that these episodes create. You want to die – anything to stop the pain and mental torture we endure. Your mind repeats, over and over, all of the negative thoughts racing through your brain. True or not, it screams at you 24/7, until your exhausted soul will do anything to make the pain stop. Anything. Death will be welcomed, if it meant that this vicious cycle is broken. And what makes it 1000 time worse, is your mind telling you that you are on your own dealing with this. Nobody gives a shit.

I know. I’ve been there before.

I’m there right now.

 

 

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