Thursday, August 27, 2009


It's been awhile so I wrote a lot. The first portion is a non-specific rant about people in general, the second portion is about me and where I'm at right now.

People are social creatures, placing themselves in social groups, eager to categorize themselves, separate themselves from others, be able to define themselves by some form of group. Then, once they've established themselves as a member of some community, it's as if they can't wait to go over to the next community and ruin it, make fun of it, brutalize it, and return home. I'm constantly looking at representatives of certain social groups (ethnicity, religion, geography, etc) being huge d*cks to people in opposing communities, and then at first I wonder, "man, why is everyone part of group "X" such a tool?", but then I'll see people from the group that I thought was the victim, group Y, go and rip on people from group X... Till I finally realized: People are a*holes. It's not Christians, it's not black people, it's not Europeans, it's not Harry Potter fans, it's not members of PETA, it's not members of the NRA... it's everyone. Each group has people that are ridiculed, and people that ridicule others. There is no group that is to blame for bullying other people, it's simply people being people.

It's as if once someone is accepted by one group, they now feel they can hate everyone else. It drives me nuts. Part of the problem is I've spent so much of my life in my head, thinking about everything that I've seen almost every perspective of every argument so I never really think anyone's stupid for thinking the way they do, as it's easy for me to see their side of things. The problem is I'm really bad at talking to people that can't see my side of the argument. I was having a discussion with an atheist (I'm a theist) about the origins of the universe, it was a pretty good conversation, until some more atheists overheard and started calling me stupid. What bothered me when I saw the person who I was conversing with (just some person I'd met) change from someone who had been respectfully considering the things I had been saying and responding with well thought out, intelligent responses, into someone who now discredited all my arguments on the grounds that I was stupid. I had nothing left to say. What was the point of mentioning the fallacies of an ad hominem argument? In fact, there wasn't much point in saying anything at all. I believed in talking snakes and invisible dudes with beards, therefore I was too stupid to say anything correct. I would've told them what a strawman fallacy was, but apparently I was "too stupid". So I thanked them for giving me something to think about (which they did) and walked away. I guess my mother did a good job of instilling in me the habit of being nice to a*holes, because I wanted to stab them all with a fork, which would have solved even less than walking away did.

At first, I thought, "What's wrong with atheists? These people are huge D-bags," then I realized theists do the same thing to atheists. I remember an atheist complaining about Christians making fun of her and calling her names. Are Christians bad people? No, they're just people, doing what people do. Are atheists bad people? No, they're just people.

I guess the whole point of this rant is that it's important to understand where other people are coming from. We aren't better than anyone else, regardless of who they are, what they do, where they're from, or what they believe. It's easy to think someone is dumb for not thinking the way they do, but it's important to realize they are probably just as smart as we are; if we can realize that, then maybe we can begin to listen to the things they're saying, we can start giving them a reason to listen to us, and finally stop being a d*ck.

Getting back to me... I've actually suprised myself with how long I've been able to stave off this recent onslaught of depression. I haven't broken down yet. I've had some modified behavior though: It's getting harder to get out of bed and fall asleep at night, it's getting hard to get out of the shower (the shower is to me a sanctuary of sorts), at work I'm losing my ability to focus and be productive (I can tell it's bad because I'm working on a project I actually enjoy and I still can't bring myself to get much done), and my number of "emergency" bike rides/work out sessions has increased exponentially. In fact I've been riding almost 20 miles a day now (for me that's a lot).

Also I've been attributing a lot of my problems to global factors that are based on my internal, sustaining problems, a recipe for depression, ie if I fail a test it's because I'm not smart - it's my fault, it's one specific failure that points to a huge, global problem (not being smart), and it's sustaining, I can't change how smart I am. It's not that I'm bad at that subject (internal, specific, constant), it's not that the teacher is hard (external, specific, constant), it's not that I didn't get enough sleep the night before (internal, specific, changing) - it's simply that I'm not smart, a small, specific, independant failure pointing to a glaring, unchanging weakness. Granted I think like this all the time, but recently it's been getting much worse. I can't get out of bed because I'm weak. I can't focus at work because I'm bad at concentration and I have a poor work ethic. I'm not in better shape on my bike because I'm an unmotivate person, and as a result I don't push myself hard enough when I ride...

Such is life, but I move forward, through hopeless, black tunnels with white lights at the end bright enough to reveal that there is nothing there, only a nice empty patch of space for me to breakdown before I move on into the next dark tunnel.

Friday, August 21, 2009

My Results

Borderline:Very High

-- Personality Disorder Test --
-- Personality Disorder Information --

I took this test about a month ago and stored the results away in a text file. For being an online test, it seems to be surprisingly accurate.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

The Path Before Me

I said in my last post I feel a crash coming on. Though today, surprisingly, I managed to get through without feeling much of anything (it was good), I know within a week or two I'm eventually going to have to come to face a reality I don't want to face.

This is what is going to happen to me over the course of the next month or two:

I will start to find myself in a permanent, somber state, feeling consistently down, disappointed about who I am, the things I have and haven't done, all my weaknesses (which are not few). It's going to start getting worse 'till eventually I step back from myself and examine the situation. At that point I can either continue in my weakened state of depression, or seize control of the situation by allowing myself to be filled with anger. Anger is perhaps one of the most empowering emotions which is why it's so appealing, but it's also one of the most destructive, which is why it doesn't work.

The anger actually feels good (it's strange I know) for a day or two which is why I always choose it, and then it starts to build on itself. It's important to note the energy anger provides is much like the warmth alcohol provides: You feel better at first, but all your body is doing is using the burning through your short supply more quickly. When the energy the anger was feeding off of wears away I step back and feel even more depressed. That gets worse until I step back from myself again, and observe my depression as objectively as I can. Anger then ensues.

I'm sure by now you're starting to see this cycle. I'll cycle through this anywhere from 3 or 4 times to 15-20 times. Each time the depression grows due to the toll the anger takes on me, and the anger than grows in order to compensate for the depression. It begins to turn into a very delicate balancing act, working to keep my emotions in check, not over compensate, and maintain my cool around other people. Eventually situation begins to snow ball out of control and I have a complete breakdown which lasts from a day to a week. In this time I usually try to sleep through the entire day (and consequently stay up all night) to escape from myself. I'll also take showers two to three hours long. I do this because the shower is one of the only places where no one can see me, where no one looks at me. The shower is one of the only places that allow me to escape from my

I know this is going to happen, and it seems nothing short of a miracle is going to stop it. In preparing for battle it is important to know your enemy, but by that same token, knowing today of tomorrow's pain seems to do little more than ruin a perfectly good today.

They say make hay while the sun is shining. Well, the sun is shining, and I can't figure out how to unlock the door to get outside. This is what is causing me to lose my balance.

I'm really tired. Good night.

Monday, August 17, 2009

Chaos against routine

Yesterday morning I woke up in a house I'd never been in, in a city I rarely visited, knowing only that my car was parked near a street called "Dawson". The room was full of kids I didn't know whose faces were hanging over buckets and plastic bags, still asleep. It looked like they'd had a crazier night than I had. I wandered into the kitchen, drank a glass of water, and then tip-toed out of the house where I walked around the city for just under an hour searching for my car.

I realized something while I was searching: I like this. I like not knowing. I like change. I like a challenge. I remember in high school, me and a friend would put ourselves in precarious predicaments for the sole purpose of forcing ourselves to figure out a way to get out of them.

I've also noticed lately I enjoy movies that involve society breaking down. When the structure of society crumbles and everyone is left to their own devices, I'm fascinated. In that situation, when classes disappear, money counts for nothing, status becomes irrelevant, it's as if someone hit the reset button on society. Everything starts over, and everyone is in the same boat.

Super-ordinate goals, besides being one of the most effective methods for creating unity amongst strangers, provide individuals with something to work towards, something to take their minds off of themselves which is important considering persons who can't stop thinking about themselves are more likely to slip into debilitating states of depression. Humans are designed for adventure and competition. Anyone that looks deep inside themselves will realize they have an adventurous side. I don't think we are meant to reach a state of equilibrium and complete comfort. It's as if we are meant to spend our lives moving towards something, but we never actually get there until we die.

On a side note, I'm worried I may be heading for a crash sometime in the near future. My life has been in a state of emotional numbness for awhile now, and I'm starting to see the numbness cracking at the seems. Hopefully some big change can come along and help me avoid this crash, but it's unlikely. The change never comes. Even now all hope is gone, and what semblance of motivation and ambition I had is slowly waning. Where I felt nothing before, I now feel the lack of hope inside. I feel like a vacuous hole, and vacuums are always filled by something. I'm sorry

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Seeing out, Seeing in

Perspective is an interesting thing. Suppose a friend of mine and I were struggling from two very similar problems, each dressed up in different scenarios, making the similarities less than transparent. Each problem can be solved with a similar solution, as the problems themselves are similar. My friend asks me for advice with the problem. As I listen, and think about my friend's problem, a solution will easily pop into my head. I will offer my sound advice, my friend will thank me, take my advice, and be happy with the way the situation worked out. So what do I do? I sit down and continue grinding my mental gears, completely unable to come up with a solution to my problem.

I just gave my friend the solution to my problem, but I can't accept it. I know of a solution that worked, but I still can't bring myself to take my own advice. I just can't see the connection between what I'm going through and what they are experiencing.

It's so easy to objectively see what other people are going through, and provide reasonable and sound advice. When we are standing on the outside looking in, it's as we can see the whole situation at once without any emotional attachments or feelings, and it seems it becomes much easier to provide an objective, logical solution. An acquaintance of mine, a girl, was in a poor relationship. Her boyfriend was too attached, emotionally abusive, and insecure. I knew she needed to end the relationship, and I said this to her. Another acquaintance of mine, a guy, was in a poor relationship. He knew he couldn't provide the love and support he needed to provide in order to treat his girlfriend the way she deserved to be treated. I politely advised him to end the relationship. Both friends admitted months after the fact that I had given them good advice. I was in a poor relationship. I was emotionally detached and dead inside (this was back when things started going down hill about six years ago or so). I had no idea what to do.

It's easy to objectively see other people's problems coming from an outside perspective. When the problems are our own, when we are on the inside looking out, suddenly the answers are not so clear, the objectivity disappears, and what was a situation we should know how to deal with now becomes a murky conundrum filled with variables and gray areas where there is no clear solution. What you feel and what you know aren't always the same (in my case they are almost never the same).

Someone doesn't necessarily have to be "smarter" than you to give you good advice on how to handle situations in your own life. Many times all it takes is a different perspective. Considering that, what's more is sometimes it helps just to have someone tell us what to do, even if we already knew exactly what we needed to do in the first place.

What's ironic is I'm terrible at asking for advice; I'm too independent, too proud, and unwilling to divulge my problems. This almost feels like a letter to me advising myself on how I need to be willing to ask others for help sometimes. It does not feel like anyone can help me, yet when the tables are turned I know I can help others - and I know I'm not brilliant, I'm just a different perspective.

Friday, August 7, 2009


It's frustrating; perhaps one of the most loathsome questions someone can ask me (and in my opinion ask anybody) is, "What's with you?". If it's a sunny day, and I just want to run around outside, if I have energy and I'm in a half decent mood (a fairly uncommon event) and it's showing, one simple way to ensure I stop feeling good is to ask me, "What's with you?". For me, it is as if the person asked me, "Why are you acting weird? Why don't you just go back to being yourself?"

At that point, I won't lose the energy, but I will lose the sense of freedom I had just been experiencing, and that combination only leaves room for active anger.

The problem here is it feels like no one wants you to be anything except the person they believe you to be; if you are not matching the profile they have constructed of you in their minds, there's a problem, and that is a problem. I understand people being upset with a man who is known for being gentle and calm then suddenly demonstrates violent behavior. I have no qualms with that. The problem is how difficult this pigeonholing effect makes it to change your behavior for the better.

I don't like the person I am. Every day I want to be someone else. Now, even though I make attempts to be something different, something better, playing 21 questions every time I do something out of character does not help. The fact that the people grilling me have no idea who I am does not make the situation any better. The fact of the matter is, I am not the person they've built me up to be, however their is a facade I've found easy to maintain. Neither the person I am, nor the person I pretend to be is someone I want to be. Many actors mix part of their own person in with the character they play; I do this as well, hence me pretending to be someone I don't want to be.

I'm getting off track; the point is this: let people do what they want to do and be who they want to be. Questioning the motives behind good behavior hardly facilitates positive change. If anything, the questions corrupt it. When someone starts applying themselves at school or at work, don't ask them, "since when were you so ambitious?" If you see someone start volunteering at a soup kitchen, don't ask them, "since when did you care about other people?" They don't need to be reminded they are changing, they already know. It's not unreasonable to be self-conscious about it. I feel in many situations, if the person changing were to respond honestly, he or she would say something along the lines of, "I don't like the person I am, and I'm trying to change it." That's not a message everyone wants to preach to the world.

As for being on the receiving end, now I usually just respond with a quizzical look and tell the person, "This is just what I want to do. What's it to you anyways?" At this point they'll usually get slightly offended, believing me to be disproportionately mad at their seemingly innocent inquiry, and walk away. Granted I may be angrier than the situation justifies, but I really do hate that question and the discouraging, reproving society it represents.

PS: I'm not saying people actively discourage each other from change, but we hardly promote it as much as we ought to.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Act I, Scene III

"Life's a stage." I feel I live that phrase. My life is an act, a show. I try so hard not to care what people think of me, yet I live my life ensuring they don't know the real me. My performance is good, though it is not perfect. Those closest too me know there's something different about me, but no one is able to put their finger on it. Most people are unaware of my issues. I'm able to cover them up. Even my social ineptitude I'm able to cover up by feigning a strong presence, confidence, and interest in others. Few people, if any, would look at my interactions with people and say I lack social skills though much of what I do has been researched, studied, and is based on imitating behavior I see in others. None of it is real.

Now, looking at the true me, the facts become clear. I have no true friends, only social acquaintances, and they are all "group based". When I spend time with people, it is only within a group which I have managed to attach myself to, however there exist no personal connections within any of these social groups. I have been single since I was a freshman in high school (before I began to lose my sense of self). Place me in a room full of people and I will sit silently until it becomes absolutely necessary to talk with someone, and then on the other side of the coin, force me to spend time with someone, even a "friend" (as opposed to an enemy), hours on end for months on end, and I will still feel no personal bond or connection between us. Quite simply, I am incapable of being true friends with anyone.

(My phone just rang... it was a wrong number)

I'm blaming it on my inability to be a genuine person, and of course the paradox is if I was truly genuine I would not even be able to retain acquaintances. I've been nick named the "Lone Wolf" by those who know me because they see I don't keep anyone's company. They see I will sit in a room, alone, for hours and they interpret that as me not needing company, because they believe if I wanted company, I would make company; someone with my self-confidence and sense of humor has no problem talking to people and making friends, right? The truth is I sit in my room alone because I don't know what else to do, talking to people is a chore, and I don't even know what it feels like anymore to be someone's "friend".

I used to have lots of friends, real friends, people who's company I actually enjoyed; I didn't just spend time with them to keep up appearances. Then I changed and I stopped making friends, I forgot how, and the friends I had began slowly drifting away.

The tragedy isn't that I "have no friends". No one would say that. The tragedy is that at some point I lost a big part of me that made me human. Now I'm trying to figure out what it was, and I'm trying to figure out how to get it back. Until then however, it's back to the act.