songs about me

So I’m still not feeling fulfilled.

I have a great life. No need to work. No deadlines. No stress. But I still don’t feel like I actually can be bothered breathing.

That isn’t anyone’s fault. I’m very happy at a lot of things in my life. Great relationships with people, great deal of success already with my projects.

I’ve taken to making jewellery and that is going really well.

I can now juggle. I can make my funky art. I can write (i’m really producing some amazing work). I can make clothes. Upholster chairs. Sail the family boat. Travel when i like.

I have a 32inch hd tv in my room. Surround sound. Dvd player. Laptop. Camera. Camcorder. Guitar. Typewriter. Sewing Machine. Mountains of books and dvds. I have material things to make one tear your own material to pieces in lamentation.

I’ve taken up photography and that is going really really well – as i’ve been offered a fair few opportunities of late to take photos of all sorts of events etc.

Just to touch on writing again. I’ve written the most exciting pieces of fiction ever recently!

I’ve not gotten drunk in weeks and weeks and weeks. So i know i’m not an alcoholic. I’m just a bit of twat when it comes to knowing my limit. So i learnt that lesson! lol – (On the flip side, due to not drinking i’ve picked up on inherent social anxiety, so i think that is why i drank a lot – to lubricate the old personality and push away the fact i get scared in big groups. I draw a lot of energy from people, but crowds really upset me and get me timid. Hence many times leaving parties and street festivals and declining to go on trips off to outdoor festivals too..  when i then lied and came up with some lame excuse. Least now i’m honest enough to admit i’m just a pussy when it comes to large groups.)

But it all amounts to a hill of beans when even on these bloody pills I still can’t seem the conjure up a will to live.

I had a song written about me a while back and the idea of it was – that Much came “to realise that it is life that you (I) despise.“

I’m sure that isn’t true, as much as it is too strong a thing for me to feel toward life. I’m not crying out for help, nor even really making much of an assertion past the simple honest truth.

I don’t care.

I really couldn’t care less.

With that is freedom and oblivion – but i really have no opinion on the matter of life and its vice and virtue.

The last relationship fell on a sword of my uncaring. I’d given up hiding behind a mask made of smiles. Showed a little too much of what it means to live near me. That there is very little that can stir up a case of genuine joy.

Maybe pills are making me apathetic and i’m looking back on life through these eyes, but i think i’ve pretty much always had this outlook.

She goes on to ask why I “must be so blue.” – It used to be up on last.fm, but it has been taken off now – but it is still a damn good song, despite the personal nature of it.

I really don’t try to be. I’m the life and soul. I’m happy and moving like a blur and i still can’t seem to shake this apathy.

Perhaps it is to give me a little wall between my mind and the worry of death? I used to worry about that a lot as a kid. Death became a sort of monster to me, stalking the land, killing indiscriminately, no proof of hereafter, of continuation. I feared a lack of a thereafter more than anything else. Here i am, several years later – not caring.

Perhaps i got bored of the question.

Unsolved questions will drive you mad – unless you temper it with some disinterest.

I’m quite able to hold myself out of the top floor window in my house and not fear the fall. Is that scary? Should i have vertigo to prove i mean to continue?

I’m not sure. I just get the sense that all these wonderful opportunities and skills and talents etc… are just wasted on me. I’m too ambivalent about them all.

Or maybe that isn’t true, maybe what i mean to say is that i can’t hold on to the joy of it for long? I have short bursts of intense happiness and then bam, nothing.

I don’t know, fuck it. At the end of the day it isn’t important. Except i do ache for a little purpose. I’m considering making up a god and just following that blindly. I’ve already taken up Buddhist meditation. That is too much the absence of God, but it meets with the fact i don’t care a stitch for all this junk in my room.

p.s. I’m still pretty lonely and need to meet more people to keep me entertained and motivated.

Filed under: Bath, Depression, Drinking, Existence, Friends, Future, Girls, Happy, Lonely, Travel, Women, Youth, about me, anxiety, childhood, cracks, hopes, much, prose, the novel, undervalued, vacuum, work, writing, writing the novel

total cathartic ramble

Tonight has been one of those nights that acts like a tourist ride around the inside of your mind.

I’ve listened to old songs, drank more, wrote more, drank more, listened to songs performed by a certain someone, drank more – I’m still not drunk!

I can’t get drunk anymore. Something, even after a bottle, prevents my mind from degrading to that state.

I’m two steps back, or so it seems. Except I’m not.

I’m miles ahead of myself generally. I’m only looking behind me and that is a perspective that is ‘hard’ to handle, but not impossible.

I’m looking at old pictures of a happier time. I’ve made my sorry letters and sent them to all the people I am really and truly sorry for hurting. The latest people I have hurt will have to wait until remorse hits me for them. It is tough to admit, but I’m really not all that repentant for the recent events in my life as they have all been wonderful. Or so I feel. I’ve gained a lot from them.

Pointless, I’m existing – breathing etc…

I’m trying to believe that, that is all I need to do – to just exist is enough of an accomplishment. It is.

I’m trying to figure out how past people truly felt – if there was any sincerity there. I’m trying to free myself for caring if they loved me like they said, but I will always be a creature who needs that form of affirmation.

I want to be adored, only right now am I learning that part of that is learning to adore yourself. Understanding that you have a lot to offer these people. Truthful qualities. So there is no need to mislead people into liking you anymore.

I’m a really nice guy, when I get rid of my defenses. When I pull down my ego and just relax I’m actually really sweet and tactile and loving to everyone.

The previous me was a heartless prick because he thought that was the way to stay alive. What I’ve learnt is that is the surest way to ensure your own end. Alone.

Instead, I’m drinking, laughing, joking, kissing, hugging, chatting and engaging with people that seem to see that I’m now just a bundle of honesty.

Sure that backfires, from time to time, you’ll tell someone something they don’t want to hear – but that is all down to the way they ask the question. They are responsible for their own feelings. As long as I keep being truthful, caring, happy. As long as I keep being me. I can ensure that I’m doing the best I can with the things I’ve been given.

Drink isn’t an issue, not if I’m honest. I just have to be truthful enough to admit when I am sad and feel like I need it. If I can say ‘you know what, I’m sad for no good reason’ and then make a cup of tea – then go me!

I’m listening to old songs, I’m not drinking, I’m writing, not drinking, listening to songs performed by a certain someone, adoring them for what they are – expression, poetry, music to sing along to – still not drinking.

I’m not after a medal, just after a little understanding. Just fancy shooting out an appology to all the people who might find this.

I’m sorry I was the old me for so long. I’ve changed. I’m missing elements I never respected or paid much attention to. I’m not coming back, I’m moving forward.

Filed under: Bath, Cup, Depression, Friends, Happy, about me, anxiety, much, music

the ended frenzy…

So script frenzy is over with and I haven’t updated for a while because of that and other reasons.

Many thing have been preying on my mind lately. Mental health being the main one, closely followed by the natural course of life and all things in its wake.

Regardless, much has happened.

Script isn’t ‘finished’ finished – just 100 pages done and the whole idea is ripe in my mind. So I just need to write it out and round it off.

It concerns the exploits of Trip Ryder as he makes his way from trouble and into a new day. He comes out of a relationship with Calista Melia and discovers the more pleasing example of Gravity Hertz. Things are weighed up and Gravity wins out against Volvo Wilco’s argument that Trip should just distract his life away with misogynistic meandering.

After the win of Gravity, Calista returns to win back the only boy she’s been unable to understand. With enigma being the draw, Trip knows he has to play her at that game and dismisses her using her own words – so she can’t read anything more from things.

And that is that, the story in its infancy was nothing like the present day. We’ve more quick wit than a barrel of 20th Century Fox writing monkeys. We’ve got more aching than a dodgy tooth could muster. All encased within the guise of a love story long estranged from the normal formula. Where even mistakes are the order of the day, to lay bare the next step he must take.

The main aim is production.

Tonight – or rather in a few hours – begins the after party of script frenzy. I’m not drinking. Again. I wonder how they will stand the sober me. Things will be okay. Staying out, parents are worried, but standing at ease.

More to follow shortly.

Filed under: Coffee, Competition, Day-to-day, Depression, Drinking, Existence, Friends, Girls, Happy, Home, Love, Women, about me, anxiety, connection, hopes, much, nights out, writing

some people never learn lessons, other lessons aren’t worth learning…

I’ve learnt lesson in life recently. Bluebird, Robin and AIG have all given me a lot of advice. That I can’t beat myself up for being me and that I just have to get over myself and get on with things. I can’t make things better for the people in my past, I just have to move forward and stop lying and cheating people out of knowing me. Also, there is nothing wrong with getting over love by being a young man and getting solace from women. In fact, AIG gave me a song by Nada Surf recently that helped a lot. It has some great great advice in it.

Three important rules for breaking up

Don’t put off breaking up when you know you want to

Prolonging the situation only makes it worse

Tell him honestly, simply, kindly, but firmly

Don’t make a big production

Don’t make up an elaborate story

This will help you avoid a big tear jerking scene

If you wanna date other people say so

Be prepared for the boy to feel hurt and rejected

Of course the same goes for a flip of gender. I failed badly when my last relationship ended, instead of getting smart and getting it over and done with back in October, I struggled on getting more and more unhappy. More and more annoyed with her for not being lovable enough. Which is stupid because it really was my failing not Her’s.

I kept up the pretense of love so that I didn’t lose a friend. But, in the end, she didn’t want to help me and wasn’t that good a friend. She didn’t stay in contact, she was too self-involved, which doesn’t help when I am too. We always were very similar – she wont talk to people if they don’t make the effort to talk to her often and neither do I – I just give up on them.

So hopefully she’ll understand that and not hate me. Maybe she will understand that being apart is better this way because we wont annoy each other. I can get on with my fun and not have her all upset that I’m not getting ‘better’ by her standards. I’ve got a lot of respect for the kid, I’m more angry at myself for not having balls to be a real man about things. For confusing myself into a mess. I wont make that mistake again.

Throughout the relationship I just couldn’t shake the feeling that we might grow to understand each other better with time. Not annoy each other quite so much. Even tried to make her see how I thought, the process, so she could understand. Didn’t work. I hoped that she might mean a lot to me one day… but I didn’t ever let myself ‘fall in love’ her. Being too scared of getting hurt. What you don’t realize is that you hurt yourself anyway, because no one is close enough to lift you up when you are sad.

I prolonged things, I made a big song and dance number and I told elaborate stories – I lied and cheated and I’m sorry I did, because it made me feel rotten at the end. I wasted time when what I could have done is ended it long ago and maybe salvaged something from it. We could have been friends and I could have stayed in Bath. I have no real regrets, as if I did then I would be disrespecting those new connections I have made. Instead I have come to terms with it and moved on.

So this time I’m just rolling with that side of me. That I have a problem letting people get close, I put up barriers and now I wont.

I know that I can’t feel all-loving at the moment… I can have great respect for people, treat them well, care for them – but romantic love is beyond me, for the moment.

AIG has said that I shouldn’t betray myself the opportunity to find someone wonderful by shutting myself away and pining – instead I should dress up smart, get out there and take a stab at finding someone to love.

So that is what I’m doing. Not setting out to hurt, but not sparing people at the expense of my own happiness either.

Filed under: Drinking, Existence, Food, Friends, Girls, Home, Love, Reality, Sex, Strangers, Women, about me, accusation, much, news, nights out, other people's lives

coming out of the cocoon

I got an email from Laura today. I got another one too, but i’ll post about it later.

It amounted to a ‘what is your problem?’ email – asking me what I’m doing.

Long and short is I can’t be fussed with all of this back and forth crap. That I would get an email asking how things are, then send a reply within a day and wait another week for another reply back. If it really was of interest, my health and life’s well-being – then pull your finger out.

On parting she and I had said that we’d be friends and my god is it just a fucking pain in the ass! There is no reason for it, why would I want to keep up with her life only to give her an excuse to comment on mine. So I cut her loose a week or so back and she has only just now, a week later, caught up to the fact. I didn’t email her and tell her anything bad, or good, or explain or anything when I did it – just did it – and rather than think.. ‘Fuck, wonder if he is ok’. She gives it over a week and then doesn’t even decide to flesh it out with more than a few sentences.

To put things in perspective – I didn’t delete facebook solely because of Laura – but it was a major factor. I ignored her email because it was basically ‘I’m living in Bath after all, with my new boyfriend… yay for me.’ There is little one can say about that, that wouldn’t be hideously false sentiment.

How do I explain this so that we are all on the same page.

She thinks I’m a serious screw-up because I was pretty screwed-up at the end of the relationship – so now I guess she thinks that I’m the same weeping mess that I was. Or I’m now just bottling things up.

Instead, I don’t feel the need to waste my energy making her feel better about herself. She’s off with a guy, she’s having fun… so why can’t she leave me be? Because I’m having more fun than she is – end of story.

I think that she wants me to break down again, tell her that I want to go back to how things were three months ago. Boo Hoo Hoo.

No, I am having a great time now. I’ve gotten over a lot of shit.

All this thinking is just made me muddled.

Bath just upsets me – that I wasted so long there. In these two months I’ve achieved more than in the past 2 years. Read more, written better, connected with more like-minded people, had better sex than ever before, gotten to head off to random parties etc…

It’s like the me before Laura has just come out of the cocoon again. Unleashed upon the world and making no apologies.

Writing is going wonderfully, saving to go traveling, no outgoings anymore, debt evaporating, new friends, lots of sex, lots of drink… wondrous…

However this afternoon I was struck by a sad feeling. It came about because all this thinking took me to the point on my existence and I still don’t have one. But never-mind. I’m just going to get on with things.

Filed under: Girls, Sad, Sex, Women, much

The most heartless man to ever own a pulse…

Consider the weekend dust being bitten. And so, another one shows her lack of understanding. Another deems me the villain in my own story.

I had a good weekend and then the whole thing is destroyed when the girl gets all emotional. Bloody women. Oh well.

Seriously these pills, my god, these pills make everything ok. I can think about things, but it is like there is a filter that is removing the emotional significance of it all. Right now I should be deeply hurt that a woman I shared a lot of myself with determines to hurt me by calling me a ‘user’. I mean, that’s the catch-phrase of the moment. Ex-friends, Ex-lovers… ex-cetera… all of them calling me a ‘monster’. And what for, I hear you cry?

For telling the god-damned unabashed truth.

For saying, ‘you know what, this isn’t working.’ Or ‘I never loved you, so I’m going to start hitting the field.’ Or ‘I’m going to start drinking again, because you made me out of be an alcoholic when really I was just unhappy.’

All these wonderfully monstrous confessions. How I can say… ‘i enjoy sex.’ And that is read as, ‘i used you for sex.’

The thing I’m learning is that people feel too much, too little and too late in the reverse order. They don’t realize their own objectives. This latest one took a last ditch effort to change me into a man who could love her. FAIL. It’s temporarily beyond me.

The only thing that the text gave me… because I know you’ll read this… is a distinct dislike for you. You learnt me well enough to say something hurtful to me… you don’t care for me if you treat me like this, so I’m not going to waste my time on you. Goodbye. Great life.

Onwards and outwards. Another thing that the weekend has afforded me is a closure on my sexual-escapades… or for now, anyhow… I’m tired out at the thought of randomly shagging my way around Liverpool… so now my objective is to stick it out as single and just do some fun dating. No sex, just relax, take things slowly and stop saying no to feelings.

I think slowly is the key. If I keep things nice and arm’s length for the time being then it will at least stir me into the right type of thinking, without hurting anyone in the process.

Except god knows every woman I have ever been out with has always fallen for me inside a week and is confessing their love not long after. Its a symptom of being too irresistible. Don’t protest… I joke, I jest, I play the fool.

Today I started reading Miller again to perk up what little chauvinistic skill remained intact. I read about his life and the ‘rosy crucifixion’ portion of his existence – where he moved away from everything he knew to begin again. Much like myself. Actually there is quite a lot of parallels to see when it comes to his prose. Certainly his life speaks a direct epiphany.

Regardless this is just one more reason I should be grateful for being free. At least I haven’t gotten myself in too deep. Gotten used to loving anyone or anything like that. That would be tragic, the old Jensen might well have taken to some model he managed to discuss marxism with. Or taken the number from a girl only to call her the wrong name down the phone. Or similarly fallen into the trap of some honey with a mind of mush and a great body, one that he couldn’t help but wish to be with because of their ‘connection’ and then, not long later, finds she’s dating another guy too. Spreading the odds. As well as her legs.

I’ve done nothing I can really be upset about. Instead I’ve held it together pretty well and… if I don’t have any more undue surprises… I think I’ll be well on the way to a happy day with some beaming broad one day soon.

See, the more time that passes without me needing to apologize, the less I have to be sorry for.

No man in a sorry-state can be happy, nor can he attract someone to share an evening with… in any true format of proclivity.

Filed under: Drinking, Existence, Friends, Future, Girls, Happy, Home, Lonely, Love, Lucy, Melissa, Nikki, Sad, Sarah, Sex, Steve, Strangers, about me, accusation, hopes, lissa, much, solitary , heartless, jen jen, pulse, sorry

old flames

So back after my VERY VERY bad Easter Weekend…

I was talking to a friend yesterday about the limitations one has to accept when it comes to writing characters. It isn’t that you can’t flesh them out, make them believable… etc… but rather that there will always be a face missing, some small part that wont be expressed because it would take more than a thousand novels to encompass the human being. We’re multi-faceted in the extreme.

I’ve come to the same conclusion when it comes to blogging – that there are people who know me (or think they do), and people who don’t, that will read this blog and think that it a condensed version of me. Somehow the subject matter, or the manner in which I present things, justifies their views. Puts context to their compartmental vision of me.

This carpel-tunnel world of blogging, invariably then, has its risks. What if a woman comes on here in a year’s time? What if I like said woman and she deems my outpourings to be abhorrent and vile and therefore concludes that I am unworthy of her… all these ‘what if’s will be the death of me, but lets just say that I’m right. Do I care? Yes. Can I do anything? No.

Bring it on home that whole idea of people liking me for me – if said woman came here and didn’t understand my motivations then I’ll be damned if she’s right for me – just like the last.

So this idea of me coming across as something short of myself got me thinking about everything really. As much as I’ve put things to bed.. So to speak.. I do have to say that certain elements of my character are coming together to show me as anything but an honest, caring and kind man. Not least to everyone, but mostly to myself. See, I’m such a self-deceiving creature. But you knew that.

Anyway – so getting on with life… this whole breaking away from the loss of Bath and life down there. Its taken me off facebook and taken away my one mode of constant communication with the world back there behind me. It’s a good thing too, because the old lovers were already starting to feel brazen! Old flames leaving suggestive messages on my wall, the odd filthy reply to an unassuming statement. Laura might just have put two and two together to work out when and where and with whom. So I’m glad that is all behind me. Now I can move on to new pastures with a clean slate. Chalking line after line on that board above me. Remembering.

I intend to start my education of myself by starting with history. I’ve opened up various memories and I’m taking a good look at what makes me. I have nostalgia abound. Zounds man, I might even have unleashed a realization or two.

I know that what I had in Bath was a best friend and various distractions. Not to play them down, we got closer toward the end (hence the sadness at parting) but since then I’ve more than replaced them and feel in a better place than I ever did. Lying in the sun this morning saw that I understood what was important. It was the second moment I’ve truly felt content in the here and now of here.

The funny thing is that the people I have met in the last 2 months have been better friends to me than anyone else I have ever met. They know me better too. I could have one person here in Liverpool take on a team of every person I have known for the past 4 years in Bath and they’d win a quiz on me hands down. (Save for Dom of course, who remains the only man I’ve ever confided truth in.) I’ve opened my heart to some of the loveliest people imaginable and all they’ve done is pay in kind. So I have to admit, scary as it sounds, I was wrong. (Gosh, didn’t that make you tingle inside??) I was wrong to hate my home so much. Wronger still, to think that the world ended when my little false life in Bath hit the fan.

But more, much more than this… I feel like I’ve gotten better. I’m not second guessing the old relationships like I used to. I used to lie in bed with Laura beside me and listen to songs that took me back to other women I’d known. Back to Jenny the Stalker and my inability to love her. Back to Patty and my inability to love her. Back to every woman I’d ever known and my inability to love them. But always the same feeling of regret and the need to retrace those steps. The feeling that there is a girl beside me that is beautiful, but I feel more for these old flames than I do for her. This is what brought me to wanting to leave her back in October, what had me almost there so many times. Before the idea of moving to Cardiff gave me the stupid idea that a change of scene might bring a change of heart.

I’ve known a lot of really beautiful women in my life and I treated them all, at the time, as though they were a piece in my puzzle – rather than a light to work under. They were short-term soul-mates, some of whom became habits that I stuck with until it became too difficult to keep going. One or two I got with, out of a deluded idea that I could be happy with them in time… given time I was soon proven wrong.

And that’s it for this blog post… more to follow, beg and borrow. I mean… tomorrow…

Filed under: Dom, Existence, Friends, Girls, Jenny, Love, Sex, Women, Youth, about me, hopes, much, novel, other people's lives, writing

the me of now

“Mental health problems do not affect three or four out of every five persons but one out of one.”

Dr. William Menninger

Before I sign off for a very bad good friday and easter weekend in Liverpool I should point out that I’ve been very, very happy recently. I’ve been more consistently happy than I am used to and it is a wonderful thing.

I have started and progressed well with scriptfrenzy, lots of pages down, kept my antics to a reasonable level and determined what I will do with my life for the next year.

In short – I’m back to the old me – sorry to everybody that thought I’d be changed irreparably by what has happened – sorry.

I went out last weekend and ended up getting massively drunk on scotch after finding my way to a philosophy student’s party, getting lost in the rain, finding my way back again and the rest is censored. The morning I left a little note saying “Thanks guys, you’re all magic.” That’s how I feel about what is going on right now… pure magic – everyone is enjoying me being me!

I’m just Jensen, Cup, Me… I drink, I laugh, I cry, I’m a whole person and if you don’t like it, then you don’t like me – like a new friend says all the time (though not at me) “Don’t bother me!” [said in Colombian accent].

See, the thing I’ve learned from another new friend, Sarah, is that you are you as you are… tongue tied… no, I mean – you are fractured, incomplete, emotional, prone to making mistakes..etc… but that is ‘you’. Its wonderful.

Its not an excuse to fail, but it is truly a wonderful experience to come to terms with your limits.

I’ve found out that my limits are tested when I run around with masks on.

Lots of people, even those I loved most, back in Bath knew me as this creature with a thousand faces, I put on all these masks so that I could fit with one group or another.. So that I could pretend I was happy when I wasn’t.. So I could get my own way (because I was selfish)… I just tried so hard to fit in that I stuck out like a sore thumb by the end of it.. With all my weeping… no wonder there are so few that will stay in touch, they’re not used to my sadness – and because I never showed it, it took over and became much stronger than I could endure.

I only showed the true me to two people really, in all the time I was there, Jenny the Stalker (who loved me for me, but I think a little too maddeningly) and Nicola (who looked after me on the day I was taken home from Bath). Even Laura never really saw the me behind the me that I showed her – I didn’t tell her too much about my sadness, because I didn’t understand it myself… so all I said was ‘i’m sick’ but didn’t do anything about it – knowing all too well that I’d be back to pretending next week, when I have more strength… and on and on the cycle went.

The medication is wonderful and has made me not think or worry about anything back in Bath – that is the sweetest relief I have ever known – right now I’d be thinking ‘god, my ex is with someone’ or ‘my friends aren’t my friends anymore’ or ‘my life has been stolen’ and get all worked up – but really… I can see the good so much more clearly.

So I got back to Liverpool and I had but one aim.. To make friends and make myself known only as myself.. To be my honest, open, frank and energetic sense… and you know… it paid off MASSIVELY!!!

I now know a group that I can be open with, honest with and not feel judged, because – at the end of the day – I’m not that fucked up, I’m quite a normal kid, just full of insecurity and sadness from time to time. So what if I feel down one day, so do they, so does everyone. And I know that I’ve thought this a million times before… and I don’t want it to seem like I think I’ve found a cure for all this sadness that engulfs me from time to time – but it just smacks of the right kind of remedy for me. The me of now.

Everything I have heard from Bath has been about healing and returning, but really… I’d hate to go back to that world.. It was an awful game of trying to be someone that I’m not, every single fucking day! Here I have relaxed, let down the veil, embraced the true meaning of honesty.

That you don’t hurt nearly as many people being yourself, as you hurt when you pretend you are someone you are not.

(much more to say… but i have run out of time…)

Filed under: Existence, Family, Friends, Girls, Jenny, Women, about me, anxiety, hopes, much

backwards is sometimes forward in disguise

So ‘near’ is now far behind

and ‘far’ is now cheek-to-cheek with me.

What have I learnt?

Much more than just three things, I can assure you.

My last blog, about the lessons I’d learned from reading my old posts back to myself, was rather depressing. I’ve been reading more, with different contact lenses in.

I’ve learnt the same lesson I’ve just been emailed about by a new friend. I learnt it well enough, but never admitted it to myself.

That we are alone.

That, even though we feel it deeply, we shouldn’t search for answers in other people.

It’s the worst lesson I’ve ever had to learn. The most heartbreaking, because I always thought I’d find a little something somewhere. It’s also one of those lessons I never really want to accept.

I’ve done a little too-much ‘looking for people like me’ in my time. Too much desperate searching. Too much leg-spliting for atomic secrets. Though I can’t help it.

On a less explicit note, but the same field of battle… there is a little bit more honesty coming through.

That I was in a relationship with someone who was a friend. Someone I loved as a friend. Someone I now mourn as a lost friend.

In union with someone who never understood me. A person that kept me comfortable enough, but who couldn’t know me well enough to keep up with me. Who lost sight of what she liked about me – my boundless energy. Someone who gave up on me being happy. Someone who prompted me to give up on myself.

I’d had a week (before we parted) of intense sadness and that drove me to drink. As my sadness has done many times before. I don’t have a drink problem – drink is a solution. Drink is only a symptom of the underlying problem. It is something I use when I am very, very unhappy – every other occasion it is social and bubbling. So why wasn’t that hint enough?

You live with someone and they don’t seem to notice (care) that you are becoming increasingly distraught?

That’s what I mean – I’m not selling her short when I admit that she had no understanding of me as a person. Perhaps once she did/could sympathize – but as soon as it impacted upon her life I got relegated to a place behind compassion.

She’s off discovering someone else.

(Funny that I know her better than she knows herself.)

So now I’ve had to move miles away from a home that I adored, friends that I loved and a world that I’d uniquely shaped myself for. Stream-lined for the currents that swept me along.

She was beautiful, talented and funny, but she wasn’t right for me. What I am looking for is hidden away. I’m far too effected by my condition, held in the coils of my depression, to have any stupid ideas about relationships and sole-mates.

So I need to get back to being honest with myself. When I was with her I wasn’t myself. I couldn’t be nearly as joyful as I wanted, because she wasn’t joyful at the same time. She cut me short.

She expected me to be sad along with her. If I wasn’t then I was uncaring. I guess because I didn’t feel the same at the same time then I was the incompatible one.

She was selfish, but she’d always say I was. I would never disagree, because its why we ended things. We didn’t like each other, as much as we liked ourselves. Or maybe she’d really just had enough of caring for me? Or maybe we’d both just had enough? Maybe – the reason still isn’t clear to me. All I know is that we sat in bed and came to the same conclusion. Except – read my blog from all those months ago – I’d already made it long before.

So…

I’m not nearly as fucked-up as my ex would have people think. (Because its easier to have a crazy ex-boyfriend – than admit that I’m some sweet, but troubled, boy she gradually fell-out-of-love with)

I know full-well that when I’m sad I drink and there have been many, many times when I have been sad and haven’t touched a drop. It is my choice what I do. Sometimes we don’t need to save ourselves straight away. It is my decision if I drink myself stupid – it’s a juvenile thing to do, it’s denial, but it’s my choice.

It is also my choice who I see, when I see them, what I do with them… which is a novelty.

It’s my choice what I do with my life and that is the really daunting thing.

Because deep-down the thing that I’ve learned from my blogs is that I haven’t learned what I wanted to. I’ve learned other lessons, but not the one I really need right now.

I haven’t learned what I should be doing with my life!

That’s AGAIN another question I can only answer for myself.

Filed under: Lonely, Love, Sad, Sex, about me, hopes, much

a water-balloon meets a bee

So, knowing – as you do – that my girlfriend and I broke up on the 26th of last month. Well… where to from there?

I came home and took up the task of mending myself. I’ve something, which I suspect can best be described as manic depression, though i wont jump the gun too much until the fact is settled.

I was having a depressive episode about a week before my relationship collapsed. In fact, I think it was a major element that swung my ex-girlfriend’s mind in favor of separation.

20th of Jan and I’m flat-lining on one of the worst depressions in my most recent history and so I ask her to stay around for me (in the sense that she stick in the house to keep my spirits up) – she goes out, which is fine (i figure she’ll be back) – she’s gone for pretty much the entire week – under the banner of band rehearsals. Which I guess was just her way of saying ‘i’m not really feeling the whole caring thing right now!’.

I’m not saying that I’m that sick I need a carer, but I was pretty sick and I just needed someone to watch dumb movies with and eat junk to keep me high on sugar. The Great Distracto!

I’m a sad little muffin – such a pathetic creature – regardless I held it together like a water balloon meeting a bee for the first time.

I hit rock bottom and she had a talk with me – I figured there was no point fighting it (i was beyond the capacity to want to save myself or any part of my life) – so I let her go and GOD do I feel better for that.

I do. No word of a lie, its done me good. I’m certain that the feelings I had for her wasn’t real love – just a deep caring and I know that that will change shape shortly. It’ll go the way of so many past loves, there are stages that I wont go into detail about.

So a few calls later and I’m back in Liverpool (the Wirral to be exact, i have no scouse accent [in fact none at all]). I’m pretty even right now – level as a spirit, you could say. Or maybe not.

I still get these ups and downs that last maybe an hour tops – just little blips before I lose the thread of them and wander off to distract myself with something new and shiny.

For the most part the pills are working and I should be referred over to see someone more specialistic soon.

Until then, I’ve written quite a bit of stuff that I’m going to post up here. That line between genius and madness is pretty thin after all.

p.s. I ask ya, who wants normal anywho – I’m so much more fun nuts than i am on these bloody pills – *yawn!*

Filed under: Cup, Depression, Girls, Happy, Love, Reality, Sad, about me, anxiety, cracks, much, nightmare, solitary, work