Full of a Void

(Just as a post-post warning, this is basically a horribly long and silly rant of me attempting to analyze my warped psyche, so you might not want to read past this point. I also begin to use the word "you" meaning you the reader and you as in anyone other me. It doesn't really apply well to most of the people who read this, but it's there. It's kinda creepy actually. But anyway, a new Perse entry should be created sometime tomorrow, and if I have time possibly the "free-fall" blog which I need additional emails to, for those interested, and you all should be. We've also almost completed a full round at www.ruleofanarachy.blogspot.com which I think is rather exciting and entertaining. And without further adieu, here's me whining about myself once again hehe.)

Angst. Seems to fit my current state to a tee. It's interesting how one word can so sum up a situation and how you don't really realize how completely and utterly apt it is until you've experienced it. At any rate, I'm "angsty." I suppose the best way to describe it is yearning for something. But this isn't just any something, like a spoon or a cupcake. It's sort of an anonymous something, something that I don't know or think I can achieve. Thus a void is created inside me, but I don't mean like a hole in one's lung (Believe me, I've been there ;) ). It's like a blackhole, sucking every glimmer of life and joy inside of it. No amount of Thin Mints seem capable of appeasing it's malicious appetite. This "sucking" quality leads to a "depression." Of course, it's not as bad as I've had before. It's just particularly distressing.

So then I begin to search within the twisted mass of my soul to figure out what I want. My first thought is love. Not any obligational thing, but real, romantic, "Highest Teir of Emotion" Love. But that's not quite it. My mind goes through the almost memorized ritual of convincing me it's an evil little concept that is for others, but not for me (And unfortunately, I'm not going to "See her face and become a believer" for you Monkee's fans...).

My next guess is social activity. I actually did somewhat participate in a version of it last night, but it too is quickly shredded by my mind. See, for some reason I have a sort of aversion to "small-talk." If it's not a forced situation, I don't know how to "make conversation." I can't gossip, because I'm so unjudgmental of other people, it seems absolutely trivial to talk about them. I don't mind watching others do it, but "utter silence" from an individual with the potential to be quite boisterous and overbearing seems to just bring the entire situation "down." This social ineptness is only compounded by my contacts, which, suffice it to say (and to save you an even longer rant), thoroughly tax my brain to the point of exhaustion where I can barely think. I hope I can get used to them so they won't be so straining, but at the moment it's quite an effort to remain active and coherent.

So social activity is out. Love is out. Of course, there's the inexplicable "Reason." I want a reason. A reason to live, a reason to try, a reason to keep on going. But I thought I had that. I've made some nice plans for the future that I think I can tolerate and enjoy, and they're all perfectly feasible.

What else is there? Perhaps it's a desire to create some form of art. But I've no artistic talent. My writing just lacks a certain cohesive thread to pull it all together, so I have no firm, inner basis to build around. I can't really perform, except in crazy world domination schemes and an utterly random train of thought, but I'm under the impression that they're quite overbearing and I've yet to find anyone who will fully go along with them to the extent that I do.

Finally my last answer is some sort of action. Building, working, just something that is more than wasting time. But nothing really comes to me as enjoyable. I considered walking, but there's only so much time one can spend walking in circles alone. So then I thought of hiking, but it takes so long to get to the mountains and it's such a pain to do. I thought of inviting people and making an adventure of it, but a one day adventure to someplace in the Smokies would end up with us lost, cold, and alone and that's just on the trail back. I shudder to think at me trying to drive home from so far away.

Now I begin to think it's not a desire at all. It's anxiety and partial regret. Not the regret of things past, but the sort of regret in the present where you have a situation, you want to do something, but you don't and won't do it. This "situation" is life in general. I've so many things I could do, and at least a few people to do them with. But the anxiety and despair comes from the fact that I won't for long. I'll go off to college and leave this all behind. Perhaps not literally, but after high school, what's left? A new world of freedom and new people. I've gone through the process of leaving old friends behind and finding new ones (Although I still don't quite know how to define "friend"). I think I'm afraid of being utterly alone. Not literally alone, but a sort of semi-hermit for the rest of my life. Just me. And I suppose my problem is that I'm just not selfish enough. I don't have a mind centered towards my "wants" and "needs." They all become factors of how much entertainment or how much of a burden they are to others. That's why I'm so hermitlike, because I don't want to inconvenience or make others uncomfortable, so I avoid them entirely.

In fact, I feel bad even posting this. Not only because it's a burden on you, the reader, but because it's long, boring, and you've probably experienced yourself and don't need to be reminded. It's that sort of mentality that holds me back. Now, you might think that it would lead me to be a nice, kind, considerate person. Well, to a certain extent I am. I do tease people and make sarcastic comments in their general direction, but I do it because I don't think they'll be hurt or upset about it. I make fun of myself much more often than others, for the most part.I'd like to fix every single person's problems or help them find a solution. I'd like to cure every pain, and every ill. I want to make people entertained, to be happy. But I don't know how. I see someone upset, mad, distressed, depressed, despairing, or unhappy in general and I want to reach out and tell them that there's no reason for it. Because I know it's the truth. Those emotions ought to be completely unnecessary. But I can't. I can't fix everything, that's just the way things are.

But it's even worse than "the way things are" for me. I won't even let myself touch other people, except in quite distant motions. Shaking hands perturbs me for crying out loud. And, ironically enough, it's for precisely the same reason that some physical contact is necessary. It's a matter of convenience, for me, because I know I won't be a burden on others. By keeping myself distant, I don't even have that oppurtunity. And thus I've grown to avoid human touch and dislike it when it happens for precisely that reason (a sort of evolving disdain, I suppose).

It's my main problem with "love" and all that rot too. The "other variable." The "other variable" meaning you. You, the other person. That strange entity that gets mad and upset, that hates, that is so different from me. I can't predict you. I can't understand you. So I avoid you. Online, I rarely IM people. I generally wait for them to come to me (with the exception of David, because I have to show funny comics to somebody heh). At school I have to be there so I don't feel responsible. But when I have an active choice, where my decisions and actions have a direct effect upon others, it drives me mad.

It's rather funny, and by funny I suppose I mean sadly ironic. I'm so considerate to the point of being horribly inconsiderate. I suppose I'm that way because I know there's no reason to get upset over anything, few things get to/bother/annoy me so I feel that I can make any sacrifices necessary because you other people are the ones who care. But that's confounded by the fact that I don't understand you. I can't guess how you'll react to things, so I avoid you and avoid making you uncomfortable. Of course, this is a generalization and the people reading this are probably the ones this least applies to. But it's still somewhat applicable.

So that's my situation. It's rather self-defeating/self-destructive but that's the way it seems to be working. It's created a state where I don't get enjoyment from doing things by myself. The only real way that I can even minutely enjoy myself is by escaping into television or a video game or a book. But it's still just that, an escape. An even greater illusion than reality might be. But I don't want to escape for the rest of my life. If that were the case, I may as well find a permanent escape. That just can't be the answer.

And soon I'll be cut off from all of you. Sure, there will still be AIM. But it won't be the same. I never have anything to talk about, and I don't IM you, so the burden would be fully on your shoulders. Oh, yes, there's that word again. "Burden." You thought this horrible self-analysis was over, eh? Unfortunately no. For you see, that might be the root of the entire issue. "Burdens." For instance, when I had my accident. I would have been perfectly fine and held no ill will if it had been some one else's fault. No worries about it at all. But I was solely responsible. It was what made the entire experience so terrible. The guilt. I destroyed my beloved Beretta. I cost us a few thousand dollars. I made the insurance go up. I wrecked our vacation. I inconvenienced all of you in coming out to the hospital. Me, myself, and I. I just can't stand being a burden. Being a leech, a drain, a tax, a tithe, a parasite, an annoyance, a monster, a downer, a glum, depressed, self-pitying fool. That seems to be the reason for all of the negative feelings that I experience. So the only way to get past it is to let you make the first move. If you ask me, I don't have to feel entirely "responsible" for me ruining your time. You're the one making the choice, you're the one who has to live with it.

And here's where it gets even crazier and more contradictions occur. I so abhor responsibility to others even though I don't believe in the thing. I don't believe in free will, for crying out loud, how can I even entertain the notion of responsibility? But I do. I suppose that's where the Puritan within me comes into conflict with my "beliefs." It's so deeply imbedded. (Of course, that's another irony. Puritans didn't believe in free-will either, but that's a different story). I have to act "good." Recently I've tried to stick up to the integrity of my "beliefs", but I still have the constant urge to do "good." Whenever I do something that annoys or makes others mad for many reasons, I almost immediately want to take it back and redo the entire thing. When I know I'm right, then it doesn't bother me. But that's a relatively rare occurence, so I very deeply regret things to the point of anguish.

This causes me to want almost constant positive reassurance. I have to know what people think, if they liked something, if they're upset, if they don't care. That's what's so great about laughter, because I can tell. When someone laughs, it's obvious they're amused. But that's so rare. Other times, I just don't know. And I can't ask, because it sounds needy and pushy, another inconvenience. To compensate for the not knowing, I have to be overly apologetic and self-defacing. I have to make you know I don't matter and that you shouldn't be annoyed by me. It's why I wrote that disclaimer at the top, so it'd be your fault if you read this and were sickened with pity or disgust or annoyance that someone would be so free or open or selfish or utterly wretched or whatever. You would be making the burden, not me.

It's enough to drive a guy mad. I seem to have a system of living and beliefs that defeats itself. It's a viscious cycle. And it's one I just don't know how to break. And thus my future, and that's what this is really all about, is so perilous. When you find it rather difficult to live for yourself, but you don't see living with anyone else as a feasible option, you're left at an impasse. Thus, I couldn't work in a job merely working for myself. I'd have to be a public servant. That leads me to be a teacher. But since I can't live for myself, my enjoyment of escaping to math (which might be discussed in another entry) can't sustain it alone. I have to be entertaining, have to help the students learn and enjoy my class. If I'm successful, I can survive. But if I fail, which seems terribly likely, what will be the point? I'd be a burden to even more people. And that's my fear. My already reserved quality, my eccentric nature, my utter foolishness. All seem to imply that this aspiration will end in failure. And thus I can't have hope to uplift me from depression. And without that hope, and without sharing the burden of existence on others, I become a burden to myself. Thus creating a void and this feeling of implosion. And we've come full circle, solved the problem, and now it's time to celebrate. Hoo-rah. You'd better clean up that confetti, because I'm sure not going to.

So that's about it. But maybe I give myself too much credit. Maybe this is the ideal situation and there's some other cause for me being and acting like I do. Certainly I've used "I" in so much of this, it seems self-centered. How could I be so self-centered if this were true? Ah well. And please don't look at this as reaching out for help or pity or compassion. I've just written all this because it seems to be the Truth and because I needed to really try to figure it out.

I suppose that's enough psycho-analysis for today. I'm sorry it took so long. Perhaps you saw some similarities of yourself in all this. Perhaps not. It helps me, I suppose, to find answers that seem to fit the equation, to fully get out in the open why I am what I am. Maybe I'm wrong. But at the moment, this seems to be me.

I'm a Puritan without God. A compassionate romantic who just wants to leave everything alone. An enthusiastic, overbearing, conservative, apathetic enigma. I know the basis of everything, and therefore I'm an utter fool. I'm a modest, helpful, arrogant, haughty jerk. I'm a fool. I'm sorry. In entirely too many ways.

(JEEZ! When I get on a tangent, I really beat the thing to death! Hopefully you didn't read all that. I really am sorry it was so long, rambling, and inane. It's also probably disjointed, since I realized quite a few things while I was writing and went back to add them in, so you'll have to excuse my lack of order. Not that I ever really have any. Hopefully I can stop doing these elaborate analyses of myself, the universe, and everything. Get back to the basics of warping my day to randomness. But not tonight. Until next time...)