I can't bear to look at this blankness of a page just staring back at me.  It's like that one Nietzsche quote.  That's better.  At least there's something there now.  The blankness terrifies me.  It's like it's sucking me in... oh no, wait!  *Wooooosh*




...





help!  Where am I? Get me outta here! Ugh... this was bound to happen sooner or later... 

I can't function with other people.  That makes me...
1) asocial
2) antisocial
3) autistic
Being around them makes me feel awkward, pressured, stressed out, afraid, and anxious.  There are very few exceptions to this.  At the same time, I am very lonely right now.  I hate mutually exclusive positive feedback loops, one malady leads to the other, yet the solution to each is the trigger of the other.  These drugs better start working soon.

Day 1 of medication.  The psychiatrist decided to give me Zoloft because it acts against both anxiety and depression.  I'd have to say, I was a little disappointed because there was no formal diagnosis, he didn't explore the possibility of bipolar disorder but just looked at the most readily apparent symptoms, which I guess are the most important to treat anyway.  We talked over the other findings that I got from the counselor's session and also decided that it would be a good idea to supplement with counseling because some of the origin of both of these conditions comes from something that drugs cannot treat: obsession, inability to let go, guilt, self-hatred, fear.  I took the first 25 mg dose directly after the appointment because I figure I don't have any time of my life to waste, especially if these things aren't supposed to kick in for about a week or so.  I'm still too afraid to go back to the class that I skipped in order to make this appointment.  I don't know what will happen if I do.  No one told me what will happen.  No one prepared me for this.  I'll try to start writing on here more to track my progress.

So far, not even a placebo effect.  Still just as frustrated, afraid, angered, and debilitated as before.  No change.  Only thing that helped me get through most of earlier today and yesterday was talking to my PI about her life story which must remain confidential so I cannot write about it on here.  All I can say is that it scared me out of the torture chamber of a microcosm that I had put myself in. 

Red Pyramid

I can barely focus enough to get a single sentence in, much less a paragraph, but I'm going to try.

I'm going to try to remember the conversation I had last night, which was something that was quite the epiphany of insight for one of my friends as to why I am so screwed up.  This friend was very confused as to why this failed relationship means so much more to me now than it did when we were still together when back then, she was the one who had to convince me not to break up with Kelly and not to give up on the relationship, etc.  Here is as best as I can describe why all of this is the case...

When Kelly and I were still together, I felt discontent that was accompanied by a sense of guilt.  The discontent was with her, whether it was over her looks or how we didn't have the things in common that I wish we had in common or how I got tired of some of her repeatetive mannerisms even if they were cute because I wanted a romance that was deep rather than something that at most times was just "cute" at best.  This all created a sense of guilt, which formed a positive feedback loop.  The more guilt I felt, the more discontent I became.  The more discontent I became, the more guilt I felt.  I felt guilty for even looking at or talking to other girls.  Whenever we tried swing-dancing, I would not let myself dance with anyone else but her lest I aggravate this loop.  After enough cycles, I gave up on ever really being content and just settled, as much as I could, because I would feel guilty for breaking up with her and trying to find someone else, because I didn't think my reasons were ever good enough to warrant breaking up.  This caused me to feel guilty about going out with her in the first place, because all of this could have been avoided.  This guilt turned to anger, which I took out on Kelly, because I felt trapped.  Trapped by morals that were not my own, imposed by what it would look like to others if I broke up with someone as wonderful as Kelly for the reasons listed above.  Helpless but to wait for her to change to fit what I wanted or for what I wanted to change to fit what she was.  Neither happened.  Now, I am still left with that same incapacitating guilt because it was this downward spiraling cycle that caused the breakup to happen.  I still feel guilt when I'm around girls who are more attractive than Kelly, and it makes it very awkward sometimes, even if I just want to be friends with the person.  I feel like if I wasn't able to sustain a relationship with someone as good as Kelly was, then I don't deserve someone that good.  I am not contradicting myself as it may seem.  There are two axes to take into consideration when I'm talking about Kelly.  One is relative to me, a compatibility scale, all of the things that I would want personally and specific to me.  The other is a general scale of quality of a person, things that are universally appreciable: patience, kindness, gentleness, honesty, compassion, humor, etc.  I could not get over the fact that I had someone who was perfect on the latter scale, yet lacked significantly on the former.  It felt like I had everything I needed and nothing I wanted, meaning I felt like I was morally obligated to be content and sinful for wanting more from someone who was perfect in one way but just not in another.  It is this self-scourging sense of guilt that still binds me to that dead relationship and it is why I drag its mutilated corpse with me everywhere I go.

This all compounded with the fact that she was what gave me something to look forward to in life.  The only thing I am really looking forward to at all anymore is the day when she comes back, which means I'm looking at a day which may never come to pass.  No one and nothing else interests me much at all anymore.  If it isn't boring, it is irritating; if it isn't irritating, it's just another source of stress or hopelessness.  I just don't want to be here anymore.  Failing at a relationship, the one thing that I spent more time in preparing for than anything else in my life, has broken me irreparably.  Failing has become a lot easier to me now.  It's so much simpler just to fail, give up, then learn to let go like I have to learn how to do with this relationship, except now this same process applies to homework, classes, school, extracurriculars, and even friendships.  I have lost the one thing that kept me going and gave me drive: the will to never give up, to stick with something until I die, to persevere until it comes to fruition.  Well, I was given up on, the tables were turned on me and I was not allowed to not give up and hold to it, and now I'm not much better than dead because of it.  Just like the Red Pyramid, I am an undead shade of a cursed nightmare, living in an unreal world misted-over, and hacking away at anyone that even dares come close to this monster.

I hope you had a wonderful birthday yesterday.

(Courtesy of PostSecret)

I played D&D for the first time today.  I'm really glad I found group of friends that I can just have fun with and not be serious and not feel at least too criticized.

Not much to say, kinda tired.  Miss you.  I think I found someone that I can start talking to about how to deal with a breakup.  I'm a little intimidated by him only because he has a very dominant character, but otherwise we get along well.  Hopefully it will come up sometime when we can talk about it a little more seriously.  Then again... maybe it would be better to talk about not seriously.  That might be more productive.

Delete

It's so easy to delete pictures, or throw away sentimental objects, or give back letters, or block communication.  But why isn't it so simple to delete memories that plague one's present?  The ones that manage to hijack any train of thought, break into any mental safe that you try to secure your thoughts with, and rob you of your joy, focus, concentration, and motivation.  If you're going to leave, why don't you take everything with you?  Why do you leave traces behind you?  Like the tip of a blade that breaks off and starts digging its way toward one's heart even after the knife is wrenched out from the wound made where it was plunged.

October 6th.  My first and long overdue psychiatrist appointment.  I am too desperate at this point to be scared of anything they will give me.  I'll still do the research on whatever they give me before I take it, but regardless of any side-effect, it will be better than trying nothing or continuing to try all of the things which have failed or I have been unable to do up to this point.  I no longer have Kelly to help stabilize my mood, which didn't even always work but it drastically helped, so now I will have to find a chemical substitute for what should have been there without her in the first place.  I'm a little afraid of what effect they will have on my various neural plasticities.  I kinda wish I could get to talk to Kelly before the drugs change who I am and she doesn't get to talk to the old me... maybe she doesn't want to anyway, as is probably the case.  I wonder if she'll like the new one any better.  I'm not sure to what degree they will change my personality, but they wouldn't be doing their job if they didn't somewhat.  I don't know what I will turn into.  No one does.  I guess that's part of the adventure, part of the risk.  Goodbye old Daniel, adventurous, risk-taking, passionate, frustrated, depressed, hyperanxious, and a swirling cauldron of every other emotion in the book... I hope I don't get bored with myself or with life after I start these mood stabilizers, assuming that's what they'll give me.  It's probably going to be something along the lines of Equilibrium from what I hear, though obviously not as drastic.  I'm wondering what the next step will be.  Like, what happens when I have to go off the medication?  What if one of the effects of the drug is BDNF build-up, which has been proven to be a molecular component of withdrawal symptoms when the stimulus of BDNF over-expression is removed?  It has been an implicator in withdrawal symptoms in many anti-depressants, but I'm not so sure of generalized mood stabilizers.  Man... I feel like my brain is saying to itself: holy crap, I don't know what the hell I should do either, let's just dump in everything we've got.  I feel like I've run out of stress hormones and am now strung out and going through withdrawal myself.

Another day, another mutual friend lost.  I wonder where they're all going and who they are?

How far down the rabbit hole does this go?  It's been so long I'm not so sure I can trace it accurately, but I have to try.  Recent progress shows that this has been going on longer than since Kelly broke up with me.  That traumatic instance only intensified what was already there and took away that which was comforting me to counteract whatever it was/is.  Now, I'm just dealing with the same thing, but I don't have the intense kind of motivation/drive/security/comfort that comes from being in a relationship to get me through it.  Now it's just me and my friends, who have tried to help me in the past, but nothing ever makes this go away completely, which means in order to prevent textbook insanity, I need to look elsewhere for more drastic help.  I tried calling in to set up an appointment with a counselor today, but the counseling center was booked full for today (they only do same day appointments, and I called merely 40 min. after they opened this morning.  I guess I'm not the only one whose mentally screwed up).  They referred me to the mental health clinic on campus.  They were booked for a solid month.  I guess I'll just have to try again tomorrow.  Until then, I don't really want to talk to anyone that much until I've reflected enough by myself.  The only means that I can think of to get me through this are to first stabilize myself through chemical override of my emotions, since other methods of control have been drastically inadequate up to this point.  We'll see where to go from there once things are stable.

Blogging to a blog is like talking to a dog (I promise that rhyme was unintentional).  You can tell it prettymuch anything you want, and it will be there to listen when no one else is.  It will not be hurt by anything that you tell it, or get offended, or feel demeaned, or take insult, or be frustrated at you, or give up on you, or leave you.  It will stay there and listen faithfully no matter what you throw at it.  The trade-off--and there always is a trade-off--is that it will not say anything back to you.  It will not help you with your problems other than by staring back at you with its docile little eyes that mirror your own words without ever understanding what they mean.  It will not comfort you in your distress by truly and actively helping you, just passively offering its constance and immutable ever-there-for-you presence.

Conclusion: I need a dog.  Now.

You know those math problems that you spend forever on only to find out...
NO SOLUTION!!! 
Yea, well, that's my life.

I'm so sore I just want to sleep and cry.  There's too much demand for my time and not enough to go around.  I've already overspent myself and it's not yet three weeks into school.  Every muscle in my body aches and feels like it's completely used up.  My arms and wrists are so sore I can barely hold a door open.  My back can barely bend over to reach my shoes to tie them and to bandage both of my injured legs.  I don't have the time to take care of myself properly.

Tonight is the only night this week where I have had homework and I cannot focus for the life of me.
My apartment is as hot as the 7th layer of hell itself, and the humidity is so bad that it's hard to breathe at night unless there is a fan blowing right at me.

Well... it appears now that Kelly has blocked me from reading her facebook wall... and notes... and basically everything except for pictures, which are worth far less than 1000 words.  This is not making the loneliness I am in any less intense.  Quite.  The.  Opposite.

Talking to Caitlyn til practically 5am last night helped... but it didn't solve the underlying problem.  Nothing seems to.  I just don't want to be lonely anymore.  I sound pathetic, but that is only because this issue has been stripped of all complexity.  I do not think there is much if anything more that I have to discover about it.  I am simply left with the bare reality.  I'm lonely.  Desperately lonely.  I remember a time in my life when I was alone, and lonely, but I was not desperate.  I was merely curious and fascinated by the idea of having a companion and not being lonely.  I had never partaken, so I was not driven to madness by not having it.  Now is not so similar.  I am no longer hopelessly romantic as I once was.  I am hopeless... and whatever romance there was in me has died.  I'm afraid of even trying to be romantic because I fear that it would combine with my desperation and breed something terrible.  How long... how long... how long...
The only option that I can think of to truly solve this is to replace her.  Unfortunately, I made an ill-founded promise that I would not go out with anyone until she was over me, but at this rate, I'll never know when that is, and I cannot be living still chained to her in this way that is keeping me bound in this loneliness, especially when she never made the same promise back.  She could already have found someone else for all I know.  We've already talked about how "it wouldn't be fair" to the other theoretical person if I were to not "be over Kelly," but to tell you the truth, I'm not sure I will ever be over her completely in every possible sense.  She is still living in my past, and I still have the fresh scars from her, so there is no just getting rid of her or getting "over her."  It is possible to get to the point where I no longer desire her romantically.  Is that what it means to be over someone?  I guess I'm already there then.  Can we all stop this now?  Or do I have to not desire her friendship at all too?  Where is the limit?  To what length must this be taken this before my unintentionally vague promise is fulfilled?  If we were still talking, I would probably take back what I told her at all.  It was meant as a sympathy for her, but I did not consider the anchor that it would hang upon me.  I did not consider that it would be a chain of hopelessness binding me still to her.  This chain needs to be broken.

I want to take a semester off.  But I can't.  Not because of school, but because of work.  Because of money, because Rob and John won't be able to cover rent without me.  I just want to stop.  I'm not getting anything out of my classes this semester.  I wish I could drop them and start over... but it's too late in the semester.  I don't know what I should do anymore.  I can't see a way out.  I can't see a way through this.  I need help.

I should be doing biophysics homework, but I literally have no motivation whatsoever.  I can barely stand to look at the problems.  I need help.  I really hate it when professors have only 3 schedules lecture slots a week, and they build there class such that they make it where just going to these lectures is not enough, so they force you to come into your TA's or prof's office hours, even though you already have a damn-full schedule and do not have time except after 5pm to do anything, and no one has office hours that late.  I guess they all have lives or something stupid like that.  Either way, it really pisses me off.  Why don't they just schedule a discussion section like any other normal class?  Is it beyond them?  What the hell is their dysfunction?

I've gotten to used to things getting terrible and out of my control and then so bad that the only thing I can do is give up and then learn to let go.  I've gotten really good at letting go.  But now I don't know how to pick anything up and hold onto it.  I can't afford to drop anymore classes unless I add a 2nd half-semester course, which is what I did last semester, and it ended up working out terribly.  I failed the course I picked up.  I just want to start over this semester... no... I want to start over my whole college career, starting the summer before when I made what is now the most negatively impacting decision of my life.

I can't seem to just sit down and focus on anything and get anything done... and the worst part is that I'm losing the capability to feel bad about it or stressed or driven enough to make me do anything different.  I have just let go of all of these feelings.  I have lost my drive.  That too I have let go of.

Get me out of this place.  Someone?!  Can anyone hear this???!!

I have convinced myself of a few things, at least in concept, as I'm not sure how to go about them in practicality. I have agreed with myself to start seeing a counselor, and possibly for more long-term help join group therapy, if that is what is prescribed to me.  If they want to give me drugs, I will take them, after researching any side-effects of course.  I am willing to try just about anything at this point because nothing is working.  I've even convinced myself that it would help me to try casually dating someone, just so I can figure out how not to take a relationship too seriously, so I can get used to it not working out if I find that we are not meant to be together long-term in a completely committed relationship, so I can find out for sure what I do and do not want in a person, actually rather than theoretically.  I can spend all day trying to come up with a list of things that I think I want, but if I don't end up enjoying them in context, what difference would it make?  That said, I am open if someone happens to come along.  I'm not sure how it would all work out, because I still don't even know how to casually date someone, or what it would even look like, etc., but I do know that I'm open to pushing myself to be able to try something new in this area.  I may not be good at it at first, but we're all learning.  We all need more practice, is the motto of Kuk Sool Won, and if I practice something with extreme frequency that is comparatively trivial such as martial arts, why would I not want to practice for something that is heavily determinant of the outcome of the rest of my life?

I dont know what "alright" is anymore.  My entire equilibrium has been shifted and I don't know where the normal lies.  I don't know what I should be feeling, what parts of me I should be repressing, or if not repressing them, then how I should give them their place.  I feel like the lack of companionship is seriously getting in the way of my friendships, because they cannot give me enough to fill the hole that has been made.  I just want to cry and sleep... but I have work to do, and a test that I haven't studied for nearly enough tonight.  I should be studying right now, but I can't.  I just can't.  It's hard to read a screen when it becomes blurry all of a sudden.  Something needs to go.  Something needs to leave my life... but I don't know what more I can possibly cut out.  Classes? I guess there may be one that I can drop at the most.  It's pretty much too late to replace it with anything now.  Why does this still have such a damn hold over me... it's been so long... I guess time doesn't have anything to do with it.  I thought it did.  I thought I could just wait.  But no.  Waiting just makes it worse I've found.  It just concentrates it.  It focuses it and keeps me from focusing on anything else.  I just want to leave.  Take a metaphysical midnight train out of this life.  Help me... I wish someone could, but I don't think it's possible anymore.  I think even if Kelly were to come back, I wouldn't get better.  I would just continue to get worse regardless.  The damage has been done, and some wounds never heal.  Some wounds never heal til death makes them irrelevant.

Nothing new to say.  Just miss you.  Wonder if you miss me too.  Wondering a lot of things about you.

*Feels like Kiba after he was wrenched from the garden of eternity*

I love it when things click in my mind and finally begin to make sense... except when it sucks.

I just figured out through some form of passive neural computation that the reason that I tend to push away my friends or whenever I distance myself from them, it is because deep down, I want more than friendship, I want companionship, and with that deeper desire masked by the also present desire for friendship, the friendship becomes unfulfilling, and hence I move away from it.  The other alternative is that I start acting as if I am in a companionship, which only leads to hurtful buildup of unspoken desires and wishes.  So far, it's been mostly the former.  I fall in love then with my guitar, or with my adventures, or with my martial artistry.

This is such a lame time for me to be writing, but I have to.

1, I just got a new Das keyboard and I have to use it.
2, It's been a loooooooooooooooooong week.  I injured myself in such a way that I should have gotten stitches, but I didn't know that you can only get a suture 6-12 hours after the initial laceration.  Suckage.
I had to take off most of my classes on Friday just so I could sleep and catch up on work from the lab.  I flat out didn't turn in 2 major assignments this week.  It seems to me that I have fallen behind and started digging.  Not to mention, I had the first dream about Kelly in a long time last night... one in which she came back and was very friendly, but almost too needy still and vice versa.  I still wish I knew where she was at.  Hell... I wish I knew where I am.  Typing on a blank keyboard is like playing a guitar without fretmarkers.  Freeing... yet so free it's confusing.  That is how my life seems right now.  Like I'm not bound to anything, except my work and academics... which apparently are not binding me as much as they should be.
--------------
I went out parkouring and running last night with Frank after going to Kuk Sool earlier in the day.  1st time I did any activity since I busted my shins on Tuesday.  Thankfully, I didn't start bleeding again, despite the fact that I again slipped and fell partially on my shins.  Alyssa visited yesterday, but I didn't really get to see her because of other things I already had going that day.  I guess I shall just have to visit her on my own sometime.  I could use the one-on-one time anyway compared to visiting in a group.  I could never get the hang of  being in a group.

Feeling kinda lonely.  It's been over a 1/3 of a year since Kelly broke off the friendship completely.  I hope she's doing alright.  No one will tell me anything about her.  I wish we were still friends.  I don't know what will still be there if she ever comes back.  I'm scared to think about it now.  Maybe I'm just scared.  I hope you're doing ok.  Your pictures say you are, but they can be interpreted many ways.  I sometimes wonder what you would think about all the new activities I'm doing.  Would you be worried, happy for me, think I was just doing something stupidly dangerous, or whatever else.  I don't know.    How's the healing coming along?  I think for me the rate of acquisition of new injuries is greater than the rate of recovery from old ones. Not sure if the metaphorical counterpart is true, but it's something interesting to think about.  Still waiting...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y9yhSFpblUE&feature=player_embedded

‎"If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, its yours forever. If it dosent, then it was never meant to be."

Miss you...

Not much to say tonight.

I've finally found a way where I can learn parkour.  In fact, there are a lot of opportunities for things I've always wanted to do that I'm taking advantage of.  I think now more than ever I am enjoying the freedom of being single, and by that I mean the boatloads of time that I have to spend on whatever I choose, the not having to check in with anyone else or take anyone else's preferences about what to do or how to utilize one's resources, etc.  It feels nice, though I might add a bit selfish, just having to worry about myself for a change.  Life is a lot more manageable, even a lot more fun and adventurous.  I don't have to deal with anyone's stubbornness or lack of enjoyment or knowledge/understanding about this or that.  If I want to do something, I simply surround myself with the club/group of people that also enjoy whatever that thing is.  Again, it feels almost socially promiscuous trying so many different activities, and not getting bogged down or overly focused on any one of them, but this is how I am, and this is how I would have it.  There are a few clubs that I had to turn down, so as to not overburden myself, so it's not like I cannot say no to adding new time commitments either.

There is one person whose presence has not recently become considerably grating upon my being.  Now it is simply amplified by proximate living quarters.

There are still only two people in my life that I am not terribly afraid of calling for no particular reason at all, just to talk: my mom and Kelly.

blah...gh? 


Sorrow ferments into bitterness.


The usefulness of all the passions consists in their strengthening and prolonging in the soul thoughts which aregood for it to conserve,'' Descartes wrote. ''And all the harm they can do consists in their strengthening and conserving... others which ought not to be fixed there.''


A recently attended neuroscience seminar I attended informed me of a purpose and mechanism of emotional arousal, why it happens and how it works.  The release of norepinephrine (aka, noradrenaline) after any experience has been shown to drastically enhance the recollection of that experience in the short and long term in direct proportion to the amount of norepinephrine released.  


As with everything, this is a double edged sword.  With lab rats with which this was tested, they remembered which plate they stepped on gave them a shock so they could avoid it next time they were placed by it.  But with victims of, let's say, post-traumatic stress disorder, their memory of emotionally intense and for that matter horribly destructive experiences cannot be erased, and it is simply too powerful, so powerful that it fixates their minds completely upon that experience, especially if something triggers it.  


Norepinephrine, released from the adrenal glands, stimulates the amygdalla, which then goes onto up-regulate most/virtually all other sections of the brain dedicated to memory storage, regardless of the type of experience or what has been "learned" through the experience.  Theoretically, if there is a defect, rather a defective enhancement, of the amygdalla, then the victim will have one hell of a time being able to "let go" of their memories, good, bad, and debilitatingly painful.


I'm not exactly trying to make a medical self-diagnosis here, but this is interesting to think about. I am someone who, at least in my opinion, has a fairly sharp long-term memory.  Short-term is a different story, and sometimes I think there may be something wrong with my hippocampus for not being able to remember where I left something 2 minutes prior.  But with my long-term memory, I don't know if other people remember as much as I do, but I think it is somewhat abnormal.  I can remember dreams that I've had from when I was 4 years old, many times exactly where when and how I learned many of the words that I know, etc.  My mind is frequently always playing some memory on repeat over and over again, either in reminiscence which is more willful, or in just because that's what it does automatically.  Based upon how emotionally amplified my mind makes even mundane situations and experiences, it is no wonder to me now why it is the case that my memory is the way it is.  It is also no wonder why I am finding it impossible to let go of the more recent memory of when Kelly left me.  I'm not sure what the clinical definition of PTSD is, but I think I have a micro-version of it.  What was sorrow at first ferments now into bitterness and anger over what happened.  


"Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger.  Anger leads to hate.  Hate leads to suffering."