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.