I Don't Know
Journaling.
I remember wanting to have a journal like my grandfather, he said it was like putting your memories in a bank where they would never fade. It solidified time and you could access it any time you wanted to.
I tried. I had a couple of journals throughout my life, always with two entries that were heartfelt, a few snippets of random bitching and then mabye a poem. Mabye at the most a total of 10 pages tops.
What ended up happening is when I would write I would journal, let's say for example,; a theory or how I am in some way, what I think and I ended up having a conversation with someone that sounded eerily similar to the journal entry. Just trying for connection in someway.
That's when I realized that journaling is communication. A story, an idea, a something; that has hit you and you want to remember that and possibly affect others by the sharing. That's the rub...I could never write a journal in words if it were meant for only my eyes. So if there is nothing in my life that I think someone will relate to then I have no urge to write it down. At the very least it had better be entertaining.
Right now my life would not entertain anyone. And really, there is very little about me that I can tell people AND have them understand AND have them believe. I go to work. I come home to a apartment in various stages of squalor and I stay awake. On purpose...I play games. I surf the internet...I used to call people or talk to them online...but not so much (meaning never). I stay awake because I feel like the regular awake time is somebody elses and my Self is not a central part of the equation. I use my underderstading to connect with another, but very rarely do they have insight into me. They may "know" me...Love me even, with the feeling being mutual; but without me spending alot of time translating myself, they wouldn't get it. Or worse...if I did translate myself alot and just stopped, the other getting the weirdest ideas and wounds against my charachter.
Well...now I am talking to nobody. No connections like the ones I would be involved in exist. The only one that does is with my Girlfriend Kaitie...and not only does she only share herself with me..but she constantly reacts as if my reaction to her is disgust, so it's not a feeling of being seen and understood.
So I stay awake spending frivilous time with myself, where I don't feel guilty for making a person feel bad because of something they assumed about me (that is usually wrong and the times it has some bits based in reality it they are used to somehow debunk various unrelated parts of my phsyche. For a made example; I call into work when I am not physically sick...but still of neep of health. I'll feel bad and say a joke about something tp do with how in a manner of speaking I AM sick and need to recover. The reaction to this would be. oh oh I am being "manipulated" I must over analyse and look for the "hidden agenda"...so I just stopped. Talking...explaining and what not. No resentment to the people...I just don't want the chain reaction....and so I will not even journal since it has caused these stirs...
My journaling picks up when I have nobody to talk to ....not in a real way, for whatever reason. (I'm worried my Gf will read this and think this is a Swan's Song for our relationship. It's not...I Love her to death. She does understand me and loves me for true parts of me...but does not afford herself the same courtesy. What others do to me..she does to herself...and when I love her and tell her....I am reacted to like I am mocking her...not all the time (or I wouldn't very well be understood woulf I?) but enough that the connection is real and true and shared as well as disbelieved, and all these feelings of disgust are preceived as being wihtheld...that makes me feel alone. I never had those feelings. I never will.
But here...another picture into my being that has not been used in my daily life...So sad because it used to be the opposite. Haven't slept for almost three days...looking at the clock with resignation knowing I work in a few hours and if I sleep I will not wake up. Yeah I'll be all right...but for now it's a sadness that stains even the most genuine smile.
I remember wanting to have a journal like my grandfather, he said it was like putting your memories in a bank where they would never fade. It solidified time and you could access it any time you wanted to.
I tried. I had a couple of journals throughout my life, always with two entries that were heartfelt, a few snippets of random bitching and then mabye a poem. Mabye at the most a total of 10 pages tops.
What ended up happening is when I would write I would journal, let's say for example,; a theory or how I am in some way, what I think and I ended up having a conversation with someone that sounded eerily similar to the journal entry. Just trying for connection in someway.
That's when I realized that journaling is communication. A story, an idea, a something; that has hit you and you want to remember that and possibly affect others by the sharing. That's the rub...I could never write a journal in words if it were meant for only my eyes. So if there is nothing in my life that I think someone will relate to then I have no urge to write it down. At the very least it had better be entertaining.
Right now my life would not entertain anyone. And really, there is very little about me that I can tell people AND have them understand AND have them believe. I go to work. I come home to a apartment in various stages of squalor and I stay awake. On purpose...I play games. I surf the internet...I used to call people or talk to them online...but not so much (meaning never). I stay awake because I feel like the regular awake time is somebody elses and my Self is not a central part of the equation. I use my underderstading to connect with another, but very rarely do they have insight into me. They may "know" me...Love me even, with the feeling being mutual; but without me spending alot of time translating myself, they wouldn't get it. Or worse...if I did translate myself alot and just stopped, the other getting the weirdest ideas and wounds against my charachter.
Well...now I am talking to nobody. No connections like the ones I would be involved in exist. The only one that does is with my Girlfriend Kaitie...and not only does she only share herself with me..but she constantly reacts as if my reaction to her is disgust, so it's not a feeling of being seen and understood.
So I stay awake spending frivilous time with myself, where I don't feel guilty for making a person feel bad because of something they assumed about me (that is usually wrong and the times it has some bits based in reality it they are used to somehow debunk various unrelated parts of my phsyche. For a made example; I call into work when I am not physically sick...but still of neep of health. I'll feel bad and say a joke about something tp do with how in a manner of speaking I AM sick and need to recover. The reaction to this would be. oh oh I am being "manipulated" I must over analyse and look for the "hidden agenda"...so I just stopped. Talking...explaining and what not. No resentment to the people...I just don't want the chain reaction....and so I will not even journal since it has caused these stirs...
My journaling picks up when I have nobody to talk to ....not in a real way, for whatever reason. (I'm worried my Gf will read this and think this is a Swan's Song for our relationship. It's not...I Love her to death. She does understand me and loves me for true parts of me...but does not afford herself the same courtesy. What others do to me..she does to herself...and when I love her and tell her....I am reacted to like I am mocking her...not all the time (or I wouldn't very well be understood woulf I?) but enough that the connection is real and true and shared as well as disbelieved, and all these feelings of disgust are preceived as being wihtheld...that makes me feel alone. I never had those feelings. I never will.
But here...another picture into my being that has not been used in my daily life...So sad because it used to be the opposite. Haven't slept for almost three days...looking at the clock with resignation knowing I work in a few hours and if I sleep I will not wake up. Yeah I'll be all right...but for now it's a sadness that stains even the most genuine smile.