(no subject)
warning: this is serious, maybe boring, and entirely just my truths. the latter portion is definitely influenced by the inspirational book i just read, expecting adam, by martha beck. read it!!
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i feel like i should be journaling more than i am (which is basically never), but i hate feeling pressured to get off the computer whenever any random person plops themselves down on a chair fifteen feet away, waiting for me to get up.
so, i don't know what i should be doing, emotions-wise. i feel like being alone most of the time-- do i fight that? this morning i was in the library all morning after breakfast, finishing up that amazing book, and then i ate lunch, and then i went for a bike ride. i can't force myself to socialize, especially because when i try i just end up listening and observing most of the time. but i hate this. i hate realizing how long i've felt like this, like depressed, and not having any clue how to move away from it. obviously i'm trying, because i'm here, right? am i still going to be in this state when i go away? when i board the train? when i'm in portland? or san francisco, or honolulu? i feel depersonalized, and if that doesn't sound like clinical depression, i don't know what is. i don't know how to act around people anymore, i'm not the same person i was last year, i'm not supposed to be "quiet and reserved", as someone pronounced me this morning. i'm not supposed to feel like crying most days. i'm not supposed to have nothing to offer, or despise every word that comes out when i *do* speak up. none of that is me! what the fuck? why do i wander arond most of the time feeling as though i've been transplanted from a galaxy far, far away? i can't think about things in an intelligent, cohesive way, and my attention span is nonexistent. basically, i'm functioning. i eat three meals a day (because they're scheduled and everyone eats at the same time and there's more than enough food to go around, perhaps?). i go to bed earlier than usual-- 10:30, 11, and don't typically get plenty of restful sleep, but at least i don't oversleep or lie awake wishing it would come. i go to work, and it's the people i work with that have seen me break down for no fucking reason at all, who probably feel as though they don't know me at all, who probably wonder what's going on inside and what's happened to me, as i do.
then there's the issue of feeling like i'm too different from everyone here. i'm not an artist, or a musician, or a singer, nor am i particularly knowledgeable on anything all that interesting. most of all, i'm not spiritual. i don't feel like i'm on any path, and being here has actually made me feel less "believing" than more, if that makes any sense. i feel even more than before that i don't believe in anything, although i think i want to. i feel like i'm in stark contrast to everyone else, with their praying and chanting and ohming and blessing their food and each other and various healing methods, it all makes me feel at the polar end of where they are, and it's a little bit scary. i thought that i believed in the magic of the universe, mother nature, that there was some sort of divine in everything all around us, but the whole unfeeling thing has seeped over anything once taking space in my mind, and i'm more in the tangible, physical world than i ever was.
the only time i've ever truly felt like i wasn't alone, like i was being helped by some metaphysical force, was three years ago. it was the beginning of june and i was lying on the floor of my bedroom, in the worst stage of one of my most terrifying anxiety attacks. i remember losing control, feeling scared, and not being able to breathe because both my hands were clenched around my throat, trying to stop the hyperventilating. my whole face was wet with tears, and my muscles were tensed from violent, uncontrollable tremors-- and then it's almost impossible to say what happened next. my mind had been so sure that i was not going to come out of the attack that it had given up any rational thinking, and so it was no longer up to me. i know that i came out of it, and was eventually able to regulate my breathing and sit up, almost like a curtain had closed on my voluntary abilities and then opened again, in some timeless space. what i felt was something, someone there with me, assisting me because i had given up. there was a presence in my room that afternoon, and for some reason i felt that it was my godfather, who died months after i was born. does everyone have crazy things they feel weird admitting, but know in their deepest hearts that they're true? i guess this is mine. my godfather eddie, who i have no actual memories of at all, was watching over me that day and brought me down from my extreme panic. i stopped believing in the idea of heaven a long time ago, so who knows what the proper explanation is. souls or spirits floating around? are guardian angels a part of everyone's lives when they're most in need? i've never felt anything like that again, but i almost wish that i have. i need more signs, more encounters with magic, the spiritual, with beauty and my mind, body and soul interconnection. i wonder if other people have stories like that, and if i would believe them.
maybe i'll try to be more open. maybe i'll try not to live so much inside myself, while at the same time not feeling so disconnected from my thoughts, feelings and opinions. but i'm still so lost, so fragile, so disjointed. i wish i knew what to do.
*
i feel like i should be journaling more than i am (which is basically never), but i hate feeling pressured to get off the computer whenever any random person plops themselves down on a chair fifteen feet away, waiting for me to get up.
so, i don't know what i should be doing, emotions-wise. i feel like being alone most of the time-- do i fight that? this morning i was in the library all morning after breakfast, finishing up that amazing book, and then i ate lunch, and then i went for a bike ride. i can't force myself to socialize, especially because when i try i just end up listening and observing most of the time. but i hate this. i hate realizing how long i've felt like this, like depressed, and not having any clue how to move away from it. obviously i'm trying, because i'm here, right? am i still going to be in this state when i go away? when i board the train? when i'm in portland? or san francisco, or honolulu? i feel depersonalized, and if that doesn't sound like clinical depression, i don't know what is. i don't know how to act around people anymore, i'm not the same person i was last year, i'm not supposed to be "quiet and reserved", as someone pronounced me this morning. i'm not supposed to feel like crying most days. i'm not supposed to have nothing to offer, or despise every word that comes out when i *do* speak up. none of that is me! what the fuck? why do i wander arond most of the time feeling as though i've been transplanted from a galaxy far, far away? i can't think about things in an intelligent, cohesive way, and my attention span is nonexistent. basically, i'm functioning. i eat three meals a day (because they're scheduled and everyone eats at the same time and there's more than enough food to go around, perhaps?). i go to bed earlier than usual-- 10:30, 11, and don't typically get plenty of restful sleep, but at least i don't oversleep or lie awake wishing it would come. i go to work, and it's the people i work with that have seen me break down for no fucking reason at all, who probably feel as though they don't know me at all, who probably wonder what's going on inside and what's happened to me, as i do.
then there's the issue of feeling like i'm too different from everyone here. i'm not an artist, or a musician, or a singer, nor am i particularly knowledgeable on anything all that interesting. most of all, i'm not spiritual. i don't feel like i'm on any path, and being here has actually made me feel less "believing" than more, if that makes any sense. i feel even more than before that i don't believe in anything, although i think i want to. i feel like i'm in stark contrast to everyone else, with their praying and chanting and ohming and blessing their food and each other and various healing methods, it all makes me feel at the polar end of where they are, and it's a little bit scary. i thought that i believed in the magic of the universe, mother nature, that there was some sort of divine in everything all around us, but the whole unfeeling thing has seeped over anything once taking space in my mind, and i'm more in the tangible, physical world than i ever was.
the only time i've ever truly felt like i wasn't alone, like i was being helped by some metaphysical force, was three years ago. it was the beginning of june and i was lying on the floor of my bedroom, in the worst stage of one of my most terrifying anxiety attacks. i remember losing control, feeling scared, and not being able to breathe because both my hands were clenched around my throat, trying to stop the hyperventilating. my whole face was wet with tears, and my muscles were tensed from violent, uncontrollable tremors-- and then it's almost impossible to say what happened next. my mind had been so sure that i was not going to come out of the attack that it had given up any rational thinking, and so it was no longer up to me. i know that i came out of it, and was eventually able to regulate my breathing and sit up, almost like a curtain had closed on my voluntary abilities and then opened again, in some timeless space. what i felt was something, someone there with me, assisting me because i had given up. there was a presence in my room that afternoon, and for some reason i felt that it was my godfather, who died months after i was born. does everyone have crazy things they feel weird admitting, but know in their deepest hearts that they're true? i guess this is mine. my godfather eddie, who i have no actual memories of at all, was watching over me that day and brought me down from my extreme panic. i stopped believing in the idea of heaven a long time ago, so who knows what the proper explanation is. souls or spirits floating around? are guardian angels a part of everyone's lives when they're most in need? i've never felt anything like that again, but i almost wish that i have. i need more signs, more encounters with magic, the spiritual, with beauty and my mind, body and soul interconnection. i wonder if other people have stories like that, and if i would believe them.
maybe i'll try to be more open. maybe i'll try not to live so much inside myself, while at the same time not feeling so disconnected from my thoughts, feelings and opinions. but i'm still so lost, so fragile, so disjointed. i wish i knew what to do.