Outcast
Outcast
or,
Completely standard
I slept for about two or three hours last night and was unable to fall back asleep. I worked a day shift today. I felt mildly ill all day, but that's becoming completely standard. I came home and sat out at the pool for a few hours and finished my book.
Suddenly, I was a mess.
Lately, I haven't known what has been precipitating these rapid changes. The other night at Amy's was a pretty dramatic example. I was in such a good mood one minute that I picked Steven up and carried him around for a while; 15 minutes later, I couldn't look at any of my friends or speak.
Today, it was primarily loneliness. Debilitating loneliness. I'm intimately acquainted with this particular emotion. I had few friends and always felt like an outcast as a child, and I guess the same pattern still holds true. So I've felt this way for my entire life, but tonight, it was particularly unbearable. I keep making phone calls that are not returned, and heaven forbid anybody should ever call me first. I know that logically, this pattern can not be true for everyone. It's clearly a problem with me.
I went to the Inn Place and had one beer. I had to leave. I went to Comet to see who was working. Evarist was there, but the store was busy. I had to go. Along the way, I saw men who were more attractive than I am, which always makes me feel awful about myself. It's worse now that I have been feeling too ill lately to work out. I also passed couples, even ugly ones. They may have been ugly, but at least they weren't alone.
I called Paul. Paul listens to me, and he doesn't blame me. He's the one who called me everyday around the time of Mathew's funeral to see how I was doing. Now that I think about it, of my good friends, he has been around the longest by far. I can't even remember the last time I saw him. It's been a few years at least. He lives near Chicago, and I meant to spend my weekend off this month going to visit him. I didn't. I was too depressed to worry about the logistics. Eventually, we just joked about medical stuff, and I got off the phone feeling like I'd be able to get through the night.
It's so simple...I was in a horrible place, I talked to a friend, and I felt infinitely better. The moral, which I've long known, is that I should spend far less time alone. It's pretty hard, though, when one considers how it's nearly impossible for me to get people to like me enough to want to call me or spend time with me.
or,
Completely standard
I slept for about two or three hours last night and was unable to fall back asleep. I worked a day shift today. I felt mildly ill all day, but that's becoming completely standard. I came home and sat out at the pool for a few hours and finished my book.
Suddenly, I was a mess.
Lately, I haven't known what has been precipitating these rapid changes. The other night at Amy's was a pretty dramatic example. I was in such a good mood one minute that I picked Steven up and carried him around for a while; 15 minutes later, I couldn't look at any of my friends or speak.
Today, it was primarily loneliness. Debilitating loneliness. I'm intimately acquainted with this particular emotion. I had few friends and always felt like an outcast as a child, and I guess the same pattern still holds true. So I've felt this way for my entire life, but tonight, it was particularly unbearable. I keep making phone calls that are not returned, and heaven forbid anybody should ever call me first. I know that logically, this pattern can not be true for everyone. It's clearly a problem with me.
I went to the Inn Place and had one beer. I had to leave. I went to Comet to see who was working. Evarist was there, but the store was busy. I had to go. Along the way, I saw men who were more attractive than I am, which always makes me feel awful about myself. It's worse now that I have been feeling too ill lately to work out. I also passed couples, even ugly ones. They may have been ugly, but at least they weren't alone.
I called Paul. Paul listens to me, and he doesn't blame me. He's the one who called me everyday around the time of Mathew's funeral to see how I was doing. Now that I think about it, of my good friends, he has been around the longest by far. I can't even remember the last time I saw him. It's been a few years at least. He lives near Chicago, and I meant to spend my weekend off this month going to visit him. I didn't. I was too depressed to worry about the logistics. Eventually, we just joked about medical stuff, and I got off the phone feeling like I'd be able to get through the night.
It's so simple...I was in a horrible place, I talked to a friend, and I felt infinitely better. The moral, which I've long known, is that I should spend far less time alone. It's pretty hard, though, when one considers how it's nearly impossible for me to get people to like me enough to want to call me or spend time with me.