That post is me rubbing the salt deeper into my wounds and grinning.
What that refers to is the following set of events: For quite some time now, I've felt my sanity slowly slipping away as I got more and more paranoid & nervous. In the company of others, I'd spend half my time doing my best to trick myself into having a good time and being conversational, and the rest trying to keep myself from losing it and taking off running. Essentially, I'd trip up once in a while and lose my connection to the flow of social events, and have a hard time jumping back in 'cause I was too distant. I starved my own creativity by second-guessing myself everytime I thought of something to say.
This culminated somewhat last Wednesday. I was in Leo's, and for some reason some big campaign for safe sex had magnets and frisbees and calendars all over the place. Lisa sat herself down on the couch and put her legs on top of mine, then started listing off the various methods of contraception available. After about twenty minutes of being trapped in a corner with *everyone* around me discussing a subject bordering on the deepest emotional connection possible, I tried to tell a joke to show that I could still interact, screwed up the punchline, and tried to run away. I got caught on someone's headphone cord, tripped over the couch, and hid there for about twenty minutes.
This weekend, I went on a roadtrip to McMaster, where one of me enjoyed myself, and the other got more and more worried that I would actually have a nervous breakdown in front of a big crowd of strangers and a small number of people to whom it was important to maintain face.
Once I finally got home, I played with my cat (who had been alone for two nights, and was happy to see me) then went to sleep. In the morning, Athena (the cat) was sleeping beside me. At a certain point, she meowed, and I pet her... and then she gave a horrible moan like something was awfully wrong...
...then she gave a choking sound.
...then she went limp. Completely, horribly limp.
I... tried to pump her little kitty heart back to life... but she kept staring off into space and wouldn't react. Plus, I have no idea where the heart is on a cat. So I brought her to the vet, and they told me she had died, and blamed it on her heart. I'm not really sure why. I guess cats are just ... fragile.
Now I have no idea how to put any of my problems in perspective. I have no idea if they even matter anymore. The only way my cat could ever connect with me was through simple visual or meowed cues. She was more alone than I could ever be, and now she's dead. I, on the other hand, have been stressing out about not being as active or confident as other guys, or about being able to pull the right strings and win a girl's heart.
So, yeah...I nearly had a nervous breakdown... and then my cat died in my hands. And I'm still finding it next to impossible to really understand how I feel about any of this.
What that refers to is the following set of events:
For quite some time now, I've felt my sanity slowly slipping away as I got more and more paranoid & nervous. In the company of others, I'd spend half my time doing my best to trick myself into having a good time and being conversational, and the rest trying to keep myself from losing it and taking off running.
Essentially, I'd trip up once in a while and lose my connection to the flow of social events, and have a hard time jumping back in 'cause I was too distant. I starved my own creativity by second-guessing myself everytime I thought of something to say.
This culminated somewhat last Wednesday. I was in Leo's, and for some reason some big campaign for safe sex had magnets and frisbees and calendars all over the place. Lisa sat herself down on the couch and put her legs on top of mine, then started listing off the various methods of contraception available. After about twenty minutes of being trapped in a corner with *everyone* around me discussing a subject bordering on the deepest emotional connection possible, I tried to tell a joke to show that I could still interact, screwed up the punchline, and tried to run away. I got caught on someone's headphone cord, tripped over the couch, and hid there for about twenty minutes.
This weekend, I went on a roadtrip to McMaster, where one of me enjoyed myself, and the other got more and more worried that I would actually have a nervous breakdown in front of a big crowd of strangers and a small number of people to whom it was important to maintain face.
Once I finally got home, I played with my cat (who had been alone for two nights, and was happy to see me) then went to sleep. In the morning, Athena (the cat) was sleeping beside me. At a certain point, she meowed, and I pet her... and then she gave a horrible moan like something was awfully wrong...
...then she gave a choking sound.
...then she went limp. Completely, horribly limp.
I... tried to pump her little kitty heart back to life... but she kept staring off into space and wouldn't react. Plus, I have no idea where the heart is on a cat. So I brought her to the vet, and they told me she had died, and blamed it on her heart. I'm not really sure why. I guess cats are just ... fragile.
Now I have no idea how to put any of my problems in perspective. I have no idea if they even matter anymore. The only way my cat could ever connect with me was through simple visual or meowed cues. She was more alone than I could ever be, and now she's dead. I, on the other hand, have been stressing out about not being as active or confident as other guys, or about being able to pull the right strings and win a girl's heart.
So, yeah...I nearly had a nervous breakdown... and then my cat died in my hands. And I'm still finding it next to impossible to really understand how I feel about any of this.
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Oh god. I feel like shit.
I'm so sorry, Simon. I didn't...christ.
I hope you can forgive me for that...
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