Void
You know what? I don't care how much I'll regret this or how uncomfortable I'll make everyone feel by saying it. I am really quite tired of being too worried about depressing people to let anything out.
No matter how great things seem lately, how everything seems to be working out in an earthly, pragmatic sort of way, I hate my life. I hate it because I miss Liz and every day when I wake up I feel like I'm going to die. It hasn't gotten any easier. I don't feel any better. I can't breathe. I am numb. I am dead. Nothing is growing here anymore. Who thought I was handling it well? I'm not.
And if I believe in God I hate him and if I don't then I have absolutely nothing to look forward to.I hate how I feel stupid saying this when it's pretty much the most honest thing I've ever said.
I'm sorry. But not really. I'm not really ashamed.
Breakfast: Nothing.
Lunch: Peanutbutter & Jelly, Chips, Cookies, Snapple.
Dinner: Cheese, Chips, Grilled Cheese, French Fries, Water.
posted by Timo @ 11:00 PM
3 comments
3 Comments:
I wrote this a few days ago:
"I'm Depressed"
I haven't been sleeping well lately. You see, it's been customary for me to say a few prayers before falling asleep. As a fairly religious person, I've done that for some years now. Well, I don't pray anymore.
See, a friend of mine died in a car accident this past August. I'm sure some of you remember. She was in a medically induced coma for a week before the doctors figured out that she was completely brain dead. During that week, I prayed alongside hundreds of other people, and we had but one request. It was ignored.
Somehow I kept my faith for a while after that. I guess theology was just the last thing on my mind.
A couple months ago, I started thinking a lot about the accident. I realize now that I've never gotten over it, and I doubt I ever will. It just stayed in a distant part of my mind until it was ready to come out and cause trouble. While I still believe on God, I've stopped believing that he listens to our prayers.
It bothers me when people pray to God for trivial little things, and then rejoice when they happen to go well for them. How is it they can think that God helped them get to work on time, when he didn't lift a figure to help my friend wake up? I'd rather have a God that ignores all our entreaties than one who fulfills some and ignores others with seeming randomness.
People tell me that God must have had some other plan than the one we were praying for then. Well, if he's got this damn ineffable plan, then what's the point of praying at all? Or what, does he change it sometimes? Then we're back to square one with the randomness.
But I'm rambling. The point is, whenever I lay down in bed, the habit of prayer comes to mind. This brings the whole affair to mind, and I lie awake, thinking and unable to sleep. I remember watching my friend lying on a hospital bed, breathing via a respirator, but dead nevertheless. Asleep but never to awake.
In order to sleep, I tried the time honoured solution of drinking. Some vodka, some kahlua, and some wine. It did the trick, but I don't think getting drunk and collapsing into bed is exactly the answer I'm looking for. In my estimation, it's not the best long-term solution, what with all the side-effects.
I'm not sure why I brought this up. I don't really expect anyone to be able to help. But that's a pretty common trait of depression, isn't it?"
A few minutes later, I added:
"Oh also, I'm not getting any. That doesn't help either."
Anyways, I'm not sleeping much better, and I'm still sad about Liz, and I'm still not getting any and unsure of my faith.
But I'm not depressed anymore. I'm listening to more music, and finding more happiness in the little things. When you can't find it in the big things, that's really the only place to turn. It's not a very bad place either, with the birds, the trees, the smiles, the jokes and the tunes.
(the first time, I put this on the wrong post. It's those accursed records of your diet. I saw one and thought it was the same)
Hey Greg. That was really nice.
Greg?
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