How Can This Mean Anything to Me…

… if I really don’t feel anything at all?

It’ll be a couple of months before I see my psychiatrist again. I’m wondering if I should make an appointment because as of late I’ve just been having this overwhelming feeling of apathy. I looked up what I was feeling and it seems that I’m struggling with what is called “anhedonia.” Most people think depression is just moping around, feeling like Eeyore, but this is something different. It’s just a complete and total lack of enjoyment.

As I may have mentioned or hinted at in my last post, I have always loved reading, but right now I can’t sit still long enough to read. I used to love going for walks. I’ve mentioned that I can’t drive anymore, but I would still enjoy going for rides to town or taking a trip to a friend’s house. Not anymore. I just want to feel some kind of pleasure. Hell, if I’m being totally honest, masturbation isn’t even fun anymore.

Life has just become banal. I hate waking up. I hate getting online and checking in with friends. I hate going out to try to meet new friends. I used to go to the bar to chit-chat with the bartenders and others, but I don’t want to do that anymore, either. On top of the depression I don’t feel anything but boredom and ennui.

I wake up and step outside and see the world around me and just think “Fuck. There’s absolutely nothing to look forward to today. I’m going to do absolutely nothing except go back inside, maybe eat something, and I’m going right back to bed.” I feel bad for my dogs, honestly. I know they want to go and do and go for a walk and I have to muster up enough energy to take them for their walk. That’s one thing that bothers me the most. I’m unable to take my dogs for their walk so I know they’re getting bored, but they also don’t understand that I’m just not feeling up to it.

I’d let them run loose if I could, but one doesn’t get along with other dogs and I fear she’s going to attack someone’s dog as they are taking it for a walk. I pretty much just walk mine to keep one of them under control so there’s no lawsuit involved. I get awakened by them in the morning and I just think, “Leave me alone. You don’t understand. I don’t want to walk. I don’t want to leave this bed. Just let me sleep until tomorrow, let me sleep until the day after tomorrow and the day after that.”

All I want is sleep. My dreams are more fun than my reality. I had a dream last night that I was flying. That dream was interrupted by the dogs wanting to go out, but it was too dark for me to walk them and I didn’t want to let them roam free because who knows when they would come back? I feel like I’ve posted about this before, but I can’t keep track of anything. I’m having deja vu right now. I guess that happens when every day is exactly the same as the last.

Sometimes showering is a chore. It sounds gross, but I go for a few days without showering and have to muster up enough energy to turn the fucking shower on in the first place. Things that used to make me laugh no longer do: funny movies, stand-up comedians, memes, etc. None of them do me any good and I hate it.

Music doesn’t even hold the same effect as it once did. I’m tired of listening to music. I’ve heard it all before. I have a couple of concerts coming up that I’ll be attending and I’m worried that I’m going to feel this way when the concert date arrives.

Fuck it. I’m going to go smoke pot to escape what I’m feeling (or in this case not feeling) right now.

some

Boredom’s Not a Burden Anyone Should Bear

I wake up every day just like everyone else does that hasn’t passed away the night before, but here recently I’ve done nothing but wake up stressed and anxious. I go to bed stressed and anxious. I have had to take my anxiety meds more and more as of late, which I don’t like. I feel like my skin is crawling most days. I feel like crawling out of my skin. I can’t sit still, I toss and turn in bed, trying to find the most comfortable position. When I do find a position that’s comfortable it doesn’t last long. I have to switch from my left side to my right and then I’m on my back once again with my hands over my chest, fingers interlocked. I was told by a friend of mine when we shared a hotel room together one night that I look like a corpse when I sleep. At least the dead sleep soundly.

New Year’s Eve was an enjoyable night for me. I got to spend it with friends I don’t get to see very often. However, I’m unable to stay up as late as I once was. I think I finally crashed on my friends’ couch around two in the morning. I remember the times before when I was able to stay awake, drink, smoke pot, and talk about virtually anything until nearly six in the morning. Two in the morning is late for me now. I find myself going to bed around 8pm or so these days, sometimes even sooner than that. I’m not even tired when I go to bed. I just have nothing else to do.

I have new books to read to keep me busy right now. I am able to get through several pages some days and others I can’t finish a paragraph before that feeling of wanting to break out of my skin happens once more. I don’t want to be dependent on meds, but they’re the only way I’m able to feel some sense of normalcy. I’m stuck between wanting to do something and wanting to do nothing at all.

Why aren’t we able to just sit and be bored? Why can’t I just lie in bed and be happy that there’s nothing to do, nowhere to go, no obligations to meet? It’s hard for me to go out anymore. I just can’t bring myself to be around other people. New Year’s Eve was an exception. I had a great time with my friends, but there was still that part of me beforehand that was wondering if I was going to change my mind and just stay home and ring in the new year in a slumber. I’m wondering if my meds need to be changed again, but my psychiatrist said she doesn’t like to switch or alter meds during the holiday season. Who knows? Maybe if she went against what she likes doing with her patients then I’d be OK right now.

Then again, maybe I’ll never be OK. The suicidal thoughts aren’t as bad as they once were, but they’re still there. They happen mostly at night, but not always. Sometimes during the day since it’s just me here with nothing to occupy my time and the anxiety that hits me out of nowhere that I just want an out. Yet I press on. I think I’ll press on right now by taking a nap.

Fuck. I’ve only been awake for four hours and I’m already wanting a nap and fantasizing even more about tonight when I get to sleep for 10-12 long hours only to repeat the entire routine all over again the next day.

It’s a Sorry World

I took the title of this blog from a song by a comedian I always liked: Tim Wilson. The opening lyrics are as follows:

You can go to war when you’re 18,

But you can’t buy a beer.

You can launch missiles from a submarine,

But you can’t buy a pistol here.

You can breathe chemical weapon fumes,

But they don’t want you to smoke.

So if you’re shooting up a bar in Baghdad,

Don’t order a rum and Coke.

I spent the new year with some near and dear friends as I do every year. We talked about things normal people talk about: funny shit from the past that we did, religion, how much everyone and everything sucks, politics, etc. I was not aware that a federal law had been passed that bans the sale of tobacco products to anyone under the age of 21. Since when did the Republicans start meddling in state affairs? I thought they were the party completely and totally against that. I guess it just goes to show you that Carlin was right. This country was bought and paid for a long time ago by people with deep pockets. None of them give a shit about you or your rights. They believe in taking your money and telling you what to do.

I’m a firm believer in being able to do as one wishes as long as you’re not hurting another human being. If you want to smoke, drink, do drugs then that’s all fine and good with me as long as you’re not inconveniencing someone else or causing them any physical harm. I’m sure you’re harming those around you who care about you, but that’s a post for another day (another day where I’m probably not going to feel like writing.)

You now have to sign up for the draft at 18, you can buy a gun at 18, you can go and fight in a war you don’t believe in, kill others in different countries, and bomb the shit out of said countries all you want … just don’t you go thinking you can come back home after doing all of that and enjoying a smooth cigarette or a delicious beer. You can kill people by the dozens, but you’re way too irresponsible and immature to handle your alcohol and tobacco.

Welcome to America. You are free to do as they tell you.

Anti-Natalism Chronicles XIV: A Return

It’s going to be hard to type this since I’m on a different computer since my Mac is being serviced at the moment so sorry for any mistakes. It’s a bitch getting used to a different keyboard when you’ve used the same one for three years now. I wanted to talk once again about anti-natalism since that’s mostly what my blog is about and one of my main beliefs as a person.

I was sitting outside just now, having my morning coffee when I started thinking about my last relationship and how it ended because she brought up the fact that she wanted children one day. We had known each other for seven years. We dated for two of those seven years. She knew how I felt about having children and at one point said she didn’t want any, either. Out of the blue one night as we were lying in bed together she said she thinks she may want them one day. “Well, you know how I feel about that. Besides, you know I’ve gotten a vasectomy so it’s kind of a done deal for me.”

No harsh words were spoken or exchanged. We didn’t argue. We just kind of decided that this was one area where we weren’t going to be able to reach a compromise. There is no compromising when it comes to children. You either want them or you don’t and I don’t.

I had always joked that every girl from my hometown was born pregnant because they either had a baby by high school (middle school in some cases) or it was the first thing that happened after high school. Practically everyone I know now has at least one child so that sucks for me as far as dating is concerned. It’s just one of those things that’s a definitive “no” for me. Kind of like anal is a definitive “no” for a lot of women. Hey, you don’t do butt stuff. I don’t like kids. I respect your decision to not do butt stuff. Respect my decision to not have children.

I don’t think I’d make a good dad anyway. It’s not like I had a positive influence in the dad department growing up so who’s to say I wouldn’t be an asshole just like my father was? I’ve also got the mental and physical health issues going on so why would I risk bringing a child into the world with said issues? That’s something I’ve never understood about people who have mental issues, emotional issues, health issues, etc. that are genetic. If they’re genetic and you know you risk passing them onto your offspring then why do you go ahead with having your own offspring? Kind of a dick move on your part.

Maybe I have more compassion than others or I give myself credit for. I don’t want to bring any children into a world such as this one; a world plagued by violence, climate change, disease, and a number of other things that could go wrong and do go wrong on a daily basis. I see commercials for hospitals for children with cancer and just think to myself if only their parents didn’t have them at all then those children wouldn’t be going through what they’re going through right now.

We all want suffering to end so shouldn’t we be stopping it before it begins? There’s no suffering in non-existence. I’ve never once met a person who didn’t exist that had cancer. I’ve never once met a person who didn’t exist that got murdered for no reason at all. Call it a coincidence if you want, but I think there’s something more to my theory here.

If you already have children then by all means, love them with every fiber of your being and take care of them to the best of your ability.

If you don’t have children then do what’s best for the children you don’t have and leave them be in whatever dimension there is before birth. All that comes with existence is suffering and eventual death and heartbreak.

Overdose

“Overdose” – Hurt

I’ll take one
‘Cause I needed to feel it so much
I had an emotional crutch
But I’m feeling bored
So I’ll take some more
Cause nothing is happening

And once you told me you loved me so much
I foolishly began to trust
But now I’m ignored
And I’m taking more
Till something is happening.

I’ll take one ’cause I needed to feel it so much
I needed that thing we call fun
But now I’m ignored
And I’ll take some more
‘Til something is happening

Cause once I thought you were right here with me
So maybe I’ll take two or three
Until I believe
That what I have seen

Is really happening.

Morpheus!
How could you leave me when I had need of your love?
Stop holding back!
Give me one reason to think you’re decent

When I am alone
Alone
Alone

Don’t you ever try to bring me back

With this one…

Drinking Bourbon that Isn’t Mine

Technically it’s mine since I bought it, but I bought it for my cousin’s kid. He’s 20, which is not the legal drinking age here. It’s 21. I hold the belief though that if you’re able to go and die in a war that you don’t believe in then you should be able to get plastered (even while going to die in the war you don’t believe in.) So I bought the kid a bottle of Wild Turkey.

We had every intention of partaking tonight, but I wasn’t feeling it today for the most part. I woke up in a shit mood, just one of my moods that I have. I had a doctor’s appointment with my neurologist and we discussed my migraines and seizures. I had had a migraine the night before and informed her of this so I’m switching meds again. The medication she is putting me on comes with some serious side effects so I’m a bit concerned about that, but we’ll see how it turns out.

I got home and popped a couple of my anti-anxiety meds and smoked some weed just to see if it’d put me in a better mood. It did after a while, but it also made me tired. I fell asleep around 5 and woke up around 9. Now I’m awake and bored. My cousin nor his kid seem to be anywhere around so I just said, “Fuck it. I bought the booze so I’m drinking it.” Sorry, kid. You missed out. I’ll get him some more eventually, but tonight is my night to drink and forget whatever is ailing me.

I don’t even know why I’m blogging right now seeing as I have nothing to say. I jotted down a lot of my thoughts in my journal earlier and pretty much said everything that was going on in my head. I wonder about when I die and when someone is reading my journal what they’ll think. It’s not just a bunch of “woe is me” shit in there. I’ve written down parts of stories I want to complete. I’ve jotted down ideas for comics I want to start. Tonight I just wrote down a conversation I was having with myself in my head and wanted to put it on the record so to speak.

Right now I’m drinking this Wild Turkey and blogging, trying to make myself tired enough to go back to sleep because that’s the only relief I seem to get from the world around me, a world that I don’t think I belong to anymore; a world that I don’t think really wants me in it anymore. If there’s one thing I took away from the acid trip a couple of weeks ago it’s that this isn’t all there is to it. All the bullshit we have to go through on a daily basis, all the stress, all the worry, none of it is going to matter in the end. We’re all going to die and none of that shit goes with us (at least as far as I know. I’ve never been dead before.)

I had a friend that died the other day. He died for a minute or two and was revived. I asked him what happened. Is there a heaven? Did he see a bright light? No. He said he saw Randy Travis. So apparently Randy Travis is the afterlife and we’ll be sitting around and listening to “Digging Up Bones” for eternity. At least I enjoy that song.

Kafkaphony 2020

I used to write political posts on other blog sites. I’d write how the left and the right are both equally stupid and get those on the right calling me a liberal snowflake and those on the left calling me a Trumpster. That’s why I avoid political blogs these days and speaking my mind concerning politics. It leads to nothing but name calling and bashing other people. No one can have a civil debate, especially not on the internet. It just leads to one great big free-for-all of shit slinging.

It was fun seeing all those who took politics so seriously getting riled up over what some unknown on the internet said about their political party? Who cares what political party someone aligns themselves with? Neither party gives a flying fuck about you. Why should you give a flying fuck about them?

I don’t know if it’s laziness on my part or apathy or what. I do pay attention to the news, but I don’t see the need to get involved with any of it. I’ll never change anyone’s mind and they’ll never change mine. I shouldn’t say never. If you have a valid point and solid arguments then my opinion can be swayed. I’m stubborn, I’m not stupid. When facts are represented to me as facts then I can bow out and say, “OK. You’re right.”

That’s the problem. Too many people are concerned with being right and the internet allows them that freedom. They can argue all through the day and night and no one is going to convince them of what they already believe because it’s the internet. You don’t have to have an informed opinion. You can just post whatever link you found as proof and say, “There. My work is done for the day.” Does it matter that the website you posted the link to is satire and isn’t mean to be taken seriously? No, because you posted it as fact and it’s going to remain a fact to you no matter what other people say. They can link you to sites debunking the one you posted, but you can just call that site biased and left- or -right leaning and call it a day.

I believe in total freedom as far as free speech is concerned. You should be allowed to be as bigoted, hateful, and stupid as you want. I don’t even believe in suppressing hate speech because it’s free speech. It’s when you set out to physically harm other human beings is when I have the problem. The left- and right-leaning on these websites only believe in freedom when it suits them. They want freedom of speech for themselves, but not for those who think or believe differently than they do.

To me the only people who shouldn’t have free speech are hippies … and juggalos … and the left … and the right. OK, so only I should be allowed to have free speech and everyone else should have the right to shut the fuck up.

Kafkaphony 2020.

Bullshit 2020

You never want to tell another person you’re feeling suicidal. You don’t know what that person is going to do. They may call emergency services, which I’ve had happen before. I’ve been honest with my psychiatrist and have told her the times I’ve felt suicidal. She understands that that comes with the territory of depression and bipolar disorder. I’m not actively seeking to kill myself. Today I’ve just felt a little off and not myself.

I hate how my moods fluctuate so much. It’s been this way for me for as long as I can remember. Right now I’m lying in bed and just wanting to not feel. I don’t want to be here anymore. This feeling may pass tomorrow, it may continue into next week. My brain’s just all fucked up. I just know that right here and right now that I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to face tomorrow. I don’t know what to do about it, either. I never know what to do about it.

I take that back. I sleep. I sleep as long as I possibly can. I slept for a total of 16 hours today and I’m still tired. I plan on turning in soon and I don’t plan on waking up to do anything tomorrow except let the dogs out when they start whining that they’re ready to go out. I remember when my dog, Denver, who passed away over a year ago now would let me know he was ready for his walk I’d get up with a grunt and go, “OK, boy. Hang on and let me get my shoes on and we’ll go.” Now with the two I have I just let them out the door and let them do whatever because I can’t muster up any energy. It seems like the older I get, the worse things get.

I don’t want to get out of bed. I don’t want to open my eyes. I don’t want to socialize with others. When I agree to socialize with other people on a certain day and that day comes I start to wish and hope for them to cancel whatever plans we have already made.

Eyes closed, unconscious, dead to the world. That’s how I’d like to be right now. Instead I am in bed, typing this shit out, wishing for this life to be over because I’ve seen enough of it and what it has to offer (which isn’t much as far as I’ve been able to see.) Whatever happiness comes my way doesn’t stay for long and slips from my fingers within a short amount of time and it gets tiring. Happiness is such a tease.

People think that the new year is going to bring with it new opportunities, but it never does. It’s the same shit but with a different number attached to it. Bullshit 2019 will turn into Bullshit 2020 which will turn into Bullshit 2021 and so forth and so on. It’s ritualistic if you think about it. We all do the same thing over and over again and think nothing of it, and this is what we’re supposed to be happy about. Why?

What’s My Drug of Choice? Well, What Have You Got?

I remember reading a blog some time ago on another site by some old fuck that lives in her own little world and refuses to accept that the world changes, and she refuses to accept that sometimes people can’t help their situations. One particular blog of hers was about drug addiction, which was something she clearly knew nothing about. “People who use drugs have no one to blame but themselves. They had the choice to use drugs or not to use drugs and they chose to do it so they shouldn’t be helped.”

I was talking to my brother-in-law about this. We used the example of a party one time. No one goes to a party and just blurts out, “So who’s got heroin in this motherfucker?” A lot of the time heroin stems from an addiction to opiates, which are prescribed by doctors to manage pain. We as humans will find any way possible to eliminate the pain in our lives, whether it’s physical or emotional.

I started drinking and using pills when I was 19 or so. I’ve used coke, still smoke weed, drink occasionally (but have recently discovered that I can’t drink alone anymore. I won’t drink alone anymore.) Also, as I mentioned in my previous blog, I tripped on acid for the first time this past weekend. We’re all looking for ways to avoid, ignore, or eliminate pain. I don’t know too many people who become addicts because they’re happy. No one drinks alone because they’re entertaining happy thoughts. Those of us who use are trying to mask, hide, and again, eliminate pain. We’ll go through any lengths to do it.

I know what depression is like. I’ve struggled with it since my teens. It’s not something that’s easy to live with and it’s not something I’d wish on another person. Then again, maybe I would just so someone else could walk a day in my shoes to know what the pain is like. I commented on a friend of mine’s blog about depression, saying:

Sadness and depression are two very different things. I have felt sat before and I struggle with depression. Sadness is the loss of a job, the feeling you have after a fight with your partner, failing that test you studied so hard for.

Depression is wanting out. There is nothing to life and you go along every day and wonder why you still bother in the first place. It’s feeling that nothing is ever going to get better and dreading the days ahead. It’s sleeping the day away because you can’t bring yourself to face it. It’s just not wanting to play anymore as David Foster Wallace said in Infinite Jest. Nothing brings you joy but the nothingness of being unconscious somehow whether it’s from sleeping or being passed out from the night before.

It’s why we choose things that are bad for us to handle the pain. We drink, we do drugs, we try to numb the pain anyway we can because it’s physical and mental. You don’t feel anything when you’re on drugs. That’s the feeling we want … the feeling of not feeling at all.

It’s why so many who suffer from depression commit suicide. They want an out. They’re done with playing and have realized this life has nothing to give them.

I struggle every day with the feeling of not wanting to feel. I lie in bed and sleep for hours on end because I just don’t want to know what the day holds for me and I don’t care. I just want to be out of it. I want to be put into a coma so I won’t have to be dead, but I won’t have to deal with what’s going on in my mind anymore, either.

Knowing this, how could you say you don’t understand why people turn to drugs? It’s easier, faster, and sometimes cheaper than therapy.

You can’t understand a user’s mind
But try, with your books and degrees
If you let yourself go and opened your mind
I’ll bet you’d be doing like me and it isn’t so bad

Tripping on a Hole in a Paper Heart

I tripped on acid for the very first time in my life over the weekend. I’d always wanted to try psychedelics, but never knew anyone who had any. I wanted to start small with mushrooms or something along those lines, but when someone I knew said, “Hey. I’ve got some acid. Wanna drop some with me?” My immediate response was “Hell yeah!”

We each took the sugar cubes and I knew it’d take a while to kick in so we just kind of sat outside in the dark. I was taking in the surroundings, which I always do when I’m outside anyway. I live in a very secluded area. There are a lot of trees, forests, pastures, etc. The first thing I started to notice were the Christmas lights that were strung all along the neighbor’s fence to her property. They started to move up and down much like you would imagine a rollercoaster in motion. They started to form shapes and patterns the likes of which I’d never seen.

The darkness from before lifted and all I could see was colorful light. Bright lights that illuminated the grass, the trees, the sky. It was the sky splitting open and exposing its true self, very welcoming. I felt a wave of euphoria wash over me as I stared at my surroundings and took everything in. It was like someone had taken a paint brush and painted the world over, the colors spiraling out and back in and then out again.

I felt every bubble of the soda I was drinking going through my entire body, passing along each and every taste bud. I had to let the soda sit in my mouth for a moment because the feeling and taste were unlike anything I’d ever tried before. I stared into nature and allowed myself to experience the waves of energy that have always been there, but I could never perceive before. There is something all around us at all times that it can be difficult to perceive, but on acid, the other realms and dimensions that we exist in become easier to feel. The next day I felt a little drained emotionally, but I also felt cleansed at the same time.

That’s all I can say about my first trip. There was so much more to it, but I don’t know how I’d even begin to put it into words. I should have blogged at the exact moment I was tripping, but I don’t know if it would have made sense then either. If you’re thinking about trying it for the first time, do your research. I researched acid for a long time as I tossed the idea around in my head concerning whether or not I wanted to try it. I’m glad I did, and I’d happily do it again.

LSD score: 10 out of 10. Would try again.