Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Short on time

There are instances in my life where I feel I am short on time, and I have no idea how to quell that feeling. I'm only 28, but that's 28/?. Could be 28, could be 128, or any number in between the two. Maybe it's a feeling of being wasteful with my life, or a nervous anticipation of what I will actually accomplish. But, I still cannot shake this nagging feeling that it's evaporating far too quickly for my taste.

Thursday, July 31, 2014

Counting backwards while the stars are falling

"and nowhere else has ever felt like home
and i can't fall asleep when i'm lying here alone
i replay your voice, it's like you're here
you moved the earth, but now the sky is falling..."

Anberlin really know how to cut to the heart.

I have this flaw where I have (have, HAVE) to analyze problems and try to find the fatal flaw on my end. Even in innocuous social situations, if I make a mistake I spend a portion of time going over the event in my head, trying to decide how I'd handle the situation better. The flawed part of this is I do it in situations where I don't even make mistakes, just where I want to be better. It's an obsessive perfectionist trait that drives me up the wall. Even the simplest things (such as proper sentence inflection) distract and beat up my tired mind in this situation. Can you imagine saying nothing wrong but only wishing you had said it a tiny bit differently, with different emphasis on the same words?

It's chaotic. And that's just a simple example. Currently, I'm examining the past several years and trying to figure out where and what I've changed. What is the Jester of 2014 that he was not in '13, '12, etc. On the surface, I feel as though I've become a much better person, both through my relationship with my fiancee and my work experiences in management/leadership roles. I feel as though I've learned to handle tension, stress, anxiety, and conflict much better than I had in my early 20s. I feel as though I've learned to be a better friend, sibling, and lover. I would never claim to be perfect and without error, but I feel like I've done a lot to get a LOT better since my teens.

So, what is it? What is my defect? What am I doing wrong? I wish this was some sort of video game where a little (!) would pop up and give me a hint. It's a ridiculous fantasy, but I'd love some help. The big problem is I don't want to confide my problems with a bunch of people. In my mind, there should just be one or two people who can perfectly diagnose my illness and find me a solution. A problem-doctor friend. Unfortunately those things don't exist, because although our problems may be similar we are alllllllllllll different.

The unfortunate issue with all that? It put's the onus back on me. My mind is encumbered with the task of figuring it all out. Generally, I'd trust my lady to help me through these things, but what do I do when it's us who are fractured? I just don't know. And I hate to act like I'm a saint and point the finger at others, but I truly believe that I am not entirely in the wrong right now. The more and more I think about it, the more I see flaws on the other end. Issues that I had overlooked in the past. Things that I complacently pushed aside are now gleaming in front of me like a neon harbinger.

I refuse to believe that the damage is irreparable. But I cannot force myself to look the other way when the problems are suddenly so obvious. The question seems to be: can we work through this together? I've got duct tape and glue and a hammer and nails, but will that be enough? Let it never be said that the Jester of the 2010's was unwilling to work towards change for the better.

I suppose we'll see. I suppose I'll see. The biggest downside of all is that I have to WAIT and continue to hurt while waiting. Alas.

Sunday, July 27, 2014

Daymares and Nightmares

if I could remember the month of July for any major reason (or perhaps... I would like to forget July because of...), it would be the astounding amount of nightmares that I've had this month.

They aren't my usual fighting with parents nightmares either. I've ran away from trouble, ran to trouble, and killed several people. Imagine that? Killing people in your dreams. People you don't even know! I had a few troubling dreams where I had to choose between two bad situations with no clear positive solution. I don't usually get into physical altercations in my sleep, but I did this month. The fact that I was seemingly forced to hurt people really bothered me when I woke up.

It got to the point that I was forcing myself to stay up later and later, fighting off exhaustion rather than dealing with my troubled subconscious. There were a few other interesting dreams sprinkled in - I had a dream that one of my co-workers was playing on the LPGA and she was mic'd up for an event to the point that I was falling out of my seat laughing. And then last night I had a dream that I was hanging out with one of my best friends and we were at her girlfriend's house... and she slipped on a strap-on and we started banging her girlfriend. I woke up before she could fellate me, and I think I probably forced that upon me. Obviously her dream girlfriend was someone I didn't know (it always it when it comes to sexuality in my dreams), but coming close to something like that while sleeping always seems to snap me awake.

I'm still tired, and have been taking a lot of naps to make up for the fact that I haven't been sleeping at night. The issue with that is that I seem to have those same episodes in my short napping periods as well. They don't snap me awake per se, but there was one that I had a few weeks ago that woke me with such a serious headache that I couldn't sleep or concentrate for many hours following. And look at me now, writing a blog at 1:30 in the morning because my body won't let me doze off.

Perhaps August will be better.

Saturday, July 19, 2014


There are some days where I simply cannot go on. I try to keep a hard shell over myself in life, but when it breaks it's a free-fall into darkness. There are times where I feel like it's a continual plummet. No landing, no end in sight - just falling.

The scary part is the inability to land. I almost feel as though it would be preferable to smack into the ground at the bottom of the pit rather than continue to sink and spiral out of control.  It's almost as though, rather than breaking my soul is stretching and shredding as it stretches. There's no snap to the elasticity, it just keeps digging through.

It sucks. I can't think of a better adjective for the feeling at the moment. The worst part is it is a literal darkness, where no one notices. It's not a plea for help, but at my lowest point I know that I need some shoulders to carry me back up to the place where I can see the light again.

One of the things I dislike the most about it is how stupid I feel. The fact that I am shattered into smithereens by practically nothing. It's as if my soul has a rotating Achilles heel and you just need to find the right spot to pierce me. The catch is that I have no idea where it is until it's already too late. How idiotic is that? "Welp, I could die at any moment for essentially no reason; oh wells".

Damn it, I'm lonely. When does this end?

Thursday, July 10, 2014

how long is a life


i constantly have panic attacks revolving around dying, and i frequently want to die.

masochist? no. lunatic? perhaps. short-sighted? i cannot imagine. with these two things juxtaposed, it would seem i could be infinite. or just forever terrified.

i never wonder why i have headaches. i know i cannot live.

Saturday, July 5, 2014


I have the dubious distinction of actually "attending" four different high schools in four years. My fiancee does at well, but her circumstances are slightly different. One she had to leave because of vicious bullying and another because it closed. In my face, I spent my freshman year home-schooled, my sophomore year going to a home-school co-op and being home-schooled, half of my junior year I went to the school in the area I grew up in, half at a boarding school in Virginia, and just before my senior year we moved to the city in which I now reside. Usually I think of it in jest, but now that it's 10 year reunion time, I find myself feeling a bit empty.

I was home-schooled after 6th grade. My last memories of that school were the jocks relentless teasing. I didn't officially graduate from there (leaving my Jr year) but I know the majority of the people in my class. I "know" them but I don't have many fond memories. And my three best friends from that class were also social outcasts and they would want no part of such things. It was actually the opposite when I got to the 'Burg. I was a fun-loving smart kid who was seemingly normal. I made surface friends but only really developed relationships with a few people. In fact, I'm actually better friends with juniors, sophomores and freshman from there.

So here I sit on the night of the former's reunion. I never knew about it, and I probably wouldn't have gone. Andi has been bugging me to go to the latter, but I literally know 4 seniors from there. Four! Yugh. It makes me feel like years 14-18 were wasted when I think about things like that.

I was actually thinking about it on vacation (see last entry). I had a 10 page essay flying through my head about all of my high school issues, but I decided to put it to rest.  Perhaps I'll start writing again...

Tuesday, June 24, 2014


In reality, what the hell is normal? What the hell is normal, anyways? Who decides what life really is? Who, besides myself, decides what life really is?

What is real? What is really, real?
Life is what I believe it is.
Life is what I believe it is, at 3:37am.

Who do I believe? Who do I believe I am?