I am opening at the coffee shop today which means that I set my alarm for 3:45 am.
Right now it is 2 am. I should not be awake.
But a dog barked. A car alarm went off. A siren blared down my neighborhood street. An incredibly drunk man could not find his lighter and loudly accosted his friend of stealing it.
So I am awake almost two hours before I need to be.
But let's be honest. That's not why I am awake.
Yesterday, my mom sent me a text telling me how much she is worried about me and how much she wishes I was willing to talk and tell her what's going on.
This struck me as a surprise because I didn't know I was unwilling to talk.
I was also not aware that I was in some apparent danger or emotional crisis.
But when a few hours later, a friend that seems to have uncanny intuition sent me a similar text, I began to think maybe there is something wrong.
And so I looked down and saw the giant gaping wound bleeding out into the water.
I am not okay. It is possible that I am less okay than I have ever been. It is certainly a different kind of "not okay" than I have experienced recently; it is not the kind where I can tell myself it's temporary and will soon pass.
Here's why I am freaking out (in no particular order):
I am a person that desperately needs structure. I have said that college has literally saved my life and it is true. It was the rigour and discipline and daily schedule that kept me moving even when things are at their worst. With that structure in place, I could push through or at the very least distract myself enough to survive for another hour, another day.
Now outside of work, my time is completely my own. I do not have to be anywhere. I do not have to do anything. This worries me. Not because of anything now, but because of when the dark times come. My worrying about this has brought in the dark times.
Another thing that is getting me, probably a far bigger thing than the last, is that I now exist in the abyss.
I am a planner and a dreamer. I like having my next steps laid out in front of me. And though I have thought about what I will do after college, none of those things have fallen into place the way I would have liked them to. There is no plan right now. There is no clear path. It feels like when in old cartoons Bugs Bunny (or whoever) is being chased and ends up running off the cartoon background into blank white space.
My entire world is blank white space. It is unsettling. I am desperately seeking some grounding.
And here is where I will lay out my most pessimistic concern:
My adult life so far has been beset with bad decisions, deep and lasting poverty, remarkably poor health, and increasing isolation. Every time of change so far has only increased my suffering in some way.
And what, this is all supposed to magically change now that I have graduated college? This, I think, is why I have been so troubled with my parent's constant talk of getting a good job.
I have no reason to ever expect anything good to come my way.
And I know I shouldn't think like that. That my thoughts and attitudes do manifest themselves in my reality. But fuck, I am scared. I am surrounded by people who are congratulating me and telling me I have accomplished something and who believe my future is bright,
but my body is tense and bracing itself for whatever new suffering is about to hit me.
But, my mind tells me, things have gotten better.
Last night my old professor and mentor lent me his old car for the winter and will possibly sell it to me for cheap.
I created a GoFundMe to help me pay my rent and survive the transition from school to the work force and raised $2,000. This is incredibly helpful. My bills have been paid. My refrigerator has actual food in it for the first time in months.
But it also feels like I have used up my "phone-a-friend" lifeline. That this is a well I will not be able to go to again anytime soon. That if I do not find myself in a place of financial security in the near future, I will have nowhere to turn.
And what makes this especially troubling is that I know now more than ever that all I want to do is write. I have a perspective and maybe a tiny bit of wisdom to offer the world and am feeling deeply impatient to share it.
I know I have a year and a half before I can even start my masters program and then another two to three years before I finish. I don't want to wait that long to write when I have a book forming inside me now.
But I also know that the chances of me selling a historical work without the right credentials will be difficult if not impossible.
I also know that because I want to do nothing but write, any non-writing job I get now (no matter how well it pays) will be something I despise. Especially if it kills the time and energy I have to write.
So in short, I need financial security (desperately) but also the personal liberty to pursue fulfilling projects. It seems I have to choose one or the other. And in reality, neither are certain or even all that likely.
I feel like I am in the exact same place I was when I started college, but now am older and more poor and more sick and more alone.
Though there are a lot of other small things circling around my head right now, I will close with this last thing.
When I think about my future wife (I was tempted to put a TM there like dangerspouse does), I think about the qualities that she will have to possess by necessity. She will have to be so patient and courageous and willing to wade through the psychological damage and trauma I have experienced plus the gigantic walls I have erected to protect myself.
I need someone who sees me clearly, and not only decides to stay with me in spite of that, but is also strong enough to hold that space and carry me when I am resisting.
And the thought that I am going to find that through the internet or just asking out some cute girl that I meet at work seems kind of absurd. As I said, I have no reason to expect anything good to come to me. With this aspect of my life especially, I have lost the desire to even try.
I guess everything I have written this morning comes down to trust.
I need to trust that things will fall into place.
I need to have faith that God or the universe or whatever will tend to my needs. That this is all happening for a reason.
But I don't know if I can believe that.
A few nights ago, I accidentally but majorly overdosed on some cannabis tincture.
I was so high that I was paralyzed and couldn't move at all and for several hours just lay there vomiting all over myself. I was worried I was going to choke on my vomit and die. I could not get to my phone. I could not have called someone or talked even if I could. I was truly afraid that this was my last night on earth.
And as embarrassed as I was to be found like that, naked and soiled in bed, I was at least glad things were finally over. No more struggle. No more pressure. No more pain.
But the next morning, I woke up and washed my sheets.
For better or worse, I am still alive.
And that's kind of all I have right now.
The only reason I have to stay alive is a desire to not cause pain to the ones that love me. I do not know if that is enough.
2:04 a.m. - 2016-12-23
Recent entries:
Bari - 2017-01-04
Resolution - 2016-12-29
That Ended Quick. - 2016-12-29
Allyson - 2016-12-28
Bodhisattva - 2016-12-26
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