I should form a band called " The Disease "
Anyhow, I am back again for what probably appears as more bitching and whining, but is really my feeble attempt at self-expression. As with any journal entry I try to write these days, I never know where to begin. Well, for a while I've been in this God-awful funk that I can't seem to get out of no matter what I do. Everything in life (including the words I am writing right now) seems so fucking pointless. I was reading my psychology book from Quinsigamond (~laughs bitterly~), and I read a section about what's called the " Crisis of Question " which is a stage that people go through while developing. It said that during this stage, people frequently ask " Is this it? Is this what life is about?...........Seriously? " They begin to doubt their position in life, become dissatisfied in their marriages, and kill themselves. Well, suicide isn't really a part of it, but I thought I'd throw it in for dramatic effect. They may make career changes, pursue different hobbies, and test out different lifestyles to see if there is one that can make them feel like life isn't a waste of time, as the lifestyle they're living used to do. That is exactly what I am experiencing right now. Minus the career change because I don't have one, and changing the word " marriage " to " relationship. " It's not that I'm not happy with Steve, it's just that my love life seems like every other fucking thing does; pointless, gray, and dull. Anyway, the weird thing about me going through the " Crisis of Question " stage is that it doesn't usually hit until people are in their late thirties and early forties. I keep reminding myself of things that generally make people excited to be alive, but even those things I once dreamed of (having children, for example) just seem.....muted, in a way. I just don't care anymore. What's the point? I don't even feel much anymore. Well, that's not exactly true, but I don't get excited and I never get an adrenaline rush from anything anymore. One of the things I've realized is that I didn't really start feeling like this until I stopped doing drugs. I still get high once in a while, but not anywhere near as much as I used to. Which is good, but at the same time, it really sucks. I think that part of the reason nothing seems as good as it used to is that everything seemed so much better on drugs. I keep trying to tell myself that the longer I stay away from them, the better things will seem, but the fact that it's been months and nothing's changed kind of discourages me from actually pursuing that. It's like, I won't be feeling anything, I'll smoke pot or something, and then I'll feel great, but as soon as it wears off, I'm right back where I was and nothing seems worth anything anymore. I'm missing out on those natural highs where something exciting happens and I get an adrenaline rush. Life is like one big anticlimactic event after another. I'm afraid it'll stay like this. I don't want to fucking live like this. It doesn't help that ever since I finally left high school, the place I so despised while I was there, I've been wanting to go back. It was such an amazing safety bubble. It didn't prepare me for the real world at all. In that bubble, you can fuck up as many times as possible, and there's always something to fall back on. In the real world, a phrase I finally understand, if you fuck up, then that's it. You fucked up, and you're on your own to do what needs to be done to fix things. Know one knows how truly lucky they are to be there until they're out. It sucks. I really can't figure out how to begin my next subject. Let me start out by saying, I know someone who has a crush on someone who it is literally impossible to be with. This person gets upset because he/she feels it's pathetic. Well, if that person happens to read this, I have a message. You may think that's pathetic, but consider this.....well, hang on. Like you, I don't mention this to ANYONE anymore (and mean anyone- not Steve, not anyone who was around me while I was going through it before, and not even my therapist), because what more is there to say about it, and as far as " accomplishing " it goes, I'm as fucked as I ever was, if not more, and for the fact that although I think about it often, I'd rather not drag it to the fucking surface bringing with it an inevitable tornado of emotion that will surely push me towards suicide (again). Now that I am writing about it, I am starting to cry because....well, considering who you are, you'll understand why, and I needn't waste my time searching for an explanation. How pathetic/bad is it that even now, two years later, I still think about the person I was in love with for three years in high school? And not just in casual passing thought every once in a while, either. Just back then, it is many times a day every single fucking day. I don't want to say I haven't given up hope.....well, alright, I'll admit that I haven't, but I still have enough sense not to pursue it more than I already did because I'm sure the result would be frighteningly similar to those in the movie " The Crush. " You know; the one with Alicia Silverstone and Cary Elwes? But anyway, I just wanted to let you know that you are not alone in the place your heart takes you that makes you say, " Wow! Maybe suicide really IS a good idea!?! " Well, maybe you don't feel that way, and it's only through denial and surpression that I don't feel that way, but I know that thought is in my head somewhere. Anyway, that's all for right now. Peace.

Burned Out