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War All The Time
|Make It Happen
|These new medicines are slowly worming their way into my bloodstream. It is like a pharmacological tide, rising and falling, and my sense of well being with it. It might be weeks until it reaches its appropriate level. That's ok, just let it keep slowly improving.|
I stayed up late last night talking to my mom about this ordeal. She is a nurse, so she has a better realistic opinion on medical matters, and it's comforting to have her tell me to knock it off when I get too worked up for no reason. In the conversation last night when I was spouting out psychobabble and complaints about my physical feelings, she said "Why don't you write it all down?"
I told her I already do. I'm not sure if should could handle reading it though. She knows I am hurting, and she knows I am having a really hard time, but I don't know if any parent should ever get that deep into their child's mind. Privacy issues aside, that would just hurt way too much to hear in graphic detail the way they are suffering. I don't mind other people reading what I have to say, because I want to help people understand what I am going through, and what a lot of other people are going through; people who don't write, people who don't have an outlet. There is such a misunderstanding and lack of compassion and care for people struggling with mental health issues. So if I can ever write anything that makes somebody feel a little bit better, or a slightly less alone, then I am satisfied.
That being said, I'm really considering going through my old paper notebooks, old blogs, and the things I have written currently and condensing all of them. I haven't opened those old books in a long, long time, and I'm afraid of what emotions might come off of those pages. There are a lot of people and events I have tried to push out of my mind, for one reason for another. Maybe living those moments again would be a good thing. We'll just have to wait and see.
I finished my two hardest finals today, and that is a good feeling. Almost done with this joke of a semester. Then it will be time for myself. Joe time. I am going to heal, somehow. I am going to make things so much better.
I've put so much faith in you. Please, don't let me down. Either way, I'm going to feel like an idiot. I just hope I can feel that way with a smile on my face. If not, that's alright as well, and I wish you the best.
|Tags: journal, late night converstion, medication, help, mental, confused, i'm an idiot
|New Year's Project
|The rain outside is peaceful. In Georgia, there has been a severe shortage of rain in the past few months. In myself, there has been a severe shortage of several things. Happiness, laughter, sleep, comfort, safety, calmness, inspiration, concentration. There is a greater need for all of these things. Christmas lights glisten against the concrete. They are welcoming, and they are attractive. They portray a false sense of optimism, joy, and cheer. There is a sickness inside of me that is preventing me from experiencing any of this. |
People look at the lights and they have no thought whatsoever of the people who have placed them there. There are people behind those lights. There are souls, there are emotions, there are interactions, and there are feelings.
Behind these lights, I am enveloped in a blanket of sickness, sadness, and fear. There is a sneaking suspicion that my Christmas emotions will be lackluster. As a child, I wish somebody had forced pen and paper upon me, demanding that I write down the things that made me laugh and smile. There should have been somebody there to help me document that happiness. I have so few recollections of things in my childhood that bring a warmth to my body when I think of them. Being hard to please is one thing. Being unable to feel the regular, expected emotions that others are feeling is a completely different demon.
The absence of pleasure or the ability to experience it.
Perhaps it is not that severe, but I am unsure if I am the one who should be passing judgment on my own emotional shortcomings. This doesn't go without saying I have had moments of beauty. There are some events I have experienced so spectacular that it brings tears to my eyes describing them. These moments are few and far between, and maybe that's the way they are supposed to stay.
I appreciate things more now than I ever have, but there is still so much in my life I am trying to fix, and there is so much more that I want to experience and enjoy. Once I can get past the obstacles I am currently dealing with, I feel as if there is an entirely new "me" to experience. So much love to give. So much laughter to share. An endless amount of memories to make. Countless faces and places to be a part of. I am over being a small town nothing. I am done with that. I am ready. I will be rescued.
I am brainstorming the pages for a very exciting and promising portion of my life. I hope that I can turn my current situation around sooner, rather than later, and then my pen can touch the paper, and those pages can start to be written. I will write them fast and fierce, with the passion that has been building inside of me, screaming to be put to use.
It is going to be a beautiful story. You won't want to miss it.
It might even make me smile.
On a side note, once again I sincerely want to thank the people who write me comments, or send me a message. Some of you have said such wonderful things to me that it brought tears to my eyes, and that is amazing, because until recently I had cried maybe once in two years. Your words help, truly, they do. If you ever want to hear more or know more, just message or IM me, I'll get to you. You mean more than you know.
|Tags: journal, hopeful, love, life, optimism, i'm going to be fucking happy one day
|This Side Of Brightness
|i do not expect any eloquence, sense, or sympathy to come from this. i had to write something down. all these thoughts constantly spinning throughout my head consume me more than i can express, so if typing into this sterile white box does anything to ease how i am feeling, i will do it.|
i don't know if people read these. if you do, thank you. if you do, i'm sorry. i'm sure i am painting a picture of a highly damaged individual. you might tell me things can always be worse. i know that. i'm hoping they won't be.
there rarely goes by a moment the past couple of weeks where I am not completely convinced I am about to die. every little leap and twitch of my heart, or any sensation anywhere else in my body,completely drives me insane. like i said before, doctor after doctor has told me I am physically ok. i cannot believe them. i feel like they must have missed something. everything is a symptom of the anxiety, they say. it will get better, we just have to treat it.
i just tried to take a shower. i closed my eyes, started to rinse the shampoo out of my hair. i feel it kick in. my body tightens, my chest feels heavy, it is hard to swallow, and now my heart is slamming against my chest. the soap is getting in my eyes. a million thoughts cross through my mind, none of them positive. i quickly rinse off and step out of the shower, attempting to regain what little composure i have. my heart rate is fast. i feel sick. i want to vomit. i think i'm dying again. my mind is so in tune to every fucking feeling that i experience, and it is terrifying.
i don't know what i'm anxious over. i used to know, and i was ok with things then. i had gone through a breakup, i had been drinking way too much, and i figured it was ok my body was revolting against me. i set myself up for this, i did the damage, so now i must go on the repair. and then i thought i got better. now, things have started back again. it's more frightening though, since instead of just a fast heartrate (which doesn't even always happen) i just have an irregular beat at random times throughout the day. this new symptom has thrown a kink into my already analyzed panic attack routine. i had become used to feeling a panic attack coming on, my heart beating at 140bpm, taking a pill, and then spacing out and eventually relaxing. now, it makes me feel like there is one more thing wrong with me, and that at any moment it could be deadly. i do not know if i'm afraid of having a heart attack, my heart stopping, or something along those lines, i just know it feels awful. i'm told it's a harmless symptom, even in people who don't have anxiety. 3 million americans at any given moment are dealing with an ireggular heartbeat. people with anxiety and panic disorders experience this symptom as well as many others, including the crippling fear that something horrible is about to come unto them.
i just want to feel better. i want something to reassure me i am ok. that i am going to be ok. i want to stop crying in front of my mom because i'm so scared. i want to be able to not have to have somebody sleep in the living room with me because i'm too afraid to be alone in my room. i want to sleep calmly, and wake up feeling better, and not worry about how unpleasant i am going to feel during the day. i want to see my friends. i want to live my life how i used to. i want it to be better. it can be now. i've learned so much. i could cry my eyes out to you telling you how many beautiful things i have realized. call me, talk to me. i will cry, and i will tell you stories of enlightenment. i will put things into a perspective you cannot understand. i will cry. i will cry. i am crying.
this is what is on my mind essentially every waking hour of every single day. i don't know how i got this fucked up, and i'm getting scared that i'm not going to be able to be fixed. i have another doctors appointment in a few days. i'm worried he will just be another name and face telling me nothing is really wrong, and i will have to go on and fight this battle by myself even longer. i hope he can help. i need someone to help. i do not mind these milligrams playing their games in my bloodstream. i welcome them. i just want them to work. i miss how things were before this. i was the guy in the room making everyone smile, laugh, forget about their problems. i was the entertainer. i was an amazing friend. now i am a hermit. now i feel broken.
to everyone who has helped me out, or dropped a kind word, or said "I understand" I want to thank you. you don't know how much it matters just to hear somebody say that they're their for you, or that they care, or to make you laugh, or to tell you something sweet. i can't put it into words how incredible of people you are. Lilly, Steve, Anna, anyone else I can't think of right now.
thank you so much. when i get better, i'm going to make it up to you guys like you can't even imagine.
we will make it. we will turn the cycle around.
when you wake up tomorrow, i want you to take a deep deep breathe, and let it out slowly.
i want you to smile, even if it hurts.
and i want you to know that it will be okay.
|Tags: panic, anxiety, medication, journal, rambling
|Traditionally, they say ďYou donít know what youíve got ítil itís gone.Ē|
It seems for me the situation is reversed. I know whatís there, but I cannot have it. I know how things could be, but I cannot make them happen. There will be no gone, because there is no got. It is a beautiful irony to be shown something terrific, but to have it out of reach. I am a child alone in a toy store at Christmas time, and I notice something particularly interesting on the shelf. Itís the thing Iíve been waiting for all year. Itís the one thing that will make the end of the year shine with optimism and cancel out the disappointment the previous months have brought me. But I cannot reach. People watch. People see me struggle. Nobody will help me. Nobody is helping me. Why does nobody ever help me? I climb, I climb, I climb. The shelf is too high. The other shoppers push by, knocking into me, and I lose my balance. I fall. They say, ďJust find another toy, son, there is an entire store full of them. Whatís so special about that one, anyways?Ē
No. This is the one I want. Just this one, please. Please.
I see something incredible in you. The quirks, the habits, the expressions, the laughter, the words. They add up to something I havenít see in anyone in a long time. I donít know where you came from, or how you found me, or why you want me. I had given up on everyone else, and I had given up on myself. I was broken. I am broken. I am jaded. I am scared. Of all the times for this to begin, it begins when I am crumbling; when I am at my worst; when I am falling to pieces all over again, in front of everyone, including myself, and nothing is changing. Nothing is getting better. Iím sorry.
I really feel this is wonderful. There is a reason for this. There has to be. I want there to be. I donít want this to be some casual encounter, and I donít want to be a person that is brushed off or disregarded. I feel stupid. I feel naive. I feel immature. I feel good. I feel wanted. I laugh. I smile. I daydream. I miss you, even though Iím not sure if I should. These feelings are quite the contrary from the numbness I had wrapped myself in for so long. It feels better than anything Iíve felt in such a fucking long time. I try to push away the reality of the situation and remain in the cocoon of loving words and affection, pretending things are how I want them to be. I think you probably deserve better than this. Than me. I wonder why you feel the way you do.
I am terrified of the potential this has. But I refuse to live my life based on ďWhat ifís?Ē
It is painfully obvious how bad I want this.
Maybe I can blame it all on the medication.
|These mood swings are excruciating. The withdrawal symptoms will probably get worse over the next few days. I am shaking. My head hurts. My chest feels heavy. I cannot eat. I cannot sleep. I want to throw up, but there is nothing to throw up. I feel empty. I feel overwhelmed. I feel too much. |
There is a need to cry, although I have no reason. There is a need to cry, although I have every reason.
I am fighting, although I do not know the conditions of victory. I do not know if this is a losing battle. I am looking for a truce. A treaty. A white flag. An armistice with myself. None of these will come.
I do not want to do this alone, but I do not believe I have an option. I was never given an option.
|Soul Meets Body
|This feels all too familiar.|
5 am this morning I ended up on my way to the ER. A combination of irregular heartbeat, dizziness, and an unreal panic attack were enough to send me on my way to the hospital. It was nearly on par, if not worse in some respects, with my first panic attack that landed me in the hospital over a year ago.
Here I sat in a small room, with random people attaching different devices to me. Everything is beeping. I am breathing fast. My skin is burning. My head is spinning. My heart does not feel right. I swear I am dying. I wonder why there seems to be no urgency in the actions of the people around me. How can the attendant ask me these mundane questions and take notes when I'm seemingly on the edge of consciousness? It is difficult to describe how it feels at times.
My heart rate is up to nearly 150 beats per minute. I feel miserable. I want to run. I want to scream. I want to sleep. I want somebody to inject me with something. Something is wrong. Something is wrong.
I lay on a cold, hard bed, staring at a bright white light above me. The room is shallow and uninviting. The beeping of the electronics only further aggravates me. A girl is attaching wires to my body. They are cold. I am dizzy. A man puts an IV into my arm. My mouth fills with a sour taste. Another girl begins to draw blood from my arm. I watch the needle slide into my skin, and I feel the sting. The blood flows into the vial. She takes another. She takes another.
I refuse to look at the numbers on the machine I am attached to, too afraid to see the reality of the situation I am in.
This is hell.
Minutes pass. Doctors come and go. People walk by, and smile lightly. I am not smiling. I am not anything. I want this to stop. I am shaking. I am cold. I am scared.
A long time ago I wrote about how I felt the first time something like this happened. It is pure terror. People have fears, and people have worries. Those are nothing compared to this. This is an instantaneous jolt of pure horror throughout your body for no apparent reason. This is your own mortality being shoved back into your face. People think they are invincible. I cannot do this.
The emotions I am feeling at this time are overwhelming. There is a need to scream, and there is a need to cry. Fear is the initial reaction to believing that something is wrong, and that your life is in danger. As the panic subsides, the fear begins to wane, and other feelings fill the void. While I cannot lie and say that I was not afraid of what I was feeling, I will say that it was not the strongest emotion I was experiencing.
Disappointment. I was so disappointed. I turn 22 next week. I am too young for this. I do not deserve this. They lied. They told me I was ok. They were supposed to make sure. I believed them. I trusted them. It's too late.
Faces and names run through my mind. I wonder what they will think. I wonder how they will feel. I think about the things I will never see, and the things I will never do. I will not hear my favorite songs. I will not make it to California. I will not make it to New York. I will not play with my dog. I will not graduate. I will not enjoy a weekend of football. I will not make my friends laugh. I will not brighten somebody's day. I will not smell the ocean. I will not fall in love again. I will not grow old.
4 hours later, I remain on the bed. The fear has subsided for the most part. The doctor has gone over everything, and concluded yet again there is nothing physically wrong with me. Something else is triggering this. Terrific. This is not a broken bone that you can wrap. This is not a cut that you can apply pressure to. This is something else. Here we go again.
Once more, I am coming off of one medication, while becoming accustomed to another. I do not know what the trade off is. At the moment, I feel miserable. I feel cold. I feel sick. I feel anything other than healthy. I try not to worry about each little sensation I feel. I try to have faith in the people who have been assigned to resolve this situation. I hope I can do this again. I do not want to, but I do not have a choice. This is going to hurt. This is going to be hard.
I have realized I need more things in my life. I know there are people out there I can be happy around. I wish I was in a position to go out and find them. There are things on my mind that have not been on my mind for a very long time, and they are things that I doubted I would ever think or feel again. To want something that you know you cannot have, that you know would be amazing, is a difficult circumstance to wrestle with. This is going to hurt. This is going to be hard.
Moments like these give me incredible instances of clarity. I have such an apprecation for things I would have once overlooked. The past year and a half has been a traumatic awakening. I am breaking. I am broken. I am ready to heal. I know so many people who take so much for granted. Their lives and relationships are one large collaboration of routine and insincerity. They will never realize this. They will never experience a fragment of what I have. They will never understand. I envy them. I pity them. I miss them. I love them. I'm sorry.
This feels all too familiar.
|Midtown Contest and Other Shit
|So I'm one of 13 people in the final Midtown contest for the banner and prize packs. We'll be getting the hint at some point today.|
Unfortunately I'm going to be in and out of hospitals/doctors officers today, and won't really count on being around to get this when it comes out. I dunno, maybe I'll get lucky.
I'm still pretty sure I love Midtown more than anyone else in the contest.
Today is definitely a Forget What You Know kind of day. It's amazing that how when everything else in your life is falling apart, you still have music there to make you not feel entirely alone. That's why I love it, and that's why I need it. Music fills the gaps in my life, and right now there are a lot of them.
I really hope things turn out ok. I can honestly say I'm scared, and that rarely happens.
Everyday the same joke
I never think it's funny
Nothing's ever what it seems
The truth becomes a dream
And we reach for what we're missing in ourselves
|Tags: emo, midtown, nervous
|Losing A Whole Year
|Some things change, and some don't. It seems that the things you want to change, don't; but the things you don't want to change, do. That's how life has been going for me for maybe the past year or so now.|
I am ready for a big change. There is so much more out there than what I am living and dealing with in this bullshit town. I have been here for way too long, and I have no clue why I didn't leave when I should have, or why I still haven't.
I think I'm an idiot.
I'm also pretty sure that I have forgotten what it's like to care about somebody else. Everyone has come and gone. Mostly gone. There are just so few people in my life that mean anything to me, and that is not good. There aren't that many here to choose from. If I could fix one thing, that would be it. Unfortunately that isn't something you can just suddenly change.
Although things have been pretty rough, I've learned more than I ever thought I would, and I suppose in a sense that makes things worth it. You can't appreciate the sweet without the sour.
Surprisingly there are some good plans for this weekend. Let's hope they work out.
|Emery - I'm Only A Man - Review
|Tate did one of those big track by track initial impression blogs awhile back, so I figured I would do the same with the new Emery release. There's not a whole lot to say, so let's get to the songs....|
I like the intro to Rock N Rule. That is, until you get a random blare of what seems to be a broken bugle. The crashing introduction and guitar riff is awesome until all flow is disrupted by that random sound bit. The vocals donít seem to be mixed high enough, as the guitars clash with them, and there is next to no clarity. Once again, the fast guitar riff, one might call it almost swanky, sounds great. Thankfully this time there is no broken horned instrument. The screaming and gang vocals sounds surprisingly good, and is the most classic Emery element thus far. The song ends much better than it began.
The Party Song! Awhile back I said this should have been an Andrew W.K. b-side. I stand by this statement. Not many bands can pull off lyrics about being at a party, or even using the word party, and I do not believe that Emery is one of those bands. With lyrics such as ďGet your party onnnn!Ē and ďYou got kicked out of your motherís house, you stole money from her purse,Ē I really wonder where the hell these lyrics came from; Maybe an episode of 7th Heaven. Musically, I like this track as well. The sound and structure is great, the lyrics are not.
World Away sounds ďlighterĒ than the previous tracks. Itís not very intense, and almost sounds dance line at some parts. To be honest, this could have been a Maroon 5 song. The lyrics are once again, very simple, and repetitive. Not a bad track, but nothing special.
After The Devil Beats His Wife starts off with a fast mix of vocals and crashing instruments. Once again, the vocals blend in way too much with the music, and aside from the parts that are sung with no music in the background, there is next to no clarity. I have no idea what the lyrics in this song are about. Other than ďThis is the pain of believing,Ē I can hardly even remember what heís said in this song. Not catchy in the least. At 2 and a half minutes into the song, I have lost complete interest, and around 3 minutes in there is a lot of unnecessary screaming. Blah.
Can't Stop The Killer starts off good, with the best lyrics of the album so far. The vocals sound great (this is probably because there is only a light guitar strumming in the background, and you can actually hear them.) The song picks up, the rest of the band joins in, and then the song goes absolutely nowhere. We get some robot-like synthesized vocals, and the build-up is completely killed. Once again, halfway through the song I am completely disinterested. The vocals get louder, the drums get faster, rinse, repeat.
Story About A Man With A Bad Heart sounds the same as the other songs so far. They are singing about going out and having dinner and drinking. Iím not sure when it became cool to sing about menial, everyday occurrences. Another track that has random screaming towards the end. The vocals sound absolutely terrible at the end, kind of like Say Anything, but really, really bad.
WHAT THE HELL AM I LISTENING TO? The intro to Donít Bore Us, Get To the Chorus is completely atrocious. I have no clue how this is pleasurable to the ears, or who the hell thought it would be a good idea to start off the track with screaming munchkins. Thereís some lyrics about high school, and then it turns into a Forever The Sickest Kids song, with electronic drum beats and hand claps. I really like Forever The Sickest Kids. I do not like this song.
What Makes A Man A Man starts off as a slow acoustic song, and gains some dynamics. The song is pretty dull until the end, where the dual vocals finally shine for the first time on this album. Other than that, not that great of a song.
The Movie Song starts off with some more terrible lyrics. This is really turning me off, and I want to listen to something else at this point. This song sounds the same as the earlier songs on the album. Thereís a lot of ďwhoa whoaĒ going on, and some more random screaming. It kind of sounds like a Mewithoutyou song at some points. I donít mean that in a good way.
You Think Youíre The Nickel Slick (But I Got Your Penny Change) has the worst track title on the album, but sounds alright. Itís one of the least aggravating songs, if that tells you anything. Almost every song on this album is structured exactly the same.
From Crib To Coffin sounds like every other song on this cd. If I wasn't looking at which song was playing, I would swear it was the same song 10 times, or one 50 minute song that sounds the same. It ends with what appears to be the menu music from an NES game. This song is anything but epic. I am now depressed.
I'm gonna go ahead and say it, this album sucks. Emery has been one of my favorite bands for a long, long time. With this release, Iím not sure what to feel. I know bands change, but this is undoubtedly a change for the worse. I think most people are going to hate this album. I think I already do. If I never listened to it again, I donít think I would be missing anything. Coming from the band who brought us Walls, The Ponytail Parades, and In a Win, Win Situation, this is a very unexpected let down. Check it out and be the judge for yourself. As for me, Iím gonna go get my party on with a bottle of Jack Daniels and try to forget about what I just listened to.
Leave me a comment and let me know what you guys think.
|Tags: emery, album review, sucks, wtf
| I just realized I have been sitting here for 20 minutes with headphones on my head, but there was no music playing. Silly me. I can't sleep.|
It seems like time is once again running out before I have to make a decision. I should have been going to school at Portland State this semester, but the money wasn't working out, so I couldn't. It was really disappointing.
I have to make a choice of whether to stay here, or to go to somewhere like Georgia State. It's in state, so it would be much more affordable than having to move across the country. Unfortunately, I doubt it would be as enjoyable, but I suppose I need to take what I can get.
This semester has not started off very well at all. Nothing overwhelmingly bad has happened, but to the contrary nothing really good has happened. It's pointless when you just sleepwalk day to day, and nothing ever changes. I don't have as many friends as I did before. Most of them have gone their separate ways, some for better, some for worse. I'm kind of here by myself, so that makes me wonder if it's time for me to take a big step towards else.
I miss having fun with all those people. I never thought things would change so much, so fast. I particularly never thought that the relationships I had with those people would completely end. My fault or theirs, they ended. That happens in life, and when they do, something usually comes along and you can pick up where you left off. I'm still waiting for something to pick up and get me going with something else.
I have the highest doubts if I will find anything or anyone to do that here. The point I'm at in school just won't allow me to go out and get fucked up all the time like a lot of other kids are, and that's kind of frustrating, but also understandable. That's not totally my scene, and the people that do that nowadays aren't close friends of mine anyways. I don't even know enough people to go out on Thursday nights. It ends up me feeling awkward in a room surrounded by people that I don't really know or care about. There isn't really time left to forge all these new friendships. Most everyone else has something from the past they are holding onto and enjoying. I don't.
I'm very disconnected, and I don't know what the fuck it is that I'm looking for. I'd like to feel good about things, and that isn't happening here. It hasn't been for a long time.
I will probably flip a coin or something to figure out if I should just randomly move. It can't be any less inspiring than here, and the people couldn't be any worse.
I wouldn't miss a thing.
And there was never any place
For someone like me to be totally happy
I'm running out of clock and that ain't a shock
Some things never do change
|Tags: depression, indecision, ambien, skeet
|Ambien: It's What's For Breakfast
|So I just took a lovely ambien, and now I'm seeing interesting colors and feeling a slight tinge of euphoria. Chances are I won't sleep, because I never do anyways.|
At least there's some chemical interaction to help me get through the uneventful and unfulfilling evening.
I'm starting to realize there are just tons and tons of things in my life I need to change. I am just not happy with how anything is at the moment. That, my friends, is not how a 21 year old should be living.
Also, I got an email from Portland State today. They confirmed my housing for next semester. I get a room in the brand new Broadway Building, and that is sweet as hell. The sad part is, I am in Georgia, not Oregon, and I won't be going to Portland State this fall. So I have to cancel the contract. Just kinda silly that there is a room with my name on it 3000 miles away that I miss out on.
On the other hand, the new EP from The Pilot is amazing. Rob has done a very fine job with this creation.
Maybe I'll lay down for a bit. Holla.