Horse latitudes

I haven't been doing very well lately, though I guess that's a recurring theme by now.  Just another wave to ride out, though whether my goal is to get closer to shore or father from it, I can't tell. It doesn't really matter because I'm not really making progress in either direction. That's the way it feels, anyway. 

I'm still going to therapy weekly, still taking Wellbutrin. It helps, I'm trying my best, but there's only so much I can do right now. The reality is I need to be on my own, I need to separate myself from my current situation, otherwise I'm just treading water with weights tied to my ankles. 

Most of the time I feel like a huge fuck up, like I'm not doing myself or anybody else any good. I'm supposed to be working on replacing negative thoughts with positive ones, but it's hard. I'm my own worst enemy. How I'm supposed to put a positive spin on that, I have no idea. 

But I have my friends, and I'm learning how to accept their help. I'm learning how to trust again, though that's a one-step-forward-five-steps-back kind of deal, but whatever. I'm trying.

I'm still not sleeping well, and I've had a headache since November. I've been having chest pains for over a month now, which I'm chalking up to stress.  Probably rage, too. I have a couple of unresolved issues in my life, one in particular that eats away at me every second of the day. I can't really do anything about it, and every day I get more and more angry and when I'm alone all I do is cry. I hate myself for being so fucking stupid, for believing I could have what everyone else has. Going back to that place where no one can touch me is going against everything I'm learning in therapy, but I don't believe it will ever be any different for me, so why keep fooling myself? Why keep torturing myself with false hope? There's no point.

Work sucks. Home sucks. I suck. Everything is the worst. I'll probably feel differently next week. I hope I will.  I'll try to. 

..whatever we lose (like a you or a me) it's always ourselves we find in the sea.

“...the sea's only gifts are harsh blows and, occasionally, the chance to feel strong. Now, I don't know much about the sea, but I do know that that's the way it is here. And I also know how important it is in life not necessarily to be strong but to feel strong, to measure yourself at least once, to find yourself at least once in the most ancient of human conditions, facing blind, deaf stone alone, with nothing to help you but your own hands and your own head...” 
― Primo Levi

Trade me right fucking now.

With the exception of one day, I had a really bad week last week. I had plans to head into Portland to see some friends on Sunday, and that kept my spirits up.

Things didn't work out and in fact all hell kind of broke loose. So I was stressed out, stabbed in the back/slandered, blown off and sent into a chest-crushing anxiety attack and all I have to show for it is a bunch of cupcakes I have no intention of eating.

Don't ask.

Things are seriously fucked up. I have therapy on Wednesday and that should help, but I'm supposed to be working on building two meaningful relationships in which I am open and honest about my feelings. It's part of the treatment plan that I signed five months ago. Outside of that, I'm supposed to be speaking up when something bothers me or when something or someone makes me happy. I've tried so many times, but I can't ever get the words out. It's stupid because it's not like I don't want to talk to my friends or be close to someone. I want all of that. I took a stab at it last year and felt better than I had in a long time. Things went south overnight and, believing it was my fault, I poured my heart out and it got the shit stomped out of it. I was basically told I was a mistake.

I'm having a hard time believing anything good will come of me doing that again. I know there are people in my life who would never (intentionally) disregard my feelings. If anything, that makes it worse because these are the people who really know me.

You can't live your life on maybes and what ifs. I know that. But I wish I had gotten to this point a lot sooner. I feel like I joined a game that's been played for years and years and it's too far along for me to learn the rules and truly participate.

I know that's just my skewed way of seeing things, and that's something my therapist and I talked about last week; replacing negative thoughts with positive ones. I've been doing a pretty good job, but the last couple of weeks have been rough and so many timed I wanted to give up and hide in bed. But I have these stupid people in my life that won't let me forget that they care. And I hold that feeling close, and I keep moving.

Right now it feels like I'm walking through chest-deep mud. I'm tired, I'm in pain, I feel lost. But it's monday and it's a new week and I'm going to do my best to make it a positive one.

I need a hug. Badly.

What are you doing, Dave?

Had a dream that I went to McMenamins and saw an insanely BAD movie. Afterwards the manager came around to ask what we thought of the film.
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[Me:] How many thumbs are there in the world?
[Manager:] I don't know. A lot?
[Me:] Well, however many there are, I give it that many thumbs down. That's how stupid this movie is.
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I ended up winning the grand prize for best movie review. The grand prize? A chunk of the monolith from "2001: A Space Odyssey."

I tracked down the manager, waved my prize in front of his face and asked, "What the hell am I supposed to do with a piece of broken monkey rock?"

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 Saw Prometheus the other night.  Good movie. In the beginning, a robot named David is walking around the ship (the rest of the crew is asleep), farting around, doing his genius robot thing.  At one point, the ship's computer says, "Good morning, David."  NOBODY GOT IT. Ugh.