məƝŦ@L cŕαϨН

A journal of moods, feelings and events relating to my depression

ÅŵĸƜǎгɖ

What I wanted to ask, but shouldn’t… I’m writing it here so you don’t feel any need to answer.

Would you prefer it if I took control? If I decided to make the decisions for you, and dominate you? If I took your shyness and awkwardness and crushed it beneath my heel?

I could own you, dominate you. I could hold you down, pin your arms and take what I want from you. I could make you beg for me to stop, then plead for me not to. I would tie you down and tease you from tip to toe, feathery touches glancing across your skin, hot wax dripping, ice numbing. Chocolate covered nipples slowly licked clean, teeth grazing your neck and biting deep into your flesh.

Would you like that? Would that let you overcome your shyness?

Hate

I hate this.
I feel alone, cut off, morose.
I feel slighted, ignored, abandoned.
I dread the upcoming hours even as I spoil the past with bitter reflection.
I hate this.
I despise every wrong decision that has led me to this point.
I curse the fortunes of others even as I know I should be glad for them.
I create noxious poison that fills my head.
I hate this.
I regret ever making this journey.
I ruin all my future joy with self-sorrow.
I wallow where I should be frabjous.
I hate this.
I hate this.
I hate this.

Bad experiences.

yodathedark:

This is something that’s been plaguing me for a long time now. And I have to say, I think I’ve reached the point where I feel comfortable posting it online.

At least, I feel comfortable enough to take the leap and post it. As I type this, I’m not sure what I’m going to do with it. I’m typing it on my Tumblr blog and I plan to post it on my Livejournal as well, but I don’t know if it’ll be friends-only there or not yet. Depends how I feel when I get there I think.

After all, Tumblr is open to all, so why not post it to everyone on LJ as well? One of the answers to that is of course that only a few people even know about the existence of my Tumblr, so anyone potentially reading it would likely be a stranger, and for some reason that’s more comfortable than having lots of my friends definitely reading it.

But I will take the plunge. I’ll broadcast this out, via my Twitter to my Buzz as well, though I will remove it from my Facebook. Friends are one thing - family are another. And there are young folk who would see my FB.

Anyhow… to get to the matter at hand… If you don’t want to read it, don’t feel you have to. I just want to put it out there.

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This is me. This is me three years ago expressing something that shaped who I was. That still shapes me.

New experiences lie in front of me, new possibilities and yet I’m still haunted by the past, haunted by this. The scars still itch and threaten to re-open, but I don’t want to be trapped by them.

Can I move forward, or will the past define me? I guess I’ll have to find out.

Hãtë

I hate this. I hate feeling like I’ve been betrayed. I hate knowing the Truth and not being able to feel anything but the Lie. Not a bad metaphor for Mage but not the point. It feels like I’m betrayed by those close to me, like I’m ignored by them, like they’re cutting me out. And no matter how much I know it to be false, no matter how much I know things to be different, I can’t feel it any other way. And it’s going to hurt when I see people and they don’t understand why I recoil from them, why I cringe from them, why their apparent sudden closeness and ignorance repels me. I hate this.

ŦĭƦƏƌ

Physically, I’ve recovered from the weekend. Mentally and socially, I think I’m still a way off.

I find myself lacking things to do now that the manic push to get things done is over - it feels like I should have this list of things to be getting on with, but I can’t think of any of them. I also find myself lacking social interaction now; having spent the last month almost constantly in the presence of others in my free time.

So last night, I found myself lacking both things to do and people to speak to. And I slipped. Not physically, but mentally - the quiet loneliness pushing down on me. Attempts to occupy myself didn’t work so well, and I felt not abandoned, but without company.

This is something that’s extending to my work hours as well. There aren’t enough social media updates to keep my mind occupied, nor work interesting enough to keep me busy.

I feel tired, lethargic, and leaden. It feels like I’m weighed down and everything is an effort. Nothing appeals to me, and I don’t feel up to much.

Even the game stuff we’ve been working on doesn’t appeal. I’ve reached a level of not-coping that means that I can’t deal with the banal queries of players (who do mean well), never mind the complete disregard for consistent spelling and grammar (I don’t mind bad spelling and grammar as much if its consistent, and when I’m down I don’t cope well with it at all). Working on fresh things, or new interpretations of things holds some interest, but it doesn’t last long beyond the idea. The day-to-day answering of queries is an ordeal I can’t face at present.

Today, I have to get a project I’ve been working on for nearly a year to 100% (or near as damn it), but I can’t work on it because I’ve been done for months. It needs tested, and the bugs found. It needs the service it relies on to work properly and consistently. They need to be tested together so we can figure out what (if anything) is wrong. But the other service isn’t ready for testing, and we don’t have testing data we can access yet, so there’s nothing I can do. And since I’ve been told this is my only priority this week - I don’t have anything else to do. I can do bit-work, work on things I know need done, but it isn’t real work and I can’t do anything that would distract from this project when it is ready to go.

It’s tiring. The office is too warm, and I feel like crap, but there’s nothing I can do about that. I can’t even lose myself in my work.

Maybe next week will be better.

ăĻøᴎę

Can you be broken hearted over something that never happened?

This is five different flavours of fucked up.

I’ve been talking to this person for a while now. We click, we get on, we embrace each other’s weirdness. We’ve shared fantasies, explored through some via the medium of the internet. But we’ve never met, never actually spoken.

That’s not that important, but perhaps it sets the scene, as it were.

I like them, and if we weren’t so far apart, I’d make a proper move. Or I would have, before today. They’re with someone, and I knew they were. And we’ve had some talks about what we’d do if they weren’t, but it was hypothetical. I didn’t expect anything, but maybe I hoped. I definitely hoped.

Except today, we were talking and now I know things I didn’t know before. Things that hadn’t come up before. Things that change everything. They might disagree, but I didn’t know those things, and I have rules.

See, this isn’t just another relationship they’re in. They have plans. House, kids, the full gamut of things. And they’re making serious moves towards those plans. Together. That’s no longer anywhere near a relationship I could expect to get a shot of entering.

As I said, I have rules. My first rule, learned from hard experience, is to not fuck up someone else’s relationship. If I get involved with someone, on any level, with someone already in a relationship, I prioritise their relationship first. It’s not fair to them otherwise. Especially if it’s not an open arrangement.

Now I’m wondering if I should break things off, and make sure it’s clear that anything in the future will be clearly platonic only. Anyone I told this to would probably tell me that’s exactly what I should be doing.

And now, I find myself posing a question. Why is it that the only people who I feel are attracted to me in any way are the ones in deeply committed relationships with other people? I never find a single person who’s interested in me. To be fair, I wouldn’t know where to look any more. Picking people up was never my thing, and my social circles are more limited than they used to be. But still, I never attract anyone who isn’t already with someone else. Or who isn’t even more mentally fucked up than I am, and I’ve been down the crazy train enough times already.

I’m tired of being alone.

TL;DR: I’m suffering another fit of depression and trying to deal with it. Also, here’s some things that are going on in my life today. There may be cookies at the end.

I don’t know what I’m writing about. I don’t really know what I’m doing with my life. Everything… everything seems so foggy, so far away, and I can’t get a firm grasp on what I’m trying to do.

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ŧŏŁəяαŤëĐ

My depression isn’t a constant thing. I have up-days and down-days. Though it’s more like up-days and down-weeks.

When I’m down, it often feels like people don’t so much want me around as they tolerate me to be around. It feels like people I call friends couldn’t care less if I was there, and that if I wasn’t there it might be less awkward.

It feels like if I wasn’t there, no one would miss me.

There’s this idea in my head that the reason no one invites me to join in on things is that they don’t want me around, or that they think I would spoil it for them. It feels like I’m being left out because it would be better without me, or because they don’t care enough about me to include me.

When I try and organise things, they tend not to go well, they tend not to get many people involved.

It feels like I used to be involved, like people used to care and now they don’t want me around.

And if that’s the case, I’d rather they told me than continued to tolerate me. I can’t stand feeling like I’m being left out while trying to convince myself that that’s not what’s happening. I can’t stand the internal struggles I face when I try and convince myself it’s just the depression.

It feels like no one cares, and no one notices. Like no one has time for me.

Maybe they don’t. Maybe I expect too much from people. Maybe I don’t have the friends I thought I did. I like to think I do, but it feels like I’m alone and unwanted, like no one would notice if I disappeared - like no one would care.

It still hurts.
It still makes me falter.
It tore me apart when I ended it.
I don’t wish I hadn’t. I don’t wish we were still together. I wish I didn’t feel so broken though.
I still have her ring. I don’t know if she still has mine. I can’t bring myself to get rid of it. It hurts less to look at it now, but the memories aren’t gone - the pain isn’t gone.
Every so often I remember and it threatens to tear me apart again.

It still hurts.

It still makes me falter.

It tore me apart when I ended it.

I don’t wish I hadn’t. I don’t wish we were still together. I wish I didn’t feel so broken though.

I still have her ring. I don’t know if she still has mine. I can’t bring myself to get rid of it. It hurts less to look at it now, but the memories aren’t gone - the pain isn’t gone.

Every so often I remember and it threatens to tear me apart again.

Sometimes I feel so worthless
Sometimes I feel discarded
I wish that I was good enough
Then I’d know that I am not alone