reflection

People get sick when they’re disconnected. Whether it be from other people, from their own mind, or from the internet if they don’t get reconnected soon they’ll dive deep and dwell in their sickness. Love and connection is what get you better. If you’re down in a hospital bed chances are you’ll heal faster if you’re visited by friends and family or if you could maintain a happy thought.

If depression were a sickness (which it is) and I were depressed (which I am) then what I need to get better is some form of connection. These might be reasons why I’ve been sick for so long (although they can be excuses sometimes):

• $1/hr crappy dial-up
• Lack of people alike around me
• Shit salary
• No visible way out

Ok so there’s my short list but I’m not gonna let them tie me down for another year. If blind people can use sticks to guide their path I could definitely use something to get me out of this misery.

Visit me, hang out with me, whatever thing you do might contribute to my healing.

Thank you for your time and have an AWESOME day!

Lee was being silly worried about losing it in the forums and asked for the first signs of a nervous breakdown. Amanda just happened to be up that night and she laid it all down for our education:

nervous breakdown. [broken down]

there’s the high-to-low, almost bi-polar quality of character brought on mostly by stress, which seems mostly normal until you discover it’s not getting any better. infact, it’s getting worse. none of this is your fault. none of the stress or dynamics or issues. everything dissolves into a mosaic of chaos. panic attacks–the bit where you’re so screwed, so overwhelmed, so helpless that you can’t even breathe properly anymore. literally. the worst part is you KNOW you’re not being rational..hell, you even know what is rational, you just can’t follow impulses of logical reasoning. that in itself pisses you off, because you notice your own stupidity, and it’s annoying.

here’s where you recognise you need help. anything–just for someone to reach out a little. just to genuinely take and give back in a quid pro quo companionship. not from pity, but from trust. faith. but not just anyone, someone you trust. someone who can look at you, say they’ll never leave you alone, and make you believe it. half-ass in-passing relationships of circumstance, lectures, counselors, advisement, insubstantial bs just isn’t enough. then again, you can’t very well ask for help–shoving that burden to anyone else either, now can you? this is your problem, even if it’s not your fault. your responsibility. you think to yourself, yea–i’m ok. i’ll make it. i have to make it. you watch them all passing by, begging them with your eyes, choking back tears. all of a sudden you look around, and you see..

you’re alone in the crowd.

which is the coldest feeling of all. no matter how many people are standing by, waiting to catch you, waiting to pull you back up and love you all along the way, you can’t see them. here’s the problem: you can never see the people standing behind you.

now, you’ll recall that it’s not your fault. but you start to wish it was, because if that were the case, then you could affect it. you could do something to change it, control it, shepherd it towards another path. but you can’t–it’s out of your hands. this ofcourse sends you into a downward spiral of frustration and depression, once you realise how pointless it is to attempt to put any kind of structure and control back into your life. you notice in yourself a lack of emotion. motivation. innovation. you find yourself incredibly devoid of

life.

at first you don’t feel anything. an indescribable feeling of dissolution—then, if you’re lucky, you scare yourself back to reality once you’ve watched yourself slipping away. you notice you’re scared, which means you’re feeling again, which seems like a miracle. anything is brilliant once you’ve hit bottom.

you grab onto whatever little hope you find in that, and climb your way out. hand over hand, step by step. that’s all you’ve got…

until you bring yourself to stop running, breathe in, and turn around to see the people who’ve stood behind, waiting to catch you all along.

If symptoms arise please see your doctor or psychiatrist ASAP!

WARNING: this is one of those get-wise-crap posts, highly not recommended at all.

When death knocks on your door what do you think? I personally wouldn’t worry so much about how much dough I have left in my account, or about that sleek sports car that I could’ve had. I had a gun in my mouth once twice and you know what I was thinking? I was trying hard not to wet myself. I may be a little comical for those of you who know me but I believe when death approaches all that has mattered all your life suddenly become nothing, nada!!

It’s hard to let go of life. I worship Kurt Cobain for a living for the sake of worshipping something and I’ve wanted to pull the trigger so many times when I’m down. I simply couldn’t let go. That’s the single most reason I’m still breathing this dirty air today.

This life though, what do you do in it, what can you do? When it comes down to it, what really matters? You can’t take your gold to your grave (unless you’re Chinese) and you’re fucked if you don’t know whether you’re going to heaven or hell. Well maybe you don’t believe in heaven and hell, fine then, you’ll just die and become a void?! Who the fuck want to do that? Fine, reincarnate, yeah die and rebore as a monkey. I’ll shoot you when I see you dangling on my banana tree!!

Anyway.. go watch Godfather or something and reflect on your life.

And love, well, if sex is sweet and death is bitter, love is both. Love will always and forever break your heart. ~ OZ Season 1 Episode 2

Good night folks, and good morning to those in the Pacifics.