It’s been two years…not much has changed.
I had decided to not bother with this blog anymore.
I’d like to say that since my last entry, I’d found my miracle. I’d like to say I found the answers to the questions that molest my soul (spirit–I’m not so religious anymore). I haven’t. The grayness of my life is as gray as ever. It is like breathing through a wet towel. If anything, the grayness has become darker–even more stifling. I have reached a point where I create this scenario of a perfect life in my head–enough money to not worry, a good job, in a loving relationship, surrounded by friends and family–and ask myself, “Would you want to live another day if this were your life?” No. No. I have reached a point that even if my life were my idea of ideal, the darkness has tainted my soul. I am spoiled. I am convinced in almost every way that there is no good reason for me. I am more exhausted than ever. I am so incredibly tired of this life.
In 2009, having thought I had found some happiness with someone, I found myself single, again. But, the naive are easy pray. I hope the money helped. After sending money several times, including money in December 2008 for a trip to Prague, I was cast aside. No contact. No response to calls. Nothing for two months. In the middle of February 2009 I called, and *accidentally* was connected. We were both shocked. It was a short conversation–being told goodbye only takes a few seconds. Recovery took a few months–but the grayness was a bit darker and ever more present. Ever more present, I had begun to think about ending my life regardless of the impact it would have on my family. Everything was a challenge. Everything took an incredible amount of effort.
Work and gym, work and gym…
Somewhere near the end of 2009 I decided to try and make some new friends. I had pretty much lost all of my friends in my city. I was struggling to maintain my friendships with those in other cities. I was desperate to get out of my funk. Socializing has never been easy for me, so as lame as it might sound, I went to the internet. I had used a website before and decided to use it again. I tried to fill my free time talking to unavailable (I gravitate to people in other countries–I think it is a way for me to subconsciously sabotage my happiness–self-fulfilling prophecy as it were) people about anything I could think of. All I wanted was a few minutes relief from the grayness. I made a few friends online–I even found a little hope in it all…a little. That hope lasted up until I was asked for money. Fool me once…
Still, my only relief from the grayness was to spend my time talking to strangers–trying to find some connection to the world. Then, in early 2010, I found love. The BIG kind. The kind that hurts as much as it feels good. The kind that you worry every minute of every day that it’s going to end. The kind where you feel like you’ve taken your first breath of fresh air in your life. The kind where you finally start to think you’ve been wrong all of your life about everything and perhaps the world has a bit of sunshine saved just for you that will make the grayness go away. My 2010 was filled with long nights talking to my love; fantastic vacations to places I’ve always wanted to see; sweet love; beautiful memories. But the grayness is nothing if not persistent–the fighting was brutal–which, came in the form of extreme jealousy manifested with viciousness.
Also in 2010 were 5 deaths, one fatal illness, one stroke, one heart attack in my family including my parents (the stroke and heart attack). My parents both survived; but, I have to admit to something sad and sickening–given this is my outlet for all things poisonous: The thought crossed my mind I am looking forward to my parents being gone. Not because I do not love them–I love them very much. I love them so much that the one thing that holds me to these mortal coils is the fact my parents need me. It would crush them to find I took my life. But the grayness is ever darker.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
The grayness is not so easily brushed aside. I’m still an outsider, an alien walking amongst the human race. I can’t find a way to fit in. I can’t find a way to be content. Perhaps if my life were ideal there would be some hope, and I would want…wait…no, I am truly tired of this life.
