The good news (from a certain POV) is that I’ve decided NOT to shut down the blog.
Wow, that got your attention didn’t it? First, you had no idea I was considering it, second, you’re wondering how that’s good news?
In the last month I’ve had several long conversations with some people I love and respect. I have to shit or get off the pot. I’ve been told that if I’m determined to be a brooding and depressed bastard, I have to cut Teresa and Becca loose to live their lives free of my oppressive existence. And if I don’t want that to happen, I have to get my shit together and right fast!
I can not disagree. My grip on life has slipped and the tempest in my skull has gotten out of control. The thing that scares me the most is that this decision actually generated thought and I don’t think it should have. It should have been a clear-as-a-bell call to address my faults and make life easier on those I truly love. Not to be edgy or dramatic but maybe they are right; maybe I have too many faults or maybe my faults are too deep. It is a very real possibility and bears consideration that I am damaged beyond repair and unworthy of redemption. How much should anyone be expected to put up with before they are allowed to give up and start over?
I’ve lost all interest in the things I still claim to be passionate about. I haven’t sat down behind my drum kit in a month. I’ve cut all on-line social ties with the vast e-community I used to interact with. I haven’t written anything even resembling a story in several months now. I keep trying but it’s difficult to make my brain focus anymore. I sit upstairs and stare at the screen, I write a few hundred words and then I hit [delete]. I have to get something done before Teresa realizes that I’m not writing anything up here. It’s a very “Jack Torrance” kind of life I’m living up here in my head. When Teresa finds the symbolic ream of “All work/no play” paper, she’ll just grab Becca and run.
This post was drafted about a week ago and had a lot more humor in it before I finished writing it up this morning. I’m not feeling humorous about this anymore. I’m feeling… Well, the truth is, I feel nothing. I want to feel rage against the walls I have confined myself in. I want to feel sadness for the irrational pain within me and the very real pain I have caused others. I want to feel compassion for those who have endured me. I want to feel… Fuck! I just want to FEEL again! But there is nothing left in the tank. I am empty. And when I confide in someone about this I am told to grow up.
And that all brings us to my original point. The reason I considered shutting down the blog? I am unable to be honest here. I’ve tried but there are just some things that will never go public or there are some things that should never go public. So this is nothing but a narcissistic, masturbatory exercise where I claim to be honest but hold back the ugly parts of the truth. I can get personal on a superficial level but if I say something about anyone else, it would be too personal and if I write out the things that appear behind my eyes, I am accused of being melodramatic and self-absorbed. I am desperately fighting against the use of language that creeps in that would make this sound less like a blog post and more like a suicide note. I just don’t feel like I should have to censor myself like this. If I’m fucked up in the head, why can’t I just throw it all out there and relieve the pressure? Why do I have to retain the ugliest parts within myself? I have nowhere left to vent the really dangerous poisons. The only thing keeping me from shutting everything down is the small point of light in the corner of my eye that reminds me of the cycle. Next week, or tomorrow, or an hour from now, I’ll feel better and I’ll be alright. And if I make a rash decision during my “down phase” I’ll regret it in my “normal phase”. That small point is also the only thing that has kept me alive for so long. Unfortunately, the phases are getting elliptical. The light fades faster and the darkness lasts longer.
Every line I write beyond this point keeps getting deleted. I’m venturing too far into the darkness and you won’t follow. So I’ll keep writing up the fluff but I just don’t see the fucking point anymore.
April 22nd, 2010 at 11:04 am
If you continuously refuse to grasp the hands that are held out to you for love, support and help what else can be said but “grow up”? Every one needs a little coddling but there comes a time when you have to grow up and take the responsibility to help yourself. You continuously refuse to help yourself. We offer solutions whether it be to talk to a professional, take medication or just sit down and cry your heart out. You refuse to let go completely for fear that we’ll have you committed, but you don’t realize that we want to have you committed because you bottle it all up and allow it to eat away at you. It’s slowly killing you and you don’t care.
You don’t want to bother everyone with your issues, you don’t want to spew the bile, rage and frustration you have bottled up. It makes you depressed to the point of leaving this world, you crack at the littlest things and make them more important than they should be. You’re making yourself and everyone around you miserable because you WONT HELP YOURSELF. I saw a message the other day on face book- if you can’t love yourself, then you can’t truly love someone. At first, my response was that I hate myself but I love so many people so that statement was truly false… but then I thought about it and realized I must love myself because I try to take care of myself because I don’t want others to hurt or worry. I don’t want you hurt or worrying about me.What would you do if something happened to me.
I take blood pressure medicine, I go to the doctor’s regularly. I’ve made a heartbreaking decision I thought I’d never have to make because it’s best for our family.. but you?? You say you are fine.. not to worry, no one would care if you were gone, the world would be a better place… Well FUCK YOU!! If you think that then maybe we should all forget about helping you, we should all give up on you because… you don’t love yourself.. so guess what?? YOU DON’T LOVE US!!! You can’t… If you feel that way… well.. what can we say?
You’ve become a shell of the man I fell in love with. You have no life left in you and no matter how your mind tells you that it’s because Becca & I have gone on without you or how we just wish you weren’t here.. your heart has to know the truth. YOU have to help yourself before we can help you…We’ve done all we can do. The coddling has to stop and you have to make your decisions.. It’s the only way…Do you want help, can you see a brighter future if you’ll just get the help you need? Or are you so stubborn and so far gone there’s no coming out of it? We love you, we’ll never give up on you… can we say the same of you?? Have you given up???
April 22nd, 2010 at 11:30 am
After reading.. it sounded like a rage or a lecture.. I’m terrible with words and thoughts….My response was meant to be more from a lost, confused and hurt wife who misses her loving husband and hopes that in the near future, he’ll come back to her…and their friends
April 22nd, 2010 at 2:13 pm
No, Tree, it didn’t sound like either one, actually.
It sounded frustrated. You see what you think needs to be done, and you see Chris ignoring it and it bothers you… A lot.
The same basic thing is true for us all, both in respect to Morgan, You, Me, and all of our friends. People tell me what I need to do all the time, sometimes I follow that mostly very good advice, sometimes I don’t. The frustrating part is when we see the problem another has, and we know exactly how to fix it, but we can’t express it well, or they ignore the advice.
For my part, I only explained the world truth for me, and hope that my friend can understand it and use it to some good. Chris knows of what I speak, but in essence, my contribution was “If I can’t be allowed to help you, then I can’t allow you to help me.” I trust that commentary didn’t help drag him down, but if it did, I couldn’t change it, because it’s a truth for the way I am.
As for “Truth” in the sense that there are some things Morgan feels he shouldn’t say in a Blog; honestly, with his readers I think he’s headed the wrong direction in the thinking. I think there are some WAYS of delivering the “Truth” that are less than Ideal (to say the least) because much more is read into the post than is intended.
April 22nd, 2010 at 5:28 pm
Teresa I read your frustration but did not hear it as a negative. Chris we have spoke and I can only hope as some one who loves you very deeply that you choose to help yourself and in doing so realize that many of us are here for you and Teresa. You know I am a shoulder and an ear. You also know I won’t swallow the BS. Teresa same goes for you.
April 22nd, 2010 at 7:33 pm
I concur that I read frustration in your post Tree. And as you can see it is a shared frustration. I don’t know how to “deliver” what I feel either..so I often don’t.
Past experience has taught me that this post made by you, Chris, is a cry for help. Every book on “manic” will tell you so.
I know we keep asking ‘what can I/we do to help? Anything you would ask of us to assist would probably be given. But the fact is, YOU DON’T KNOW…jesus, if you did know you sure as hell are intelligent enough to tell one of us.
It sure as hell could not hurt to talk to someone outside the circle, who you pay not to judge you, and their job is to not judge you. You would not be the only one in group that has sought outside couciling…(waving hand).
I love you three so much, I hate seeing any of you hurting like this. You have a great little clan of friends that will support you in a journey to a more stable place in your heart and head.
April 23rd, 2010 at 5:04 pm
Everyone has been amazing in suffering my surly moods. Thank you all for the concern and love. A turning point has been reached and instead of watching it pass me by, I’ll make the attempt at righting my boat. I agree it has gotten worse and I also agree that it must stop. However, seeking “professional” help means losing my job, losing my job means losing the house, losing the house means… and so on…
But I have just taken one more step in trying to fix the problem myself. We’ll see how much this works. I’ll never be “normal”, but maybe I can find my way back to being the miserable little shit you all love instead of the unbearable bastard you all love but want to kill! (All said in humor…)
I apologize for being such an emotional burden. I know I haven’t intentionally lain my burden at anyone’s feet but you all are so loving and caring that you picked me up anyway. I hate that about myself, being a drag on the ones I love. But I don’t want anyone second-guessing what my causes or diagnosis’ were. I’m the one to blame, I’m the one to fix it. If all goes well, this will be the final time I have to lay myself prostrate and beg indulgence for my dourness.
Love, sunshine and puppies,
Morgan