Sunday, December 30, 2012

Night Before New Years Eve

I think Jody just put me on suicide watch when I told him I realized today that there is enough lorezapam in the house to put me to sleep forever. I took two after talking to my mom but they don't do anything for me. She had a way to break me into tiny pieces. I thought I wanted to have kids but at this moment i'm not sure if I want to deal with her with my kids.

Jody and I talked for a while. It's nice of him. We concluded that I need to have an obsession to occupy my time and thoughts so I don't spiral down to loneliness and depression all the time. I came to that conclusion six months ago and still have not come up with anything. Now I feel as if I'll never come up with anything. The truth is that the thrills are all gone. We're all entering into a time of emptiness and isolation. We can label it however we want but like Jody said we're all just waiting to die. It's the waiting part I don't understand. Why wait? I'd wait if there's something to look forward to. But there is nothing other than more disappointment for my mom and more loneliness and depression for me. We're all in a hospice waiting to die. There are no cure or treatment to be had. Life from now on is merely to be sustained by busy work. Volunteering, collecting stamps, having kids. Whatever it takes to sustain your sanity and heart beating long enough until you've got a legitimate excuse to checkout like cancer or a heart attack.

We weren't going to come up with a solution tonight or ever because there are no solutions. But what needed to happen is to have an illusion of solution so I can make it through another night to call Jody back at 5pm tomorrow. Surely things would be easier if I don't wake up but I really don't have any plans to checkout at the moment. I'm just incredibly sad, lonely, frustrated and depressed. I always wondered how in the world Jody and I became friends after all these years. Maybe it's gods way of putting together two crazy atheists together to commiserate how harsh life is without subscribing to an organized religion. I'm going to laying down and go to sleep.

When my brain is awake and unoccupied it thinks about falling in love and connecting with like minded and nonjudgmental people. neither of those things are going to happen so I must turn off my brain.

Monday, December 24, 2012


It is easier to be fair than to be generous. Beyond the simple idea of giving, it takes enormous amount of strength to sustain a continuous outflow of unrequited kindness. Rose said that I'm a generous person yet I struggle with it every step of the way. Resentment is a beast. It sneaks upon us to turn our best intentions and kindest deeds into bitter poisons. I can think of countless times when my actions have gone unnoticed, unappreciated and unrequited by others. And I'm sure I have done the same to people who treated me with kindness. To give is easy. To let go of resentment is hard. And generosity can't be sustained without resolving the latter. Expectation can be managed once, twice maybe three times, after which we must master the art of letting go.

Creativity is the underlying solution for most of our problems. When giving gets tough, two thought processes have helped me to restore inner peace: consequentialism helps to gives value to my actions and appreciation for the past helps to counterbalance any shortchange in the present.

Instead of thinking the unfairness of it all, I look for ways to substantiate giving. After many weeks of staying over at Sam's place, going to bed late, getting up early for work and somehow carrying on with sleep deprivation, he said it must be difficult. I shrugged my shoulders not as sign of toughness but that it was only fair. I said, "there were many mornings when others had to get up early to go to work while I stayed in bed, it's only fair that the roles are reversed now." Sam understood the logic but he still thought it was an odd way of looking at things. Strange or not, it was the only way I could justify and continue on with insufficient sleep.

When simple equivocations are not possible I turn to a game of consequentialism, the idea that the consequence of an action provides the sole basis for the judgement for the value of that action. For example,  I waited in line for three hours at Walmart on Black Friday because someone I just met mentioned that he'd like to get the iPad deal. Although I had volunteered to do it on my own volition, he was gracious enough to say that he'd do something nice for me in return. A couple of weeks later not only was my action not rewarded, the person suddenly fell off the radar without explanation or a farewell. The way it all ended was irritating on its own but the annoyance level increased exponentially when I thought about that three-hour wait. Instead of surrendering into bitter resentment I cycled through the positives over and over again until it sufficiently neutralized whatever negativity I harbored inside of me. For the two weeks we did interact, I was consumed by a longing that I have not felt in a long time. I was absorbed in our conversations on the most mundane subjects. I counted down the hours until our next meeting. I felt my heart racing with the slightest physical contact. I gushed to my girlfriends like a school girl. I know anyone of those sensations would have been worthy of a three-hour wait. And just to be sure those implicit returns are of value I ask myself, how many hours would I wait in a Walmart isle to feel the butterflies? 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 hours? Would I do it for 8 hours? Yes! Now three hours seems like a bargain! In fact, if someone offered me in exchange to wait eight hours for what I had experienced I would have taken that up in a heartbeat. Perhaps if I hadn't waited none of the rest would have happened. And for that it was a good deal.

There are many ways to look at generosity. The more you invest personally the more difficult it is. I drop off gently used clothing to the Goodwill store on a regular bases and never have I felt a need for reciprocity. Yet, when we give to a friend or invest in a relationship, it is only natural to hope for something in return as a gesture of appreciation. We can cut our losses when things stop adding up but overtime negative residuals can prevent us from living generously. Ultimately, there is no giving without letting go. And if it all has to go, let it be given with good feelings.

Friday, December 14, 2012

Friday Night Lows

Ever since I moved away from Rochester I have longed for companionship, especially on Friday nights, someone to commiserate with, someone to let down my guards with, someone to look forward to to share the weekend with. It was ok in the beginning but after two years I'm getting to my breaking point. Despite a few brief encounters with individuals who are obviously incompatible to my brash personality, I have remained extraordinarily lonely. Friday nights have now proven to be the worst of them all, ahead of being single on Valentines Day or having no one to kiss when the clock struck midnight. What seems like such an ordinary day have become so inordinately painful.

I've always despised what I do for most of my awaking hours during the week. I now official dread the end of each week as well. With the passing of each Friday I am being reminded over and over again of my loneliness. I can feel the anxiety in my voice when I reply to such innocent question from coworkers as "do you have any plans for the weekend?" The answer is mostly the same while I try my best to avoid taking my frustrations out on innocent bystanders. While I long for company I also loath the idea of being around people for the sake of being around people. I have no patience for such pretenses. I want meaningful company. I've tried and I have failed.

I have hit a new low this past Friday as I continue to flex my ability for self destruction. I cajoled myself to the gym after work, sheepishly comforted myself on the way with the thought that I can always go for a nice dinner somewhere later in the evening even though I knew that was a lie. Standing in front of my empty fridge and a sink full of dirty dishes from earlier this week, I was too hungry and depressed to do much else other than heating up a half piece of left over pizza Shelly had saved for me from the lunch she had from Sam's Club. It was one of those nights I wish I could have drank enough to forget. It was one of those nights I'm thankful for the fact that I can't drink to further destroy myself with alcoholism.