11 July, 2016

Socialization and the Broken Mind

It seems that the focus of human life is socializing. Interacting with others in the name of a common goal. Finding solace in the arms of your friends and family.  Yet,  despite socializing being such an integral part of human behavior and development,  I feel so out of the loop.

I can talk with people if we have a shared interest, or a mutual connection, however, nurturing that relationship is lost on me. It seems that I would rather let my relationships deteriorate than be the type of person to always make the first move.  Our much off any move at all that is.

I've been so tired, so hopeless,  so... broken. It is hard for me to want to curse others with my presence. Yes,  I feel like a curse on the world. A leech, a zit, an over flowing garbage can of human mass.  Always depressed, able to recognize my depression and various problems, yet unable to pull through, as if I were behind an invisible fence,  locking me in to the desolate pasture that is my life.

Melodramatic. I've heard others use that term while describing others in my similar situation, yet never about myself directly.  I wonder if what others think of me gets masked for the sake of their conscious, not wanting to directly offend me for fear of upsetting me. Stupid mind. Stupid stupid stupid.

So, on Saturday,  I sliced a bit of my thumb on a mandolin, while prepping carrots for Mac Salad... It should heal nicely. I've gotten lucky these past two events.  First the Hydrofluoric Acid,  now the accidental slicing.  I hope there won't be another accident soon.

I'm tired of hiding. Mental health needs to be accepted and talked about. I am somewhere beyond sad,  with bouts of such intense excitement,  that the world and it's problems seem so distant.  Yet,  I come down so fucking hard. My mood can go from these two extremes in a matter of moments sometimes,  depending on my external stimuli. Other times it is a slew change,  like watching a dark cloud come up the horizon.

Either way,  these emotions,  they hurt, they break my will to live, they take away my opportunity for progress.  Yet, not many people understand, or see, just how much I suffer.  Mainly because I chose to fake it around those I don't trust.  Up to and including my Psychiatrist. Why? Because showing weakness to those you don't trust is like turning your back on a wild animal.  I feel like I can't afford to risk my emotions opening up to someone like that. Especially not verbally.

So thus I write...


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