Respite

Ok, I know I haven’t written in over a week, and I’m not terribly in a mood to write now. But I’m bored, so here I go.

In a way it’s been nice not to write.

Most of the stuff I write, as anyone who has read this stuff knows, is things that I think about involuntarily. Much of it is stuff I wish I didn’t know, and I wish I could forget. And there really isn’t a whole lot of things that I think about that don’t get written in here.

I think that the reason I haven’t written in so long is because I’ve actually had a bit of a break from all the crap that floats to the top of my head. These past eight days have actually been fairly good. Yes, I’ve had times where something popped into my head, but I’ve been able to get past it.

I really do wonder how other people’s brains work and if mine works differently than everyone else’s. I really can’t explain where everything comes from any more than I can explain where any of my other thoughts come from (although back in my “Christian” stage I would have probably attributed it to evil spirits or some crap like that).

Some people might not understand what I mean when I say that I can’t stop thinking about some of these things. They may think, “Why not just think about something else?”

Have you ever gotten in a fight with someone you are close with? I mean a REAL fight where you both end up saying things you wish you hadn’t and where you don’t make up right away at the end. You know how no matter what you are doing you keep replaying in your mind the events and thinking about how you should’ve done something different? And you just think about it, and think about it, and think about it. No matter what is going on, nothing can shake it from your mind, and you can’t “just stop.”

That’s how it is with me most of the time.

Contrary to popular belief, it really does suck being a poster-boy for depression and “mental illness” (or whatever my situation is called). As I’ve said before, I wish I could just be happy and naïve and write about stupid day-to-day things that no one would be entertained by no matter how high they were.

This is why I’ve written all the things I’ve written so far in my diary. Somehow, writing all this out and getting it into a semi-public place actually helps me stop thinking about it after I’m done writing. It’s like all day something is eating at me so bad that when I get home I just wanna write it all out and post it so that my head will clear.

Just as the Apostle Paul said he was compelled to preach, I am compelled to write.

I think the reason for the lull in my ponderings has to do with rediscovering a trick I used all the time when I was younger. I don’t know what the correct term for it is, or even if there is one. But basically I escape into my imagination.

Now that I think about it, it almost sounds like I’m stuck in an episode of the Muppet Babies. And yet it’s the truth.

Growing up I used to hate my life. I hated that my parents were so Christian and I hated all the church crap that I had to do. I hated that many of the things I liked were against my parent’s values, so they were forbidden. I hated the fact that I grew up “poor,” or what I saw as being poor. I hated the fact that I was who I was. And so I would escape into the one place that I could be whoever I wanted, have whoever I wanted, and no one-not God and not my parents-could go unless I let them in. I escaped into my mind.

Now granted, using imagination as an escape is no different than escaping in drugs or alcohol or anything else (except for the health issues) because when you come back to reality everything is still the same. But sometimes any relief, no matter how temporary, can be worth more than all the health or long life or anything else the “real” world could offer. It’s like being seriously hurt in an accident and all you want is something to take away the pain.

So this is something I actually started doing again. I can just sit somewhere, be it in my room, in my truck, or wherever and subconsciously continue doing what I’m doing all while being a million worlds away.

Sometimes I think it would be nice if the things that I imagine could be real, but they’d never be as perfect as they are in my mind. And besides, reality is only a matter of perception (for all you Matrix fans). If I choose to favor a reality that exists only between my ears, so what?

That’s what’s been up with me and that’s why I haven’t really written anything for a while. I’ve been on a vacation from the mental torment that has become my normalcy and my reality. Maybe it’ll continue and maybe it won’t, I dunno. Guess we’ll see how long it is until my next entry.

*

When dreaming I’m guided to another world

Time and time again

At sunrise I fight to stay asleep

Cause I don’t wanna leave the comfort of this place

*

So let’s go there

Let’s make our escape

C’mon, let’s go there

Let’s ask “Can we stay?””

*

Creed

(Bet you never would’ve thought I’d quote that song)