Post Secret

For anyone who's had their head in hole for the past few years, Post Secret is a site where people send in postcards of the secrets that they can't tell to anyone else. It's supposed to be a liberating experience. I'm not sure - I don't really keep secrets. I have in the past, and they usually come back to haunt me, usually because I'm lying to cover them up. So while the site interests me, I've never had anything to send in. *cue dramatic music* Until now. *duh dun dunnh*
It's not exactly a secret. Everyone in my life - hell, anyone who's even read my last post - knows what's been going on in my life. The problem is that it's driving me into another depression; again, this isn't a secret. Depression changes who you are and it's not exactly like the people around you won't notice.
My secret is that it's driving me towards a nervous breakdown and that I'm fighting it as best I can. It's just hard to fight the enemy that is yourself, and with depression breaking down my defenses, it makes it that much more difficult. But I like my job, I don't want to give a bad impression and I certainly don't want to lose what I do have in my life. I've been trying to stay active - today was the first day I called in late to work and honestly it was one of those duh moments ("oh yeah, I sleep more when I'm depressed" - you'd think I'd remember by now) that I hope to avoid in the future. I will try to start making it to the gym and eating right, but I'm afraid what's going to drag me down is the emptiness. I need human interaction. But I am fighting the urge to contact him tooth and nail. It won't help, but it still hurts. Everyday.
At any rate, I should actually get to work. It's busy but not enough to keep my mind busy...gym is definitely necessary.

I am in pain

(No words can describe it, and if they could, you probably wouldn't want to hear about it.)

"He that loses his conscience has nothing left worth keeping." - Coussin

Blogging is a job

I treat this outlet more as a journal than a place I really expect people to read. After all, most of the things I put into this are things that others wouldn't get about me. It's hard to find people who can discuss politics and comics, philosophy and video games. There are a few out there, but in practice it makes a better curiosity. It gets old not having people understand you. Or maybe they do and I'm just not very interesting. Whatever the case, it makes for frustrating conversation.
I'm disappointed again. For me, it's something that colors every aspect of my life when it occurs, and it occurs too often for my taste. It's just a friend, who I thought the world of, isn't what I thought he was anymore. I believed the best in him for a long time, and I think that best is slipping away.
"We do what we must, and call it by the best names." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Psychology of wasted potential

Human psychology is one of the most interesting fields there is with such a squandered potential. Psychologists don't study the complexities of the human mind; at least, not if they make money. They study drugs for problems that are created by society and prescribe those drugs. Sometimes they might actually talk to you to see if you have a problem, but more often than not it's just a precursor to getting out the prescription pad.
Don't get me wrong, sometimes with chemical imbalances and schizophrenia and real genetic disorders, there is a need for those drugs. I should know; I'm currently classified as type II bipolar, and have struggled with depression since I was a child. However, psychology as a field, the way the mind interacts with the body and society, what forces shape who we are and the choices we make - totally wasted. After all, lord knows "generalized anxiety" is something we've all felt from time to time, yet it gets more attention than the fact that on an evolutionary scale, our brains are still living in caves and we have every right to feel anxious in our society where one slipped word at work can lead to political repercussions and sometimes loss of employment. People aren't allowed to make mistakes anymore. Our brains, with their hormones and chemical synapses, aren't prepared to deal with the deluge of information that gets thrown our way. And emotions? Forget it - no place in the modern world, and it's wearing on us. Where are all the studies that deal with this? I read somewhere, probably in the works of Joseph Campbell, that myths were the tools that guided our transitions in life, from childhood to adulthood, from adulthood to parents, from parents to elders. It informed us what was expected and let us prepare ourselves mentally for that change, and they remain important changes even in modern culture. We need modern myths.
Wow, this is a ramble if I've ever seen one....

Work and Fear

I'm about to head into a lot of work. Coming from me, that's no small statement. While I tend to whine more than the men I know in my life, it doesn't diminish my capacity to work hard for a long time. As we speak, I'm on my 11th day in a row of working (as in 58 hours last week) and I have a major exam to take this weekend. I think if I were to be measured against laziness, I would at least come out on the positive side.
The main difference is that this work is uncertain. I've not done a lot of uncertain things in my life; in fact, that's where I tend to quail the most and find excuses not to do it. But this is unavoidable, and must be done, and I must find a way to do it. It's my Master's Project, after all.
The thing that strikes me the most is how much possibility it opens up. I'd forgotten the freedom of not telling myself no all the time. It might be a disappointment, but it just might be wonderful, too.

My charge to you, my nonexistent readers - go out and do something that you don't think is possible. I need company in this, for me, uncharted expanse.

Indiana Jones is dead

An icon is dead...yes, it's true. Henry "Indiana" Jones, Jr. has died a horrible and merciless death at the hands of the money-grubbing Evil Elf and the Spielberg doppelganger. Gone are the days when Indiana Jones sought treasure to help mankind, or knew the wisdom of leaving powers that are beyond you alone...no, in his latest adventure he retrieves the treasure and gets...married. Yes, that's what he gets out of it. Of course I get the heavy handed "knowledge is important, knowledge to cherish the one you've always loved" idea behind the script, but by the time it made it to the screen it had been puked on so many times and rolled in money that I don't think it shined the way it was originally intended. Oh, and Shia LeBouf swings through the trees like Tarzan.
I can't say enough bad things about this movie. To know that they spent ten years on this script and this is what they came up with is just agonizing. Indy talks too much. The plot is terrible. I mean.....aliens? Aliens, for god's sake? And for anyone who thinks I'm giving something away, I'm not. The movie starts out with an alien body in a crate in Area 51. You think it's going to be cool, you think they're rewarding you for knowing that the Ark is in a crate but no...it's a f*cking alien. Sure, you see the Ark for one shining second....and then you're out rolling around in a NUCLEAR EXPLOSION in a goddamn Frigidaire. Did I mention the gophers?
Everything about this movie reeks except for the chance to see Marion in action again, and even that isn't as fun as it could be. Here's a tip to make it better: STOP MAKING HIM TALK SO MUCH! I swear Indiana Jones turned into my grandmother in between these movies - I'm surprised he doesn't go on about what he had for lunch at some point. Speaking of time in between the movies, did they talk enough about crap you're never going to get to see and people you'll never know? It's like they're planning to fill in those movies later when the Evil Elf perfects his digital technology and they can make a younger Harrison Ford act through a computer. Also, you can't fire someone with tenure - that's the whole point of tenure!

I writhed in agony during this movie. Indiana Jones was my dream man. I used to play like I was him in the backyard growing up. Thanks, Evil Elf, for taking a huge shit on my childhood dreams. And if you put "I've got a bad feeling about this" into one more movie, I swear I will find you and punch you in the face.

Fucking pathetic

I wrote a long letter to my ex this morning and I couldn't send it because of how pathetic it seemed to me. Why are you hurting me, change please -- I mean, good god. If he was any kind of man he would do it on his own. Why does he need a fucking letter to remind him to be a good person and have some goddamn compassion?
That's what 10 years gets you, ladies and gentlemen. A pathetic whining mass who has plenty to get done but takes an hour to write a letter that's absolutely useless. Problem is, I don't know how to let go. I've honestly tried. Problem is that I don't know how to fill the gaping void he leaves in my life. He's more than just a romantic interest - he's a mentor and a role-model (at least professionally) and is the smartest man I know. I wish I could keep those parts and discard the romantic interest, but all of those things wrap up together for a truly wonderful experience. So what brought the trouble to Paradise then, you ask? Simple - he's a cheater. A big liar. An egomaniac who can't make decisions based on anything but his own wants and needs. Right now he's living with his ex (not me - the one he cheated on me with) so that he can save money. He was supposed to move out in January - he's still there and it's almost May. And yet somehow I'm supposed to believe that he cares about me and still loves me? Sad part is that I try really hard to believe it because it's what I want more than anything - to have that wonderful experience all the time.
When I was younger I had a best friend we'll call M. M and I had some pretty strange things happen to us, some of which I can't explain to this day, but the whole time I wondered if it was a lie. Eventually, growing up led to us parting ways - she moved on and I didn't. It strained our relationship to the breaking point because I still wanted the wonder. I think she got tired of it, maybe she got tired of me. The point of this is that I tend to fall in with people who lie to me, or at least put themselves in less than credible situations, and I believe them. Then once they're done they try to move on and I'm still stuck. Or in this case they keep stringing me along and I can't break free.
I'm beginning to wonder if real life will ever hold the joy for me that I want it to have. Everything hurts right now. I feel like a teenager all over again, powerless to change the things in my life that make me unhappy.
I can't think of any snappy lines or good sentences to end this post. You'll just have to go on without it.