Blind

I’ve been bothered by things the past few months. Wait… why am I writing this? Doesn’t this make me a special narcissist? My ex called me that all the time. Especially when I tried to tell how I felt. I quit trying to express my feelings. Then again, I remember an early phone conversation with her when she complained that she had dated a narcissist and wanted to know what it was in the DSM (which I looked up and read to her).

Whatever. I don’t care (I desperately care).

I’ve been away for just under three weeks, doing my gig as an infantry instructor. It is easy to lose yourself in the timeline. Every day has a plan. You get up, do your job, go to sleep. Eating is scheduled. Sleep is scheduled. Everything is scheduled. It’s easy to lose track of days as they melt together.

Now I’m back. I’ve missed some things, a good bed, my own food, the gym. It is the last that brings me here. The CrossFit gym I belong to was moving into a new location while I was away. Tonight they are having a grand opening party, of sorts. Yoga and beer, it is called. There were 200 people registered for it. I drove by, intending to go, but saw it was packed with people, there were no spots in the parking lot, so I left. In honesty, I didn’t exhaust the parking search. I imagined going into the box and it filled with people, most of whom are not members and I don’t know, and I’d stand in a corner without a book to read, and lousy at small talk, leaving thirty minutes later. So instead of dragging out the inevitable, I left the parking lot and went home. But getting home I felt so very lonely. I hated that I didn’t go in. Who knows. I could’ve had fun. But it is a moot point now.

I feel so alone. That’s the weird thing. There are so many people out there that like me, some even love me (outside my family), yet why do I feel so very alone? I rarely drink. A bottle of whiskey will last weeks or months. I rarely will pour a drink. Yet today I went straight to the bottle and poured some whiskey. Still, I’ve only had two sips from it. It still sits next to me.

I know the arguments, and I see the counter arguments in my mind. I can hear how I’d argue worth if someone were telling me what I’m feeling. That wasn’t clear. Let me back up. I feel useless, ugly, worthless, and unlovable. That’s the truth. If someone were to be next to me this moment and telling me anything good, I would not believe it. If I were on a date with a pretty woman and she were flirting with me, I’d think she was doing so for other reasons than interest. If someone were sitting with me and telling me she loved me, I’d not believe her. If someone told me that I exited and turned them on sexually, I would not believe it. Because I feel the opposite, that they are all lies told for other purposes.

It is hard to go meet someone when you feel, deeply, ugly and worthless. It’s hard to accept attention from someone when you feel it is a lie.

Not long ago I was happy by myself. I liked myself. I felt good about myself. What the hell happened? How did I get here?

Another question, related. I’m getting older, have had only one relationship over 6 months. This past year I’ve lived paycheck to paycheck. I have no plan for any future endeavors, not grad school, not a career. The work I did to build my life two years ago is pretty much wiped out in the past year. If I had a friend who wanted to date a guy like me, I’d counsel to run away.

Back to my earlier question. Why in the hell am I writing this? I’ve said for the longest time that perhaps someone, my kids or partner, would be interested in my life. Perhaps it would be interesting to them to see my development. But what development? Am I really different than twenty five years ago? Same problems. Same loneliness. Same problems.

I hate this depression. My weakness now stirs hate within me. I detest my weakness of character and my failings.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s