Just give me one fine day of plain sailing weather...

Sad Sundays and un-medicated clarity.

Sad Sundays - Sundays bring me to a place that I think I have pegged. Its the brink, of a new week, a new set of issues and bullshit and work and life and in the same place the exact same week as the last and the several hundred before that. I have to sit here and think about everything that's coming, everything I have to do and tackle and take on and deal with and I automatically start sorting it all into piles and imagining various challenges that may or may not appear. And as I walk among these piles, quickly turning into mountains, I am reminded of how alone I am in this so called struggle, and all of this anxiety and planning and aloneness begins to drag me down. I cant breathe, I cant think, I can no longer see the light at the end of the tunnel or any of the big pictures I have painted inside my head. I am lying on the floor in a room full of troubles I have made for myself complaining of a fat stomach and a lonely heart. And its happened again, I have completely lost my point. Fuck. Sometimes writing helps, sometimes it just makes me feel like I've lost something else I once believed I was good at.

I hate happy, talented people. Mostly for their happiness and their ability to just be good at stuff. That probably makes me a bit of a bastard. I remember not being like this you know, I can remember being happy and not this crazy, I can remember conquering worry and all the things that now consume me. I can remember being free, unburdened by the knowledge that I am currently a pathetic wreck of the human being I want to be.

Shoot for the moon and land amongst the stars. Be Better. Let nothing hold you back. Accept nothing less then what you deserve.

This stuff is plastered across the internet and saved inside the file I have aptly named Project Happiness. Motivation for the unmotivated. Funnily enough it reminds me of Mulan, the training scene in which that are told to retrieve the arrow from the top of the pole, and when they go attempt to climb in unimpeded they are handed two weights with the titles of discipline and strength. At first this seems to make the challenge harder until Mulan uses both strength and discipline as tools to help her make the climb and retrieve the arrow. That's generally how most people live their lives, we carry the weight around that can accept. Some people carry morals, some honour and dignity and those people generally thrive. But those of us with anxiety and or depression we carry more then what we want. We cannot simply drop these weights we must tackle every day carrying them and everything else we believe in.

I cant concentrate tonight, im sorry. Once again this has turned into something I didn't want it to be. I hope this doesn't make me lose you, if I could ask one thing of you, it is that you keep reading, the next post and the one after it when they come. You don't have to call me or text me or care just keep reading this. I need that. If anything, to survive.  

Give me one fine day of plain sailing weather...

As usual it has been an eternity since I have posted on here. That has been largely to do with my brain shutting down and rebooting in depressed mode, the hard drive spins up and makes this constant sighing noise and I have to click all the icons seventeen times to get anything done. But I seem to finally be getting some functions back, like the one that lets me hook up to this ridiculous blog and spit out all my crazy and the one that lets me change the font.


Plain Sailing Weather - Frank Turner


I have a lot of things that I think express who I am in some way; Prints, books, Movies, CDs. This is all stuff. I think the monks got something right when they gave up all their worldly possessions for inner peace and a little inner knowledge. I say this because I can quote almost every season of scrubs and I know what type of cauldron Harry Potter bought in the first book of the series but I cant give you an accurate description of myself from the inside even if you give me a good solid hour.

(I love how people describe time that way. Solid its so completely ridiculous but it defines us so well as a species)


But! back to the point, I'm starting to think our penchant for nicknacks and artwork and all of those things that make us happy when we see them are really just a reflection of who we are as a person. Which is kind of obvious I know but when you zoom out from that it brings what seems like a crazy complex life down to simple terms. Life, getting older, collecting stuff is just finding more and more things that express parts of ourselves. You chuck something out because you have outgrown it you are showing the world that part of you is gone. You grow up and what you believe changes, your taste changes, your values change and with all of that so does your stuff. And with that comes the idea that maybe if you are misunderstood or feel like someone just doesn't get you, share your passions with them. Show them a piece of your soul you purchased of Ebay and let them into a world of you that maybe they couldn't see before.

So with all of that in mind I have a challenge for you. Tell me who you are, straight off the top of your head and then, take a deep breath and have a good long look at the stuff around you and then have another go at telling me exactly who you are.

If you have managed to stay with me until this point I tip my oversized and clearly fake hat to you. I know sometimes my psycho babble shit can be tiring but sometimes the writing isn't for you, in fact most of the time its for me. I hope I have made that pretty clear many times before. To say I haven't been well lately would be the understatement of the year. I went darkside very quickly and I scared myself how far down that rabbit hole I went. It almost got the call an ambulance levels, when you are afraid of yourself there is nowhere you can go to hide. The good news is that I'm on the mend for once and finally starting to take some big steps forward. I have officially started my diet, did all the grocery shopping today and set myself up for two weeks of stomach kicking excellence. If you work with me and your reading this, no I wont shut up about it. Because if I do I'll stop caring and then I'll quit and go back to getting fatter and the cycle starts all over again.

I have also come to accept my permanently single status as somewhat of a good thing. I spend to much time working on other people as it is, mostly because its a distraction from what's happening inside my own head. I have also come to the decision that the fact I cant find someone who will put up with me for more then five minutes probably has something to do with the fact that I've been a miserable bastard for the better part of a year. Ifsofacto the more I work on me the happier I am, the happier I am the more I smile, the more I smile the more people get to see my handsome face instead of my cranky one.

It feels good to be back here, I've missed it but it is getting late and I have a long day tomorrow of kicking ass and being awesome so to you who have made it all the way to the end I say goodnight and farewell, hopefully it isn't as long this time before we meet again.

Peace.