| 4 sep 2001 "memories are just dead men making trouble" god damn. saturday's tourettic meltdown has fried my brain. i don't how long this is going to last, but i just don't feel like writing in this journal anymore. what scares the shit out of me is that i can't seem to prevent these nervous breakdowns. i had two in 1999, two in 2000, and if that trend holds true, i'll get another one before this year is up. and i'm scared to death of when my brain is going to shut off again. it's such a scary thing to go through. at the root of it all is stress. i was convinced that the first couple of times i went through it, it was because i had worked for a couple of years without taking any vacation. i thought it was the cumulative effect of slaving away at work and not taking a break. but now, i've been taking it easy for most of this year, and STILL... it happened again! what the fuck? i feel totally helpless. it's like my brain is a fucking timebomb just ticking away, not giving me any clue of when it's going to go off until it just levels my life for a few days. basically, in the aftermath on sunday, it left my life a huge fuzzy blur... i don't remember anything i did on sunday except for sleep... i guess i woke up, wrote in my journal, watched some mtv, went back to sleep, got up, watched some more tv, and then went back to sleep. basically, sleep is the only way i can pass time and not be left in that horrific state. *sigh* i don't know what i can do. except sequester myself away from everyone and everything. and that's no way to live, so... *shrug* i'm just basically fucked, i guess. i've skipped one entry on a weekday (yesterday's), and it feels like it's been forever since i've updated. aside from dealing with this mess, there is nothing to report on my life. ----- one thing i like about my drawgroup is that we're all pretty generous. we go ahead and pay for little things like meals and movie tickets for each other. stuff like that. i think that we're genuinely sincere in paying for each other, and the best way to think about it is that we don't expect to be paid back... we do it out of our own generosity. that said, i still like to keep tabs on what i "owe" because i never like to feel like i shortchanged my buddies. so that means i owe jay two burritos from la bamba, and i owe alan a movie ticket or something. i think jeremy and i are even. :) i love my friends. some of them have expressed concern over how i was so fucked up on saturday, and i appreciate that... unfortunately, as much as i'd like them to help and stuff, this tourettic detonation of sorts is my own personal demon... i don't think any amount of help is possible from outside parties... it's just cigarettes and sleep. and that's one thing that bugs me when i'm like this. because i become 100% about ME. about my own preoccupations over my fear of ticcing and stuff. i can't seem to care about anyone else... all i think about is myself and my problems, and i hate that. i'm much more than a guy who just worries about my own problems... i want to be happy and frolic with my friends and crack jokes and fart spontaneously and everything... but in that state, i just invert my entire social being and focus on myself. that's no way to act, you know? it's like i can't but be selfish, and i can't stand selfish people, so arrrrrgh. bad bad situation. ----- something i wanted to say since friday night... beware of bad kissers. kissing is like the basic unit of affection. you _have_ to have it. i would feel totally at a loss if i were in a relationship, and the kissing weren't good. heh. when i got drunk with jo-ann at this bar in portland, the first question got the nerve to ask her was, "jo-ann, are you a good kisser?" ha ha. but really. i've been with some bad, bad kissers before, and it just kills the feeling! i mean, you want to express your affection with a nice smooch... and... WHAM-O! you get this lame-ass stiff-lipped monotonous emotionless kiss back. nothing worse than that to stifle the moment. gotta have the good stuff. anyways... i was just itching to say something about this when i got back from lucy's on friday night, but apparently, after a few days of just rotting there in my brain, the expose is much shorter than if i had actually written about it earlier. it was gonna be like a mini-rant or something! ----- sorry, people. i hate talking about my problems. it makes me sound whiny. and self-involved. but the only thing on my mind right now my TS and my desperation to control it. lan mentioned that i should smoke some pot or something. i wonder. i'm pretty sure it would totally help me if i took a few bong hits. but my big beef with marijuana is that it renders me totally useless. i can't work. i can't drive. i can't really talk. i may forget about all my problems and stuff, but i just wind up sitting there, swaying and eating uncontrollably. ha. sure, i want a reprieve from my crazy state, but reducing it into a blank meaningless existence seems kind of sad. hm. it's definitely an idea, though. but with legal implications and the fact that i wouldn't have the slightest idea of where to score some pot, i think i'll look for other alternatives. this weekend episode reminds me of how much our brains deal with that we can't see. by that, i mean invisible factors that we're not totally conscious of. we all must have some personal demons that haunt us from time to time. i mean, it's a good thing most of the time that we have so much subconscious stuff... because if we were totally aware of everything that we were thinking, i think our brains would get totally overloaded, and we'd just freak out. i think my problem is that i do get overloaded, and my body just shuts down from time to time. i can't see it coming, and all i can perceive is the process and the results, not the reason or the cause. it's like driving a car, and suddenly, it just blows up into a million pieces. no warning lights. no wierd behavior beforehand. just an explosion, and you're left sitting there, wondering what the hell went wrong. i think if i went to a psychoanalyst, he'd have a field day with me. i must have a ton of shit underneath the surface that eats at me daily, stresses me out unknowingly, and causes these breakdowns from time to time. yay. i'm a headcase. woo hoo. i used to make a big deal about "knowing" myself. like knowing who i am, what i think, and what i fear, and all that. now, i'm beginning to realize that after all this time of searching and pondering, i really don't know shit. my psyche is just this really dark hole that i thought i had peeked into and understood, but in reality, i haven't even begun to explore. that frightens me. what is stressing me out? *ponder* |