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tired
November 09, 2005
well, crap.
i keep trying to write, and i don't have it in me.
i had a veggie burrito from freebird's monday night, and i picked up the guitar again and started going through the lessons in the beginner's book. yesterday morning i woke, and i just couldn't, and wouldn't do it. i didn't go to work. didn't do anything, just kept trying to return to sleep, where there is no right or wrong, no winning or losing, no failure, no expectation, just oblivion interspersed with dreams, though even my dreams mocked me with stories of love and happiness.
yeah, here we are again. this has all been building, troughs and peaks still following a downward trajectory, despite some of the best efforts of my life to change things. the same words that have echoed throughout the entries of the blog are becoming oppressive whispers, constant, dissonant voices in my head - meaning, value, worth, hope, love.
the past month or so, old habits have returned. hard to maintain eye contact. hand-wringing. talking to people, walking alone, my hands are at war with one another, pulling, gripping, like they're trying to get a firm hold on.. what?
but the anxiety is just what's replaced the other pursuits that i used to fill my time and attention with. but i've increasingly come to see them for what they are.
i don't play basketball anymore, i think because i got tired of wanting to be a significant player, even on my parks and rec low-league team. i got tired of believing i could work hard enough and try hard enough to make that happen, only to be disappointed. for a while, i only played once a week, in the games. this season, i missed two games just because i didn't feel like being there, because i knew i couldn't handle the disappointment on that night. when i played despite that feeling, things got out of control, i got out of control, i played dirty, i bashed in the hood of my car.
i've gotten tired of believing that i could make myself better, more interesting, better looking, so maybe i would catch the right eye. i'm tired of women catching my eye, getting to know them, the wondering what if? tired of one of us, or neither of us, being what we had hoped.
i'm tired of living the lie of my "career". tired of my inability to decide what else to do, what i could actually do that would make me happy. tired of the knowledge that i've screwed myself financially to such an extent that my options are limited. tired of knowing that whereas the question in office space was "what would you do if you had a million dollars," my question is, "what would you do if your parents weren't here?" tired of feeling the guilt about that truth.
yesterday, i stayed in bed. i didn't get up to eat. last night i had two lone stars, because that's all that was left, and a few water crackers. this morning, i had to go to work. i had fun waiting for me, and i told my boss via email that i've been working really hard, but didn't feel like it was enough, and that i was beyond a point of frustration, and if that's where he was, too, then maybe he needed to find another attorney. we didn't talk today - i didn't really talk to anyone at work. i don't know what he wants or thinks.
and still, today, i didn't eat. it started becoming this thing of knowing i'd somehow be disappointed if i broke down and ate something. it wasn't entirely self-destructive, because i knew it takes a long time to starve enough to cause a real medical problem. eventually, i forced myself to reason through it, and knew that if i wasn't trying to die, that i'd give in eventually, and the longer i'd go, the more disappointed i'd be when i gave in.
so, i went and had some of the leftovers from a going-away luncheon, and they were pretty good.
tonight, my roommate said that most of the time, not eating was an attempt to reestablish a feeling of control. and yeah, i immediately knew that was what had been just beyond my grasp to answer the why of it.
tonight, i've tried to write. the other night, i was at the death cab for cutie show with someone who i have, to my annoyance, gotten to know, and have foolishly allowed myself to be interested in. the one you probably weren't going to hear any more about (except for this, of course). i had the idea of a story that would start there, that night, and go back and incorporate a lot of the blog entries, talking about the past, before returning the reader with all that knowledge, to see how it works out with this girl. it's resisting my efforts. it's too big, and i can't figure it out.
tired of trying to write, trying to make people think "wow." tired of writing the same thing over and over. tired of beating you all over the head with my thoughts and roller coastertired of the disappointment of not building an audience (though i'm grateful to those of you who've stuck with me." tired of yet another distraction, another thing that keeps me moving from day to day, from one mirage of hope to another, leading me to nowhere.
Posted by Rob at November 9, 2005 11:08 AM