i made reference, a few posts back, to the notion of this blog as a therapy of sorts. while that may not have been its conscious design, that is quickly what it became. i’m not lamenting, necessarily, this thing’s function for me, simply pointing it out again.

because of its underlying therapeutic nature, i’ve noticed more than once, i’m more inclined to write when things are less than good: when i’ve got a problem, issue, or there’s generally just something gnawing at my brain.

when things are good, i post with less frequency and when i do, those posts are generally shorter and tend to be random musings about… whatever. when things are good, for whatever reason, i feel i have less to write about.

well, over the last few days, my need to write has been steadily increasing. and while trying to force sleep last night, i was giving a bit of thought to this curious need of mine to write when something in my life begins circling the drain. i can’t say i had an epiphany of sorts, because honestly, i don’t feel the conclusion i came to was particularly insightful. in a less frazzled and exhausted state, the answer would have come, i imagine, almost instantly.

painters, musicians, writers, poets, etc. have always drawn on dark emotions as fuel for their art. granted, i wouldn’t qualify myself, necessarily, as a writer, but depression has always been fuel for me. fuel for dark, sarcastic, self-deprecating humor. fuel for reams of pages of stories, journal entries, poems of self-reflection.

this train of thought, not surprisingly, brings me to the movie high fidelity and a quote by john cusack, “which came first, the music or the misery?” pat, i’d like to solve the puzzle; the misery came first. there’s no doubt in my mind.

and so, with misery it seems having descended once again upon me, i come back to the warm blanket of my childhood: writing. i’ve been writing for almost as long as i can remember. for as long as i’ve known there was something wrong with me, i’ve been writing. my first journal entries can be traced back to sixth or seventh grade (see chronicles journal). through all the years and all the pages of writing, a simple theme can be extracted.

for reasons beyond my comprehension and until a few years ago, i’ve hitched my happiness to the opposite sex and the notion of a relationship. in light of recent revelations and the formation of dark clouds over my mood, i find myself looking inward (as i often do) for a pattern, for answers to this, my most illusive of riddles.

let’s begin.

yes. of course, the primary event in question has to do with a girl. without using names, i met her two or three months back and we hit it off almost immediately. we went on an actual date (flowers, dinner, walk along the beach), which didn’t go entirely according to plan, but was remedied, or so i thought, by a later conversation. i never explained in depth the level of my ‘issues,’ but did say that i really liked her and that “i wasn’t so good with the flirty, touch, kissy stuff” and that i would need some help. she was incredibly gracious and understanding about it, which was great on a couple of levels and i had passed,  so i thought, the first big hurdle.

after that, i thought we were good. we were going slow, but given my insanity, it was good it seems, however, after recent revelations, that things were in fact not ‘good’ and as some point the train went off the tracks, so to speak. the thing i was most afraid of seems to have happened….

i ended up in friend territory.

i’m not entirely sure when, how, or why it happened. i’m not sure how far back the train derailed and part of my current frustration is not knowing that fact. oh, of course, there’s the fact that she started dating someone else in the meantime. that’s a major point of disappointment and frustration as well.

the first part, at least, is not new. its a scenario that’s played out numerous times before. while its open for debate whether or not i’ve ever actually had a girlfriend, one thing is true; i’ve remained friends with every single girl i’ve date (or not dated, whichever the case may be). i went to therapy to try and deal with this problem; one among many. i thought i had kicked it, though this is really the first time since i stopped my therapy i’ve had a chance to test myself. it seems, unfortunately, that i in fact haven’t kicked it.

of course, she thought we were friends. i couldn’t do what was necessary to make her think otherwise and while she says we ‘shouldn’t play the blame game’ i don’t know what else it could have been. honestly, i’m not sure i would believe her if she told me that had nothing to do with it.

and of course, she’d like to continue that friendship. i, on the other hand, am having doubts. clearly this is a pattern i’m doomed to repeat, that is if i don’t try and break the cycle. granted, the best way to break it would have been to actually ‘do’ something, but that train’s left the station (don’t ask me what’s with all the train references). instead, the only other option i see is simply to not be friends.

its horrible. i know. i really like the girl and she would make a great friend, but i’ve been down that road before. i’d end up bitter and frustrated and even though the list of friends i have here is practically nil, i honestly can’t decide which option i prefer less: continue down the friendship path i apparently already started down, or just move on.

in nearly eight years she was, for any number of reasons, the best chance i’ve had for a relationship. dammit i’m a stupid fucker and screwed it up just by being me. hurray!

while my problems with intimacy and the opposite sex rank at or near the top of my list of problems, it is by no means my only one. the others i had more or less dealt with during nearly three years of therapy. or so i thought….

my whole life (or at least a very large part of it) i’ve felt lost, lonely, and sad. i didn’t know myself. i didn’t think anyone understood me and even though i had good friends, i often felt alone. i often described the feelings as swimming out in the middle of the ocean in the pitch black of night, not knowing which way to go or when i’d hit land. for the first time since my therapy concluded, i feel a bit like that again.

i could easily say that the rejection of a very nice girl is the cause, but that wouldn’t really be fair. i felt the dark rumblings days before said (polite, apologetic) rejection. and while the feeling itself is unsettling, i think what disturbs me more is the notion that i might be slipping back into the skin of that former self. its a bit terrifying and my first reaction was to kiss hawaii goodbye and crawl back home, broken and utterly defeated.

there is no solution there anymore than this place is the problem and regardless of my current slip, i’m not that person anymore and refuse to pack it in… at least not yet.

the problem, however, may need a solution beyond simply waiting for the funk to pass. despite the (mostly) good thing i have here, i still feel listless. all my close friends have moved away. i have no prospect of a relationship whatsoever and i still have no career path; i haven’t really much of a clue as to what it is i want to do with my life.

i tried graduate school, but didn’t get accepted. i tried law school and didn’t get accepted. what’s more, my current employer might not be able to afford to pay me much longer. i never intended this job to be a career, though i did expect it to last more than six months (unless i had gotten into law school, grr).

i feel lost and alone. nearly everyone i know is either married or in a relationship. nearly everyone i know has a career, or at the very least, knows what it is they want to do. i feel like i’m falling behind in life.

i talked to a good friend of mine last night and while he tried to help, there was nothing he could say that was actually helpful. the problem is two fold. one, i’m not stupid and have thought about all the things he said to try and comfort me. two, it is a problem of which i am keenly aware and used to. i’ve been dealing with this shit for more years than i’d care to admit and its always passed, even if just temporarily. all i can do is try and ride it out and hope that things get better. soon….

i’m headed to the mainland in a few days to participate in and witness the wedding of one of my best friends. i expect it will be a great, fun weekend and just the thing i need to jar me out of this funk. we’ll just have to see….

and while i private email might be in order, the fact is, i simply don’t know yet what to say or how to phrase such an email. all i can say right now is that i’m sorry i fucked it up and thank her so much for being as understanding and patient as she was for as long as she was….