Same Old, Same Old…Fade Grey

It’s exactly what everyone does. I’ve not previously tried to buck the trend; I simply haven’t chosen to write to in depth about my feelings. In reality, that’s the main purpose of a blog. A blog that isn’t dedicated to a particular topic, that is. I’m not jumping on a bandwagon, but instead, I’m doing precisely what I should have been doing in the first place.

I don’t know why humans feel the urge to write their deepest, darkest emotions down as a way of releasing pent-up rage/sadness/fear. I have a vague idea as to why it helps (indeed, it’s helped put me in a better mood in the past), but in reality, it never solves anything, does it? It isn’t a magic solution to all the problems we have.

Nostalgia is torture.

Every now and then, I look back. And I’m constantly reminded of how easy things were; how uncomplicated life used to be. And how naïve a child I was.

Thinking about the good times past, and the bad times past; it never leads to any good. It just reminds you of how things were, and how you’ll never be able to obtain those moments of history again.

Living in the past is one of the most dangerous things a person can do. Kavi’s inference of past, as I understood it, was that that you need the past in order to survive in the present, and progress into the future. Without a past, how does the present begin, after all? But if a person chooses to reside permanently in the past, the consequences are diabolical. Often, the person will begin to rupture the bonds they have in the present, resulting in a lonesome future where all they can do is recall days in which they believed themselves to be happier. Such circumstances can be the death of many a good soul.

Whenever I reminisce, it’s only briefly. I dislike dwelling on events consigned to the pages of history, as it’s highly probable that it will just cause me to feel unsettled by where I am now.

To my intense annoyance, I slip in and out of periods of seemingly unending unhappiness. Sure, that’s no different from anyone else, is it? No, it isn’t; lots of people have the same fluctuations. Which brings me to the crux of this piece: is it right to disregard my issues with life as being minor, just because other people suffer too?

Going through two other blogs earlier today (Kavi and Skinner), I had a short session read of the content of each. Kavi has written pieces about how he’s feeling ever since I started reading, and I only came across Skinner’s today. Both go to show that men and women experience analogous inner conflict. And both made me think more about the things I have (or have not) got on my plate.

At this instant, I’m not in a bad mood. I’m not in a good mood either. I’m on an even keel, I’ll say. Though when I started writing this, I was probably a bit cheerier than I am now. It seems to be that contemplation just brings the air around and inside me down.

I don’t know whether I realise things about myself, or I just look my situation from another angle, trying to offer myself a new explanation as to why I keep feeling glum. Last weekend was not a happy time for me in general. In a conversation, I described some things about the way I felt, and I believe it was the first I had the term “depression” slung at me. It was because I’d become listless in many of my endeavours; even the thought of writing on this blog couldn’t perk me up. I wanted to feel as though there was something I could do to escape the melancholy. And nothing sprang to mind. Then something else did.

This seemed far too appealing for the circumstance. In fact, I hadn’t thought of it in the way that I realised I had in the past. The point is that it was a bad idea.

I spoke to Peter and Abbie on the Sunday, and after a while, ended up in hysterics from on-line “EPIC FAIL” videos. And this week? I’ve had a smile on my face nearly the entire time.

But why? I didn’t solve any problems. I didn’t fix any insecurities I’ve had about myself, or any uncertainties I’ve had about my future. Once again, I took those, and filed them under “R” for “resolve later”, in my mind. They’ll know who they are when I say this, but thank you for reminding me that distracting myself is the best thing to do right now.

I don’t like to think of my problems as serious, preferring to try and help others instead, and think about myself later. But, ironically, when I do think it’s wrong to think my troubles are bad, it just makes me feel worse for thinking that in the first place. It’s a very vicious downward spiral. At the base of that spiral, you will have locked yourself away from the world, and refused entry to your mind to all. And yes, when you’re there, you couldn’t possibly think about helping others. You’re too self-centred by then. Which obviously hurts even more, because I hate to feel like that, and simply want to help out and talk to my friends.

Furthermore, when you reach your lowest points, you begin to question relationships with the people around you. You question whether those you care about care for you, and whether they’ve been bad-mouthing when you’re back has been turned. The obvious consequence? Loathing. The only answer you see to all of these questions is the negative one.

I could go on forever. But the way I see it is that either I’m not comfortable with full revelations about myself, or I just don’t wish to burden others with stuff that I convince myself is trivial. And I don’t know. It’s the not knowing which is the most frustrating thing of all. I don’t know if I’m worse than I think I am. I don’t know if people I have fairly tenuous at times, yet existing (and ones I’d like to hold on to) friendships with, hate me. I don’t know if this will be real soon, or if I’ve made the same mistake once again. With that last one, I flip-flop between confidence and dismay every day. Can I sort it in the coming week?

I’ve always been an exceptionally paranoid person. But I think my self-confidence has been waning lately. I’m almost expecting the bad stuff to be true. But have I purely been fooled by my head again?

I wish I could be the constant happy I appear to be. And the happy that I am when I see the people I love. In true fashion, I’ve closed the gate again before letting everything out.