I'm feeling really shitty right now. Nothing is going as planned. Everything is falling down around me. My health and my moods are unstable, and I can't to anything to change that. I am helpless - or very nearly so. I draw on my last reserves, but they will not be enough. Just fumes. I know I was discussing earlier that suicide is irrational - and I am certainly in an irrational state. I have no buoys to keep me true. God, I hate this feeling! This feeling of helplessness and of capitulation and of not finishing what I've started out to do. I am a quitter. I am a loser. The thoughts are screaming in my head, and there are so many options to choose from. Will it be the already afore-referenced fumes? The old pill-tosser? Draino? Jumping off the bridge into traffic? Consumption? The menu is bountiful. God help me.
I've been sick the last couple days - yesterday I was either asleep or hunkered down, shivering in front of the TV, so I didn't write about my Saturday evening or Sunday morning.
Well, HC picked me up at 7PM on Saturday. We were going to play games and drink Gin and Tonics. We got to HC's, and she said that we weren't allowed in the basement because her mom thought that it was too messy, even though that's where all their games are kept and that's where HC usually drinks. I was looking forward to this night from Wednesday night, because we had had so much fun together then. We're happy drunks together! Well... "drunk" - we haven't really been drunk with each other; we've just had moderate drinks together. Anyways, HC brought up the stuff from the basement, and we set up at her bar counter, and she cut up some lime, and mixed herself a drink - I copied. It was good! I tried some gin by itself, and really, I can't tell the difference between gin and vodka - it maybe has a bit of a twist that vodka doesn't have. She offered me some ice out of a popsicle tray, because they apparently don't have ice-trays, and their freezer's ice-maker doesn't work. haha - it was quite difficult to get the ice out. After our first drink, we cracked open "Scruples", and began asking each other questions. This is a fun game when you're playing with a group of people, but it's even more fun, I think, when you're doing it one-on-one, because of the conversations you can have regarding the questions and our reasons for our responses. There were periods when we had only one question in an hour because of the conversation that came up, and then there were periods when we averaged three questions per hour. It was a lot of fun talking with HC. We played until about 1:30AM. I called MHC as per our pre-agreed plan, but he wasn't answering the phone. We played for another five minutes, and I called again - still no answer. But HC had to go to bed, which I sympathized with. So I decided I'd walk home - although we'd only had a couple drinks over the course of the evening, I didn't want her to risk herself by driving.
So I walked home. I was expecting it to take a lot longer than it did - especially the stretch down Waverly, south of Taylor. But at Taylor, that's when even more excitement happened. I saw some seven kids - maybe 14 or 15, decked out in the latest "urban youth" attire - flowing white hoodies with black lettering, jeans down to their bums, baseball hats askew, a horrible strut and attitude in their walk. I walked past them, and I heard calls of "howdy" and "hey there" and I tipped my head, and continued walking on. "What the fuck?!" I heard a patter of footsteps on the pavement, and suddenly there was a weight on my back, and hands reaching around and fumbling with my face. Another hand grabbed me, and spun me around. I followed it with a severe swing of my left arm, and hit some ribs. I grabbed the hands on my face, and tried to flip that hooligan off my back - he had his legs tightly around my waste though, and held on. I swung around, and bashed him against the traffic light. I don't remember the exact sequence, but the rest of them attacked me. They'd punch and kick at me, landing their blows, but I'd return them with ten times the fury and power, knocking one down with a power stroke, or a one-two to their chest. This went on for a while. They hit my face and head, my neck and back, my kidneys, my chest and stomach. One of them pulled out a pocket knife - like a Swiss Army Knife, and tried to stab me with it. I grabbed his wrist as it came towards me, and punched the knife out of his hand, grabbed him by the neck, and shook him several times before throwing him down. There wasn't a lot more attack left in these boys - they were whipped good, and as one bolted, the rest followed him. I gave chase, because I was pissed off. I caught two of the hooligans, and was tempted to ask them to take me to their parents, like I did with the vandals at CoTW when I was youth pastor there, but I was tired, and instead, I called the police. There happened to be a cruise car in the area, and they showed up within five minutes. Fortunately for me, as the cop car came into view, one of the kids tried to bolt, and I caught him, but once the cops were on the scene, the two punks tried to say that I had attacked them! The cops patted me down, and searched my backpack, and found a bottle of vodka. I explained I had been drinking at a friend's, and that that was why I was walking home. I described the attack, and what I was able to see of the seven - clothing and distinguishing features. I gave the cops my address and phone number, as well as HC's, for corroboration of my story. They gave me an alcohol breathaliser test, and I had a 0.4 alcohol level, when I think the legal limit (for driving) is 1.2 or something like that. They must have believed my story, because they put the two kids in the backseat, and let me walk the rest of the way home - about forty minutes. They said they'd call me if they had any questions. I was sore, and pissed off. I got home, and was interrogated by my mother on why I was home so late. I explained being jumped, and that I had been drinking with HC, which is why I had to walk home. She gave me the third degree on drinking so "heavily", although I had only had three drinks in the space of six-point-five hours. I guess finally she was convinced of my story, and was relieved that I was okay. I hope she doesn't think that HC is a bad influence on me, because I think both times we've drunk together, it was my idea. And like I said, neither time did we get drunk.
I'm still sore - my whole body feels like a big bruise, although in the mirror, I don't have a mark on me. Those punk-ass kids just weren't as tough as they thought they were. I hope I didn't hurt any of them too bad - one of the guys I caught was running with a limp - I think he's the kid that I kicked with the flat of my foot, his inner thigh, and following through until he hit pavement. The other kid was like six feet tall, and 140 pounds - he was squinting through both his eyes, and bleeding from his mouth and nose. They both looked to be in a lot of pain. And I know that at least a couple of them were bleeding from their heads. The stupid hooligans. And the irony is that earlier in the evening, HC and I were talking about pacifism, and how I thought that in theory I was a pacifist. Turns out I'm not. And now I know that I can handle myself in a fight - this was my first one. MHC was very apologetic when he heard the story, he didn't have his cell on him, but he pointed out that I was able to beat up seven 14 or 15 year olds - it would be a different story against seven adults.
I talked on the phone with HC yesterday, and she asked me if I was feeling suicidal. I responded 'no', for I was not - but I was surprised by the question. It feels like ages ago that I was depressed and suicidal. Yet as I look over the recent posts in my journal, it was really less than a week ago. I guess I just get so wrapped up in my present emotions that I have no recollection of the past - or can look to the future. Is this a good thing, or bad? Or does everyone feel this way? I don't feel guilty about the past, or hold grudges for very long. While I still mourn the loss of my friendship with people like AD, I don't dwell on that - it's past and gone. Sure, it would be awesome if one day she called me up and said "hey, let's have coffee together", but I don't expect that, nor do I look forward to that. I don't regret my past suicide attempts. I don't regret that I was unable to complete my essay last week, or write my exam. I don't know what tomorrow will bring, and so I don't worry myself about these things. I kind of wish I had a better memory in both directions of time (both the past and the future). I wish I could reminisce, and hold on to the joys of yesteryear, or look forward to the things to come - a bright future. But I simply cannot. I don't know why that is. So when HC asked me if I was feeling suicidal, it took me by surprise - because the insecurities I was feeling a week ago, I feel no longer. Does that make me inconsistent? Does that make my mood and personality maverick? It's so strange to think that there is anything in the past other than stories. I feel no emotion when it comes to things in my past such as emotional neglect, or sexual abuse, or what have you. They are simply the stories that make up my life. And I suppose that's why I can be so candid with people about what has happened in my life - why I'm "so real" to borrow from Bad Dog of Chicago. Hmmmm...
Just had a wonderful phone conversation with HC. It's so nice to have someone to talk to and to be good friends with; someone who's willing to be there for me. I hope that I can be as giving as she is.
I slept for most of the day again. I woke up at 9, and then went back to sleep at noon until 5PM. Now I'm working on putting my entries into my journal. I'm listening to Tony Bennet's love songs - brings back so many memories of high-school, and I can still sing along to most of the songs. It's a melancholic feeling.
I slept all day. Except for a couple brief moments when I was up. Is it the new ciroquil that I'm taking? Or perhaps it was the glug-glug HC and I drank last night? Or the combination of both? Anyways, it was a fitful sleep. I had good dreams. I dreamed that I disabled all the nuclear weapons in the world, covertly, and when the US Military found out, they entered Canadian soil, and arrested me from my home. I went along with them, but then that night, escaped their cells and went back home. Again, they invaded Canadian soil to arrest me, and again I escaped. This happened many times, and eventually my captors became tired with it, and began to torture and beat me to find out what I had done with all the weaponized nuclear matter. They tried every torture and execution technique ever devised, including pulling me by each of my arms and legs by a jeep, and then taking an axe to my abdominen. What they didn't realize during their tortures, was that I had invisible cameras recording the whole thing, and sending it to the CBC newsroom to distribute internationally. All the nations and peoples were outraged because of I had done great things to end poverty and to equip the disadvantaged and end international strife. When President Obama found out what was going on, he called the military to end their torture of me, and the military made a coup, and took over the country. The rest of the world couldn't tolerate this, and so, led by Canadian Forces, the whole industrialized world sent troops in to the States to quell the coup. There wasn't much action on either part, because both sides had force shields which I had designed for them. So the allied forces did the old siege tactics, and starved out the military bases until one by one, they surrendered. Meanwhile, I had been beaten and my body destroyed, all the blood having seeped out of my body, every bone in my body broken, my heart and lungs and other major organs pierced or crushed, and I was left for dead on the lawn of the military complex where the world could see my inert body. Again, what they didn't know, was that I had filled my body with the micro-machines which repair the body, that I discussed in my last dream, and they acted as blood for my body, carrying oxygen and nutrients to all my organs, but were unable to repair the damage done, so focused they were on keeping my body alive. Eventually, the base I was held in capitulated, and released me, and I was discovered to be alive. I was taken to the hospital, where I was revived, and healed. Yeah... that was part of my dream that "makes sense".
Just got back from Leadership Seminar. I have a lot to think about. The end result of the six weeks was not what I was expecting. I had expected that it would be a seminar that would equip one to lead in a Christian context. But what the result was, was being wrangled into a leadership group - a group that will form the core of the church body. I am honoured, humbled, and confused as to why I have been included in this. The main focus of today was prayer, based on 1 Timothy 2, where Paul sends Timothy to be a leader, and to equip others to lead - and that we should similar in our focus. This will be based on individual relationships. We prayed for a long time, and the praying was good - I realized that I have a lot of spiritual shortcomings. People were muttering and "amen"ing and "thank you Jesus"ing and "Yes Lord"ing, and one guy was muttering what could have been tongues or just babble - all of this I found very distracting and even very disconcerting and frightening. But now the challenge remains: what will I do with my gifts? How will I contribute to this church? This church that I am now calling my own. What relationships can I make? What dynamic do I want in those relationships? Will they be close friendships? Relationships of spiritual walking together? Mentorship? What can I offer to others?
So bored. ALL day. I awoke at 5AM, and couldn't think of anything to do, so I lay in bed until 1:30. Bored. Actually, I was day dreaming that I came up with a microscopic robot that goes into the body and is able to heal damaged cells, and cause new cells to form where the damage is severe. Thus, it would be able to eliminate cancerous cells at a molecular level, and only the cancerous cells. Or, it could restore the neuro pathways of someone who has suffered a stroke. Or it could kill viruses and bolster the immune system. And so on. It was a pretty fun day dream. I was also the CEO of Safeway... haha. This afternoon, I finally finished writing up the "Evil" post of a couple weeks ago, and a few more. Then I ate. Wow I'm bored talking about it. I wanted to call HC just to talk, but chickened out. Tonight is the last session of the Leadership Seminar at CFC. I'm glad. I enjoyed the sessions, but I like having my evenings open to do whatever. Not that I ever really have anything important to do...
Had a really good night with HC. I picked her up at 6, and we went to East Ocean Restaurant, and had A15 and 134 - Spicy Ginger Beef and Bean Curd with Assorted Vegetables. HC really liked the ginger beef - I preferred the bean curd (so many mushrooms!). I tried to teach her how to use chopsticks, and tried to insist that she use them, but in recompense, I had to use my chopsticks in my left hand. I was somewhat successful, but HC couldn't handle her chopsticks. Further lessons will be required. We laughed, and had good conversation. She asked me about my depression and such, and I think I answered candidly, but I maybe didn't let on that it was a serious as it was. But she let me know that she cared, and is there for me, which I really appreciate. I gave her the "happiness" bracelet that I found in Evil a couple weeks ago, to remind her to be happy when she's feeling depressed. Although the way our conversation went, it really should have been her giving me the bracelet - haha. After dinner, we went to Movie Village, and looked through the foreign films. We tried to find "The Discreet Enchantments of the Burgoise", which I once watched with LP, and that HC really wanted to watch, but it's out for a week, so no dice. We then decided on the movie "Immortal", which is a French foreign film, about a blue-haired, blue-teared girl - I thought this sounded hilarious. As we watched the movie, it was indeed hilarious - but not in the way you'd want a film to be. It was quite possibly the worst movie I've ever seen. We laughed throughout, about the terribleness of the plot and the interplay of CG and real-life action. When we got to HC's house, which I haven't been to since I helped SC move out a year and a bit ago, Mrs. C was watching a movie, so we sat in the den and listened to some of HC's favourite music, and talked a bit. Her dog Sadie came in, and as HC had said, she's a very affectionate dog. I enjoyed petting and scratching her, until Mrs. C called her away. I didn't get around to talking to HC about what I had wanted to talk to her about... maybe on Wednesday when we meet again. We're going to go for El Salvadorian food! Yum! Anyways, it was a delightful evening.
Yesterday, MT and EK came over, for the art show/CD release, and then stayed afterwards for a dinner of soup, salad, and hor'devours. Next to HC, EK is the most stunningly beautiful woman I've ever met. MT is a very lucky man! Despite his protests to the contrary. The T family has always been a favourite family friend since before I was born. I was impressed that I was able to relate and converse with MT and EK on a person to person basis, opposed to through someone else such as MHC or Dad. We decided that MT and I will cook together some time - I'll teach him the basic principles of cooking, and we'll cook for our combined families. After they left, I was completely wasted. It took a lot out of me to be sociable yesterday. Today I stayed in my room, day dreaming, until I left for HC. I feel marginally better than I did this week. I'm drained, but perhaps in a good way. Seeing HC definitely lifted my spirits, as did talking with MT and EK. Perhaps life is more bearable than I thought.
God, I'm tired. It's Dad's art show and MHC's CD release. Since 10AM. I've been up since 3AM. MHC has been fairly successful - last time I heard, he had recouped his costs with over twenty CDs sold! I'm feeling marginally better than the past couple days, in part because I've been forced to put on a jovial face for the guests - but it's exhausting. My whole left arm has been hurting all day - a deep, penetrating pain that has root in the bone, and has spread through all the tissue. My fingers are tingly, like I've pinched a nerve. God, I'm tired. I will be very glad when this whole thing is over. I tried to call HC this afternoon to see how her exam went, and maybe to go for a walk or something, but I didn't get through. SC is at EB's family's place carving pumpkins. CL came by with M, and it was good to see her, but it's always stressful to meet with her with her boyfriends - I don't know how to relate to them, or what kind of background I should give the conversation (Do I explain what I'm saying as if neither of them know what I'm talking about? or do I carry on a conversation with CL, knowing she knows the background, and ignore the ignorance of M?) I have so little motivation to do anything - even calling HC back, or writing in my journal, or watching TV on ETC's laptop, never mind doing my homework.
So tired. I went to sleep forty minutes ago, and was rudely awoken by screaming and knocking at my door. Groceries had arrived. LD called this afternoon, and offered me two tickets to the WSO for this evening. I'm very flattered that she thought of me! I invited HC, but she has a Stats exam tomorrow morning, and so declined. I then rushed to my impromptu appointment with Dr. G, and waited. I didn't think I'd get home in time, so I offered the tickets to MHC - he didn't want them either. Dr. G is changing up my meds again, with the hopes of stabilizing me, but if that doesn't work, I'll have to go to the hospital. He said my safety is paramount. He also wrote me a note saying that I've been sick, and that I won't be able to write my exam or paper in the predictable future. So that's a bit of relief. Both SC and HC are busy tomorrow... I don't know where I'll go to get away from the hustle and bustle here. It's definitely a point of anxiety for me. I'm really at my breaking point. The smallest tasks paralyze me.
Well, I don't feel any better than I did yesterday. I'm trying to think through all my options and what effect they'll have on people. Really, there is only one opinion that I really care about right now. I don't have to tell you whose that is. I am feeling so restless; so tumultuous; so angry; and sad... I know people are trying to tell me that they care about me and love me, but it's not getting through. People are giving me safer options and ways out of this, but they can only see the short term; and in my experience, these ways out don't work. What I need is a miracle - some great happening that will turn this all around, and banish these demons from my mind and flesh. I don't know what that would look like. The care people are proposing they have for me seems to be incredibly self-centred. "I don't want you to hurt yourself, because I'll feel bad." That's all it is: don't be angry at me; is there anything I have done or could have done? Or, they don't respond to me at all. I don't trust anyone. No one around me is safe.
The day hasn't gotten any better. I skipped my anal probing doctor's appointment this afternoon - I just wasn't up for having a camera stuck up my bum. Instead, I napped for a couple hours. I suppose in a way, that was a form of relief from this agony in my head - this torment in my soul. I reiterate the sentiment I expressed when I wrote of death several weeks ago: perhaps it is better to die and to cease from consciousness than whatever other options there may be. Dr. G called back - he's made an appointment for me for tomorrow evening at 5:30. He's definitely shown his colour as a caring doctor, having called twice last week to follow up on my lack of sleep, and once returning my phone call at 11:30PM regarding a concern I had had. So that's a plus, I suppose. This afternoon wasn't going so well. I tried to wake up Mom to cancel my doctor's appointment for this afternoon, and she completely ignored me. I went into the family room, and wrapped a plastic bag around my head, and tied it on with a belt. I don't think I like that method of suicide anymore. Your body begins to spasm, as it does when you hang yourself, but because you're not free-hanging, it just doesn't have that airy feeling to it. Plus, there's the hot plastic sticking to your face, wet with moisture, which is kind of ick. On days like today, I wish we had a garage. But I have ideas on how to make that a moot point. I can follow in Grandpa's steps. Family tradition.
I called HC earlier, and she says she's feeling better, which confirms that she wasn't feeling good, but she wouldn't tell me why. She has an exam in about an hour from now - I'll send her all the positive thoughts I have left, that she does well. I'm thinking of my own exam coming up - and my essay. I just don't know how I'm going to manage them. I feel as if I should be hospitalized again. I remember thinking at the time, that it was hellish, and I found many quotes in "Paradise Lost" to equate what I was feeling. But at the same time, when I had a room to myself, it was kind of cool - at least that's my after-impression. But I'd be losing my whole term of school, and all the money I've poured into it. What would my few friends remaining think?
WD's trying to cheer me up and talk me out of suicide. Isn't that cute? Well, I appreciate the thought, but I don't think it's working. I bought the first of MHC's debut album. She's saying that there are parts of me that need love, and that I'm abusing them. That may be, but I don't know how to love myself any more. I don't hate myself, but I just don't want to live with this pain anymore. Do I like myself when I do things like this? Well, I don't particularly like the idea of giving up, but I just don't know what else to do. Mom betrayed me. I asked her for help this afternoon, and she sent me packing. Damn. Dad tried to help when he came home, but again, I don't know how to accept love. I don't know how to accept help. And apparently I don't know how to ask for help either. WD's saying that I need to let the other, uninjured parts of me take care of the hurt parts. How do I do that?
I've been up for just over two hours now. I think I may know why I'm feeling so down in the dumps right now. It's the meds. On Sunday, my dosage for my anti-psychotic was reduced by half, and as I look at my charts, that's more precisely when my mood began to decline - when my motivation began to decline. So now I don't know what to do. Do I call Dr. G, and tell him that the lower dosage isn't working? I don't know that conclusively. Just tell him that I'm incredibly depressed and unmotivated? What do you do when you feel like every breath you take is a labour - a struggle? When your body just tells you, I feel like giving up? I know that somewhere inside of me, there is something that wants to continue - to go on, and to do the things that I've committed myself to doing - classes, essays... but I can't grab a hold on that part of me. It is evasive. It eludes me. It's like swimming in a lake, and you feel like you're going to drown, and if only you could grab on to something, you'd be safe, but you can't feel anything, and you're thrashing around, panicked by the imminent disaster that's about to enfold you, when in fact, there is solid ground but inches beneath your tumultuous feet, and if only you relaxed and let your body calm down, you would feel that ground, and you'd be safe. But as it is, you cannot go on, and so you drown.
Where is God in all of this? Where is that comforting hand? He would let me drown. He would let the panic overtake me. God is invisible. Why is it that I have lost so much of what I hold dear in my life? Why am I in such a jumbled mess?
Fall has finally arrived. The trees are finally changing colour, and the leaves are falling. At times it is quite beautiful to watch the leaves fall from the trees as the wind shakes them so gently from their branches.
I've slept for the last 48 hours, pretty much non-stop. Catching up on all the sleep I missed last week, I guess. I'm still tired. My whole body is sore and aches - probably from laying on my mattress for 48 hours. Still not feeling motivated to go to school. Actually, I really feel like dropping out again. Just ditching the whole thing. It just feels so overwhelming right now, with the sleep issues, and mental issues, and essays, and new professors - I still haven't been to a lecture with Prof. R, and only one lecture with Prof. G. I have no motivation to get started on my essay, or to study for my exam on Tuesday. And this weekend is Dad's art show and MHC's CD release, so I don't know how well I'll be able to work this weekend. I just want to hide away from the world. What an agonizing two weeks this has been.
I still haven't heard from HC. I'm really concerned about her. I had wanted to call her up yesterday evening to see how she's doing, but I slept through that alarm. I'll have to call her tonight. I don't even remember when I last saw her. I mean, I know I saw her last Wednesday, but I don't remember if I've seen her since then, or even talked to her? It feels like my memory just did a huge dump of stored information. I'm so near to crying - I don't even know why. I'm just exhausted. So very exhausted. What's wrong with me? What's happening? According to my daily log, I haven't been happy since the evening of the 21st. When was that? Oh - that was last Wednesday. Go figure. And I've been irritable and anxious since then too. I just feel so rotten. GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!!!!!!
Slept two hours last night. This is growing old fast. I still prefer a lack of sleep to being overweight, so I prefer the ziprasidone over the olanzapine. I watched the last forty mintues of The Matrix, which is really the only good part anyways, and then after trying to sleep for another hour, unsuccessfully, watched the last hour of Superman Returns. I tried to sleep for another two hours, but nothing.
Yesterday I had two doctor's appointments. One with Dr. H, where I had an EKG and blood tests - I have an extra heart beat, but it's okay. And I was anally probed, which was incredibly embarrassing and invasive - but Dr. H said he'd hook me up with a (proctologist?) to check for why I have blood in my stool. And I have a cyst on my back, which is fine, until I get married, and then it should be removed, because otherwise my wife will be picking at it incessantly. Then I met with Dr. G, and he changed up my meds again. He told me that I should have sex, because I'm probably sexually repressed. And he went over a bunch of possibilities of what I could have, in terms of diagnosis (bi-polar, schizophrenia, other mood disorders), and that we'd just try a bunch of different combinations of medicines until we've got it right - I can sleep, I'm mentally and emotionally stable, etc. If that doesn't happen, re-hospitalization may be necessary because they can change meds and doses on a day to day basis, whereas Dr. G cannot provide that service.
Now I'm debating if I want to go to school or not. I really don't feel excessively tired, but I am really lacking in motivation to hop on my bike and go and sit through two boring classes and a spare. I know I SHOULD go to school... but I really don't feel like it. I have to get to work on my essay, which is a completely different subject, but true nonetheless. I've had the worst burping fit all night that I've ever had before - I just can't stop burping. I don't know why. I didn't eat anything peculiar yesterday. Actually, all I ate were some brussel sprouts with feta cheese for lunch.
I finally got some sleep. Three hours. After 80 hours without sleep. But I woke up to a fantastic dream that I just wanted to continue! It was about some romantic interlude and family interactions with her.
Another sleepless night. That's 75.5 hours without sleep. Yet Mikael doesn't feel overly exhausted right now - his third wind? (The second would be his evening with HC on Wednesday) Mikael has a good idea of where he wants to go with his second essay for Evil - he just has to hunt down his resources and take notes on them. Then compile them into a coherent piece of writing. No biggie - should have it done by lunch. Haha. Seriously though, he should have no problem finishing it this weekend if his lack of sleep doesn't get in the way. Or, conversely, it could help, if Mikael is cogent of mind.
Mikael feels so alone. He needed to ask for a hug from his Mom yesterday, and it didn't help. He doesn't often get hugs - usually only when he asks for them, since WD left. WD used to give Mikael hugs whenever they parted ways. That was nice. Mikael misses that. There was a moment yesterday, during the commercials of The Office when He pointed his finger towards ETC's face and he tried to block Mikael from picking his nose, and laughed so hard, that was fun... but Mikael is alone. Despite being in a house full of people, he doesn't feel a connection with anyone. This is the depression after the high of being with a good friend. The friend leaves, or he leaves, and he feels empty once again - the laughter has died away. What would remedy this? Is this a pathological symptom? Do others feel this way? I know that there are people that care about Mikael: Mom, Dad, ETC, MHC, KJC, HC, SC, WD, ABP, BP, TB, Apau... Yet there is so little affection shared between them. The connections are not deep. Mikael misses having friends that he could see any time; call any time, without worrying about being a pest. He misses AD, NF, JF, MF, ABP, BP, KJC, WD, LP... Mikael doesn't have any social connections at school, in any of his classes. When Dr. M was teaching, Mikael was able to engage intellectually, and that would fill the social gap. When he was reading about Che Guevara, he felt a kinship and admiration for this man. I don't want to belittle the relationships that Mikael does have; they are fine in and of themselves - the problem lies completely within HIM. He doesn't want to be a burden on anyone.
I remember a time when Mikael was able to call AD up on the phone any time of the day or night, and they'd have long and fulfilling conversations. They were able to share with each other in a way that Mikael has never been able to connect with anyone else. They'd drop by each others' houses or places of work any time. They'd go out for coffee, or to eat. They were able to build each other up, and support each other when one of them was down. Mikael doesn't have that now. Haha - AD was also the one female friend that he never had romantic feelings for, however brief those feelings may have lasted for others. Mikael has two friends in Winnipeg - brother and sister. That's a bit awkward, because he doesn't want to betray the trust of either one of them to the other, or to compare them to each other. Although he intentionally pursues relationships with both of them, it was not intentional because they are siblings. They just both happen to be fantastic people; people that Mikael admires more than he ever tell them. Again, he doesn't want to be emotionally dependent on them. He can't afford to become dependent on someone. So, he is emotionally secluded, and because of that, lonely. He has too many needs to be able to rely on only a small group of people. Mikael doesn't want to smother them. Mikael must fortify himself, and grow strong and resilient on his own.
He must bury himself in intellectual pursuits. That would fill the gap. That would cause personal growth and development. I don't want Mikael to die without fulfilling his full potential. The things that he could do! If only he set his mind on them, and didn't disturb himself with human interaction. Human interaction must be overrated. RESOLVE! GROWTH! We must expel emotion from our body and mind.
I haven't slept in 70 hours. That's almost three whole days. I've dozed off a couple times for short periods, but nothing substantial. I used to have insomnia quite regularly and 70 hours wasn't unheard of - my all-time record is approximately 106 hours, if I remember correctly. Anyways, it's painful to be awake for so long. Your mind is fuzzy and you can't concentrate. Headaches are predominant. Vision blurs. Reaction times are down. You can't eat. You can't drink. Urinating and defecating becomes painful. The last 24 hours have been terrible. MHC forced me to stay in bed and lie in the dark all night, enforcing my obedience with his iron will. I lay there, unable to sleep, and contemplated various ways I could get to sleep. MHC had offered to punch me out, and I thought that that was a good idea as any. So I took a metal can, and began bludgeoning my head with it, in an effort to knock myself out. The can lost against my head. When that didn't work, I tried punching myself in the face and temple, which is surprisingly difficult to do. I took a piece of wood and laid it on my temple, and began to hit it as hard as I could with a hammer. No luck. There was only one thing left that I have experience with that will render me unconscious, and that is hanging myself. I did not hang myself. When this idea popped into my head, I must admit that I was quite excited by it. The spasms and descent into darkness is one of my top three favourite physical sensations. I realized, however, that this was dangerous, and I woke my Mom up to take care of me. She called my psychiatrist who later replied that the insomnia might be due to my new medication, and that I should go to emergency. In the meantime, however, ******JUST IN: FIVE POLICE CARS ARE NEXT DOOR AND THE DOOR NEXT TO THEM. I NOTICED THEIR FLASHLIGHTS, AND WAS GOING TO GO OUT AND CONFRONT THE "PERPETRATORS" OF A BREAK AND ENTER, SINCE ALL I SAW WERE MEN WITH FLASHLIGHTS. I WONDER WHAT'S GOING ON. THEY HAVE DOGS, AND ARE SWEEPING THE STREETS WITH CRUISE CARS AND HIGH INTENSITY SEARCH LIGHTS.******* Mom forced me to lie down on the couch and cover my eyes and try and sleep some more. Apparently I dozed off for about fifteen minutes. God, my head hurts! Still, I can't sleep tonight. I'll try some more in a bit. *****THE POLICE CHECKED OUR VAN. APPARENTLY A GUY WAS JUST ARRESTED FOR BREAKING INTO GARAGES. HE TOOK AN AXE AND PUT A HOLE THROUGH THE NEIGHBOUR'S CONVERTIBLE. WOW.******
Most unproductive sleepless night ever. I could have done my homework - my readings, but I'm meeting HC today to do my readings... I looked up a few recipes that she and I can make tonight: Briami, Potato Perogies, Fresh Pasta, Spaghetti and Cheese, or Fried Zucchini with Cherry Tomatoes... with French Bread. All require different levels of time and involvement. I suppose we'll choose depending on HC's mood and appetite. I need only buy minimal groceries which can accommodate any of these dishes. I'll make the bread this morning. We'll listen to music as we prepare and/or during the meal, as well as afterwards when we show off our music collections (read: share our musical interests). I've been watching The Big Bang Theory all night, and I wrote a couple of e-mails to my new professors - I think one of them may have been a thinly veiled insult towards the professor's teaching style and capabilities. I hope she doesn't hold it against me. Oops. I hope I can stay up all day, and be alert enough to focus on my studies and HC tonight. Not fall asleep like I nearly did during that documentary. I'm going to bike to the University, and we can return home by the same means, be it bus or car - I'll pick up my bike tomorrow.
Today's Death class was a joke. Prof. G didn't deviate from the assigned readings one bit, making me wonder why I bothered to go to class - I had read the text and knew all that she was spewing out. Actually, I left class with twenty minutes left because I was so frustrated by her tone and ineptness. She says she's taught this course before, but she has failed to look beyond our assigned readings for further information into the subjects we're studying! She's in her final year of her Ph.D - a degree I doubt she deserves. Perhaps she was nervous, accounting for some of her mental blocks and verbal fumblings, but a sessional professor should be better than that! Is she living in Dr. M's shadow? Does she fear his legacy? I tell you, the bar is not that high, Miss. Then, because I was so tired from not sleeping all night, I came home. My lack of sleep probably added to my frustration at this inept "teacher". But: just give me to the book - I'll learn it all myself.
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mikaelchan- mikaelchan
- (The) Misadventures of Mikael
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