Hello again. I’ve been preoccupied and distracted. Busy. I wish I could tell you that my life was improving. Well, on paper it is… I’m going back to college and I’m doing okay. Alas, on the psychosocial front I am dissolving. It has been a foray into the wilderness of humanity. Dating unsuccessfully, meeting loads of new people and not making any friends. I have been chemically prevented from anything like serious disdain or regret but lately… I’ve been more circumspect. As I think about my experiences I am reminded of “As Good As It Gets” with Jack Nicholson. Wherein his character, who has psychosocial issues comes to the realization that maybe “this is as good as it gets”. The more I think about that, the less hopeful I become.
I feel lonely so I reach out. It starts out fine. Then a joke is told, usually followed by some confusion or misunderstanding and it all goes south rather quickly. What was supposed to be funny becomes a serious discussion and then degenerates into an argument. You can’t say anything nice about yourself without people getting extremely precious about it. Whether it is true and you are simply stating a virtue or it is a joke and you don’t actually mean it at all. It just turns into a tragedy and every bit of hope that you had for having a nice easy happy social life goes completely to shit.
I like people less and less. I like myself less and less. I become introspective about the entire thing and the suicidal ideation that hasn’t been a part of my life for so long starts creeping back in. COmpletely welcomed like an old friend. Why bother? You try to be nice, it starts a fight, you try to be defensive and keep people at arm’s length and it becomes an argument. Dating is a mixed bag of solipsistic and shallow women and meaningless encounters that range from indifference to casual sex. Nothing lasting or progressive. I’m an odd virus in a petri dish. Nothing else can exist in this space without corruption by or with me. I either devour it, or it is so hallow that I simply spread right through it, obliterate it completely.
So, without love… Without support or close ties, friendships or lovers, what exactly is the point? If this is as good as it gets, why carry on? I cannot be cured, I cannot live a healthy balanced and normal productive life, so why live? I’m not feeling sorry for myself. I genuinely want to know. How can I find meaning in this wilderness. What is my purpose? To continually attempt to have a better life that I am utterly incapable of maintaining, only to fail repeatedly and simply be frustrated…?
I don’t want that. Every single street has a one way sign…