March 17th, 2009

Ice King, Adventure Time

I Forced Myself to Talk to Myself - A Huge Lament

I really debated on whether to ramble on like a depressive lunatic or just do something random. I decided to do the former, because I just need to get these things off my chest. I am really sorry about anyone and everyone who has to read these entries. I honestly don't blame you for not wanting to read them or anything, because they seem to be harkening back to the days of J.D. Salinger as a more modern Holden Caulfield. I truly am sorry for seeming angsty and all around upset. It isn't like me, but life just sometimes suck, and there's nothing you can do about it.

Anyways, I guess I should start with the most pathetic "how I feel" sentence ever. Honestly, I know what I've said at work and in public, but I am very, pretty, deeply depressed right now. I mean last night was bad, and I have no idea why. Well, perhaps I do, but pinning down a specific reason is hard. I know what my sister would say, "Oh, its just close to your birthday, that's why you're so depressed". No, no its not. Maybe I am feminine in the fact that I do get this way certain times of the year. Science has no explanation for this.

All I know is that I feel alone. Alone in the sense that I am just...I don't know...I have no one to talk to? Most people have someone they can confide in, someone who will listen to their ramblings late into the night, or know what to say to make them feel better. I am sad to say that I do not. Sure, I have people I talk to, but no one I can just feel like calling whenever, or at least give me the impression they wouldn't mind it. People are busy, I know, but even so, there is that one person in their lives they can talk to.

So here is what I did to compensate. Please don't laugh.

I am poor, so I can't afford to see a good psychologist or counselor, so I have to be my own counselor. Sometimes it is effective. I just lay there at night, and talk to myself. Yes, I normally don't talk to myself (people assume that I do, but they are mistaken as I am usually sure I am talking to another person who simply walked away). I don't give my psychologist a name or a gender, but I do give them a personality. I would just work out these things in my head, but I get nighttime anxiety like no one's business, but rarely do I refrain from doing so anyhow. Humorously, or pathetically enough, I have to introduce myself to myself everytime. Here is roughly how it started.

Psychologist: So Allen, tell me some stuff about yourself.

Me: Well, I am almost 23 years old, work at Wal-Mart, live with my parents and sister, and go to college for a degree in Computer programming and website development.

Psychologist: Tell me about your family.

Me: My mother stays at home, my dad is nearing retirement at the steel plant, and my sister works at the same store I do, in the photo department. I think we get along well compared to other families, I mean just watch the news.

Psychologist: Heh heh. Very true. What about a best friend, someone outside the family you can confide in. Who's that?

Me: .................I don't know. I guess no one.

Psychologist: Do you feel like you have trouble making friends?

Me: No, not at all. I have a ton of great friends, but....I really don't think any of them as better than the other. I confide random things to random friends, but no one really knows everything about me, so no, I can't say I have a "best friend", per se.

Psychologist: Who do you talk to the most?

Me: I don't know. Really, most just pop up randomly. I just don't know anyone who is there on a regular basis.

Psychologist: Look, I know when times are hard that its hard to see people who truly think you are special, but you need to know that is not the truth.

Me: I know that. I mean I don't need to be stroked like a cat or am really needy or anything, but I just need to feel something every once in a while that helps me realize who I am to people. I don't need to be told that I am loved, but I need the trust and proof that I am once in a while. I don't think that is too much to ask for.

Psychologist: Why are you talking to me, Allen?

Me: I don't feel like myself. Outside of watching dopey shows, I have had no reason to smile lately. Today, I saw three cars lined up, each had an arm sticking out, and attached to their hands was a cigarette. I saw people in backpacks walking down the street. The news reminds us that there is war, poverty, and unrest in the world. Let me tell you something. I used to know that the world was a big place. It is a big place, I mean, but I saw the world as a big family. The family was dysfunctional, and had fights and messes, but overall, I thought we wanted to coexist together. Now I think the world is a dark and bleak place where people come to live and die. Someone could be laying in a gutter, or an old friend could end up being a serial killer. One time at college, I sat next to a guy who ended up being a sniper, and shot at people one night. He seemed normal. I guess, I just lost the feeling of those halcyon days. I do wish they were back, but I know reality the way it is now.

Psychologist: The world can be an intimidating place, but there are people who try to be good, they try to be as peaceful and happy as possible. Groups of people out there try to help our fellow man, by providing shelter, food, and helping create ties. Yes, a lot of people simply don't care, but that doesn't mean that everything is wrong.

Me: But strings are attached to everything. You need to accept God OUR way to receive our support. You must follow government protocol and bureaucracy in order to be helped. There are people who honestly try, but in the end, it'll never be enough. There is an account in the Bible about God flooding the Earth because the world was wicked, and saved only a handful of souls on the ark. God has felt the same before. I don't discredit those who do good, but the bad seems much more prevalent nowdays. I usually don't think this way, but I haven't had a good reason not to think this way.

Psychologist: Talking to people does seem to light my day up. I find that having friends help carry your weight makes things go smoother. Now how about your job? Do you like it?

Me: I used to, but I don't anymore. My job was turned upside down about a month ago. I had a great manager in my department, but he transferred out, and I got a new manager, who I don't have a problem with yet, but every single person, everyone, has had nothing but bad things to say about her. That's something else that depresses me. No one seems to look at the positive. I have tried my hardest, but I get shot down every chance I get. Now I know what they say may be true, but no one wants to give me a chance, a glimmer of hope. People rarely say anything nice about each other, friends or otherwise. It makes me really sad to hear their snide comments. It really does. No one has been supportive, and have pretty much just read my eulogy to my happiness. On top of that, the work has effectively doubled, causing more stress and anxiety. No one helps. They just look.

Psychologist: Well, at least you have a job. Many people are begging for one right now. Have you tried to get a new job?

Me: Yes, but in this economy, its hard not to. I am three classes away from being done with college forever, and whatever job I want will prevent me from finishing that, so I am stuck there as it pays for my tuition.

And it goes on and on from there. About two hours if I'm not mistaken. It seriously makes me feel pathetic doing that. On top of that, my eyes got moist. I won't say I was crying in the sense of *shiver sniff sniff hyperventilate hyperventilate*, but more like some tears not even hitting my skin, but my pillow. Not much either, but not something to just shake off.

Then school came and went today, and I felt a little better after some social interaction. Unfortunately when I got home, my mom gave me some disturbing news. She is going to probably go in for some knee replacement soon. The big one. Then she started to say the words "rest home". No. I can't accept that. Good news is that she doesn't want to at all (she's still well under 65), but said that she will have trouble talking them out of home care, at the very least. We all have to pick up and start doing more work around here. I have no problem with that. This is not to say that I have not come to terms with my parent's timeline, or the future for that matter, but I wasn't expecting to have the "home care/rest home" talk for at least another 5 years at the absolute earliest. I know home care would be what's best, but I've seen those people operate before, and I know my mom is stronger than that. Sure, she will have to rest for weeks, if not months, after the replacements, but I don't think she will need extra care until years from now. I am here for her, and I can do things.

I wish it was enough.

I wish I was enough.

This whole topic is just hard to come to terms with, and it tears me up inside horribly. MY dad is supposed to retire just months from now, but will have to continue to work just to support the surgery, a job that no one his age should be doing. He has to keep it in this economy. They also lifted the restrictions of post retirement, and it looks like the end isn't in sight any time soon. It kills me. Here I am, 23 years old, burdening them, no doubt, as they are slowly deteriorating away. I would take up more hours at work but 1) They seem to be against me having more than 20 hours a week for some satanic reason and 2) I would have to give up everything, college, a better job, just to support them, and they would have my hide for it. My mother says that if they prevent me from reaching my potential, that they would kill me, which would defeat the purpose to begin with, but I know they mean well. I even said that I would take off from anything the day of the surgery, and they refused it. I am still going to do it no matter what they say. My parents love me, and they are stubborn about it. I wouldn't prefer it any other way.

Consider this my "Personal Journal" entry, as I rarely talk about my problems in such depth, but honestly this beats talking to myself, trying to tell myself to be stronger; that I do not need other people to feel better; that I need to be independent. I'm just tired of being silent. I needed to get this off my chest. I needed to tell someone, even if its just a bunch of HTML that only gets clicked on once or twice. I just needed to do this, because I am tired of not being able to talk to someone.

I am tired of talking to myself.

The Allengator