Bring it back

Yesterday, I told you about my friend. I turned my back on my friend who wouldn't seek help. But by midnight I'd turned back around, because my friend called an ambulance after suffering the repercussions of a failed suicide attempt by overdose. I was honestly surprised. I thought that it would take hours, even days. I was pleasantly surprised, and so relieved.

I also mentioned my grandpa. After my little brother and I went clothes shopping today, we stopped by my grandpa's house to visit. I knew he'd be happy to see us. I didn't realize that my uncle is staying with him, so I saw him for the first time in a very long while and introduced him to my little brother. If I'd held some sort of grudge against my grandpa, I would've passed on this opportunity.

I'm glad that I haven't left anyone behind. I remember that, when I broke up with you, we stayed very close friends, and that worked well for us. Yes, I kept lying to myself, but maybe I could have done that longer if I hadn't tried to move on from you. If I hadn't stopped trying to see you, hadn't tried to leave you behind, maybe we could have made it more comfortably. Instead, all this happened, and you're further from me than ever.

Maybe people need boundaries, but trying to leave behind love can make it twist and morph into something horrifying and painful. Don't leave love behind. Keep going for love.

I hugged my grandpa

The other day my grandpa was at my house when I drove home with my little brother. I knew he'd be there; my grandma gave me a heads-up before I left. I've already told you that I stopped working with him and why. I'm not ready to work with him again. He's not able to help me with my depression.

But I walked into my bag yard, greeted him, and hugged him. He may not have the empathy that I need, but I still love my grandpa. He isn't constantly trying to hurt me. He wants me to be better, but his way of trying to help is ineffective. I don't think that I should stop caring for him completely because of those things. After all, it doesn't hurt me to give him a hug. It helps him when I do.

I'm not talking with him. I know that I'll inevitably be hurt. But I think that what I did is enough. He can dismiss the idea that I'm angry at him. He doesn't have to worry that I don't want to ever see him. That's all I can do, and that's what I will do. When I see him, I'll greet him, and I'll embrace him.

I wish that you could give me at least that much.

I just did it too

I had a friend for the past few months. I've been trying to help my friend. Self-harms, lashes out at the people around her, is suicidal, self-neglecting, self-loathing. That's okay with me. What isn't okay is that my friend would not get help. My friend just can't see a psychologist. My friend just can't go to the hospital. Of course my friend could, but can't... I'm across the world from my friend, so I can't do a thing either.

Look. I've made a decision. I've been trying to help you for months, but there's nothing I can even do. The only thing that I've changed is that I've built up frustration and despair in myself by being involved in you.
"I'm not going to talk to you until you seek help. I don't care what you seek help for, whether it's your physical problems or your mental problems, I just need you to take a step forward. Feel free to keep messaging me, but I won't message back until you tell me what it was like to finally get help.
"I love you. But I can't carry your burden if you'll never try to make it lighter. So, goodbye for now.

Tonight, I left my friend. That is what I said. After weeks of feeling helpless and slowly having my hope trampled, I realized it. I said that I don't leave a person unless they've hurt me. I'm hurt. My worry and helplessness has been growing and it's been digging into me. It hurts. My friend just recently tried to commit suicide, even though I pleaded not to be abandoned again. My friend has been paining me so badly, and can't do anything to help. I didn't want to leave my friend all alone, after so many people had done so. I didn't want to be a hypocrite for leaving like you left me. I've left.

I think I can say that I'm not a hypocrite, though. I'm not leaving like you did. You left after 3 days, after I had gone to a psychologist like you asked me to. I left after several weeks, after my friend refused to seek help over and over again. I've given a condition for me to speak again and said I'd still listen, while you simply left me scared and directionless and aren't even listening anymore. I don't want my friend to let me go, I just want to see my friend start fighting to improve. Would you truly even care anymore if death dragged me away from my goal?

No, I will never put my friends through what you've put me through. Maybe I can't take feeling responsible, but I'll never my friends away when they need me. Perhaps this can't be counted as leaving; I've only turned my back, standing in place. You're gone, except that I grip you tightly in my heart in order to stay alive, despite the fact that you refuse me all hope. My hope is the only thing I actually have left that means anything to me.

My mother's worry

I leave my university at 11PM at the latest to get home home in around 15 minutes. The first few times I stayed so late, my mom was concerned. After a while, she understood that it was okay. Now she's concerned again, for some reason. I feel like the concern is different this time, though. It's a little more frantic, maybe?

She's also become concerned about me walking about at night. Honestly, I'm doing something good for myself and there she is worrying about... what, exactly? It's clear that I'm nowhere near hurting myself. It's clear that I've been obeying the law. Returning home at 9:30 isn't late, and it never has been until now. Where is this sudden fear of the dark coming from?

I've lied to her before. The last time that I tried to visit you, I lied to her and said I was just getting gas. There used to be days that I told her I was going to school when I was actually going for a walk. During the short time that I stopped eating, I told her that I'd had my meals and nobody had noticed. But now I don't keep those sorts of things from her. Anything that I've planned or that's made me feel better or worse, I tell her. She is my complete confidant.

Well, it's a mother's job to worry about her children. Maybe there are so few things to worry about with me now that she's finding new things to fret over. That's a good thing, I guess. I'm just glad that she isn't very forceful or upset when she complains about me being out so "late". I love my mom. She's so caring.

Too good

I've been told that I'm too much of many good things. Too sweet, too kind, too funny. I remember when I told her that your love for her had rubbed off on me, and explained what I would be okay with you two indulging in, she said I was too good for her. Do you remember that? You were sitting right beside her. I'm always flattered when I'm told these things, and at the same time I find the people who say them to be cute. I'm wondering if it's me seeing cuteness in response to being flattered, or if only cute people happen to say those things.

I also remember that I told her soon afterward that I'm not as good as she thought. "I'm not afraid to take advantage of you," I said. If I'm too much of any good thing on its own, then I feel my negative traits bring those things down at least enough that I'm not so amazing anymore. I don't like being amazing. I don't like thinking that I'm better than everyone. I'm uncomfortable with being looked up to; I'd prefer others to see me eye-to-eye. So every time I take these compliments a quiet voice in my head is reciting what's wrong with me. This isn't a bad thing; it keeps me humble, and it makes me comfortable.

I'm sure that she doesn't see me as too good anymore. Being the self-protecting, reclusive, sensitive person she is, I've surely torn apart any hopes of being her friend through my actions with you. I'm not sure whether you see me as too good, either. I try not to think about that. I just keep going for love, and keep going with the love of the people who support me.

Not in the best state

Today I didn't have lecture in my class, so I drove to the bay and walked. It's been a while since I did that. You know how I stayed up all Monday morning but it wasn't the same because of my depression? Well, ever since I started walking the bay I've never felt burdened by traversing 6 miles over the course of a few hours, but today I did. On the way back, I started to regret walking so far. I wanted to stop somewhere, take another break. I wanted to go home. I blame the fact that my depression has been more mild.

When I first started walking, I was suicidal. I was so close to the edge. Walking that distance gave me something. It held my attention. I can't say that I'm unhappy with not being suicidal anymore. Trust me, I'm glad that I feel safe from myself. But I'm disappointed that I couldn't have the same dedication today as I did then. Where did that dedication go? Towards watching TV shows?

I hate being in this limbo. I'm not enough of myself to be as I was before we became friends. I'm not empty enough to easily disregard my desires. I'm even questioning whether I'll now pull up and out of this depression or, like I thought before, I'll dive back down until I catch the next extraordinary mood. In the meanwhile, I'm parts useless, pained, and self-loathing. I'd rather be closer to nothing again. But I think being like this is better than my depression is for the people around me.

Dull beauty

In a photo, a recreation, or the place before me, I see beauty and think, "That's beautiful." But depression saps the feeling of it. I recognize that it's gorgeous, but it doesn't touch me as it should. I keep some images and take some photographs. I show other people and I feel satisfied that they enjoy it. I keep these pictures for that, but also for myself in the future. One day, I'll be able to look at them and have them caress my heart.

There are three exceptions. I always find beauty in these three things. When I have a look, I feel well, even smile. I can sigh in awe, I can be glad that it's been with me. I try to adjust, try to appreciate everything else the world has to offer. I can't just bury myself in these three things. But, once in a while, it's good to indulge myself with memories and photographs.

The night, the rain, and you. Perhaps those are the three most important loves of my life. That must be why they are always so precious to me.

What to watch

I was talking to one of my instructors today about what kinds of shows I like to watch. Well, I was making vague hand gestures and slowly finding words to put together. 4 hours of sleep, night classes, midterms, yeah. I did find words, but I've been thinking about how exactly to explain what I wanted to. Somehow it's always easier to type down.

What I ended up saying to my instructor was something along the lines of, "I like to watch things that give me concepts and characters that I can put together in ways not necessarily explored canonically." My instructor had a different choice of words that I think better describes my taste. Something that keeps you thinking afterward. When it's finished, you don't just think, "Oh, that was a nice story." You start imagining all the what-ifs and filling in the blanks. Yes, not only more eloquently said than I could do, put together with seemingly no hesitation, but much wordier than I could manage. And here I thought I was doing well on 4 hours.

Marvel's put out a series on Netflix for their Daredevil character. My instructor recommended it to me, and I indulged as soon as I got home and reheated some pizza powdered with cayenne and dotted with jalapeño. Actually, I paused the first episode with a bit under 20 minutes left. It has certainly got a great first episode, and I'm excited to watch more. Well, to finish watching this episode, let's begin there. Of course, something like this suits my tastes just fine.

You've probably been gaming, not watching shows. Either way, I hope you've been engaged with your choice of fiction. I'll continue doing likewise, whenever I can spare some time.

I stayed up as planned

Like I said I would, I stayed awake all night. A good handful of code was written, and some of it was rewritten. My computer logic doesn't particularly suffer when I'm tired, but I made mistakes that I normally would, you see. Many hours of music were listened to between that mix I showed you and the Minecraft OST. That OST disappeared from my computer somehow, so I bothered to get it back. Since I was awake during the night, I was also able to talk to an internet friend of mine throughout her day. Oh Internet, how peculiar you make life on this round Earth.

Unfortunately, around 2AM that good mood that had got me pumped for an all-nighter had faded. Coding became tedious, decent posture became a chore, the music became uninteresting, and staying open wasn't something my eyelids wanted to do. I was starting to not want to talk to my friend, too. I know that wasn't just an effect of tiredness because that's never happened to me before on an all-nighter. My friend was being pleasant and offering interesting chit chat, too, so it's not like I got bored or irritated with her. Despite consideration of rest, I decided to continue push through the morning. I did recover my enjoyment, though not fully. All in all, it was a productive and nice night.

I went to bed as planned at 7:30. My alarm was set for 2:00, but I didn't nearly get that much sleep. I found myself awake at 11:30 instead, after only 4 hours of rest. I haven't been able to sleep since. Depression does that, but I also don't feel tired on limited sleep either, and I think that's also the apathy. Yes, I did my midterm today on only 4 hours of sleep. I believe that I did well though! Got the next half in two days, and I have much more work to complete in the meanwhile.

So even though all the signs say my good mood is over- maybe I should call it a extraordinary mood instead? Because, though I'm pained right now, I think I'm still doing pretty good. I'll attribute that to you, of course. When my mood ran out, it was my desire to be good enough for you that made me keep trying. That effort worked without hurting me. Thank you. That's something that I feel I can only do with you in mind.

Maybe an all-nighter

I've been doing a lot of studying and programming today. I've actually been enjoying it. I'm enjoying it so much that I'm still up when I had planned to be going to bed about an hour ago. You know I have a passion for programming like people have passion for playing videogames, watching show marathons, or reading books. Actually, I have those passions as well, but right now it's the programming that's got me up!

Now, since I've already passed my bedtime, maybe I should pull an all-nighter. I like coding into the sunrise with some electronic music in my ears. I don't have any responsibilities until 2:30 tomorrow, so I'm cleared to sleep in the day. I do need to sleep for my midterm tomorrow evening. Though I could also pump up on Coke; Coca-Cola, that is, haha. If I do stay up then I should put myself in bed around 7:30 tomorrow to get a bit less than 7 hours of sleep.

It's settled, then. With this respite from depression, I'd love to pull an all-nighter, and there's no reason not to. I don't feel tired and I'm having fun! Right now I'm listening to a SheepyMix called Forgotten Dreams, which I came upon recently and am absolutely loving. Maybe I'll put on the Minecraft soundtrack later, for old times' sake. You, however, need to get up at 5 tomorrow for school, so I hope you're fast asleep! Sweet dreams to you.

So today hasn't been any more productive

It's past noon and so far the only things I've done are explore G+ and listened to music. I guess I could give myself credit for not playing videogames or watching shows. Still, I haven't done the studying I said that I would. Hell, I haven't even eaten. At the very least I'm writing this message much earlier than usual, like I should be.

This is seriously who I am? Waking up late to neglect myself and my future in favor of making myself feel good? Selfish, lazy, hedonistic... I almost hate myself. Who even wants to be associated with a person like that? From the perspective of a person who wants to become nothing, being this instead is disgusting. At least when I want nothing at all I can get something done.

I could change it. Being able to see what's wrong now, if I can just keep looking that way, I can change this. What I never had was a sense of urgency. What I need to embrace now is the need to be good enough for you. I've changed myself before, and I'll do it again. No more empty promises; this is an absolute.

And let's start with right now. There's still plenty of time left in the day. It's time to be more than nothing and more than myself.

When do you think of me

I've wondered in what ways you think of me. Worried, more like it. I've found that isn't a good thing to give much consideration to. A better question to ask is when I'm in your thoughts. The results aren't as potentially devastating to me.

If you don't think about me at all, then that can be a good thing. That means I'm not even indirectly screwing with your life. I'm not to blame for anything stress you have because I'm not even at the back of your mind. It would make me happy to know that you're doing well, even if it's because I'm not there.

If you think about me all the time, that can be good too. I'll pull out a Fall Out Boy lyric for this: I don't care what you think, as long as it's about me! It means you still care about me. I still mean something to you. Perhaps I would mean something terrible, but then I can't quite be replaced in your life. You'd have to confront that eventually; you'd have to talk.

Ideally, you think about me just some of the time. I'd be out of your head long enough for you to go about your life. I'd be on your mind enough to make you think. You could keep your life stable, and you could come to really consider where you've left me. There's surely a balance that would help you to progress. That's all out of my hands, though. Hope and prayers are all I can turn to.

Slept out the contest

It seems that I'm having good days. I went to sleep before midnight and woke up around 9:30AM. It's during these times that I'm most myself. I can very genuinely be who I know I really am, though there's still a bit of acting or apathy. But I'm not really that great even when I'm myself.

I'm too prone to indulging myself. It's hard to find motivation when I'm suffering from the depression, but in this mood I'm just motivated to goof off. Today I've been watching lots of anime instead of studying. Normally I don't even need to study but I should be playing it safe anyway. I've also been motivated to get back into gaming, but luckily I haven't been sucked into that again. I've been swiping sweets, too; not just one today like I'd normally allow, but three sweets! I'll never reach my weight goal like this...

Even though I feel well, I'm just not performing as well like this. I wonder if I need to think a bit negatively to get myself into a more neutral mood and concentrate on my goals. That's kind of dangerous though, isn't it? If I take it too far, I'll just feel terrible and I still won't get anything done. No, thinking negatively probably isn't the solution. Instead, since I can take it, I should think about the future! I may have to live day-to-day when I'm suffering, but I can look forward when I'm well.

By the way, I didn't end up entering my lyrics in that contest. I didn't even finish them. I was too tired last night, and I felt I was too pressed for time in the morning. To be honest, I probably could have written meaningful lyrics in half an hour, just like I write meaningful messages in that time span. However, lyrics aren't much if they're written without a tune in mind. It was too early to sing to myself, should I wake people up, and there wouldn't have been enough time to find just the right rhythms and tunes. That's my excuse, at least.

Eh. I will finish that song, just probably not soon. Tomorrow I've got to work toward our future!

Songwriter's contest

Earlier this week I was invited to a Songwriter's Contest. I said that maybe I'd submit an entry. In the shower, I did come up with a main verse, though the contest wasn't on my mind at the time. The song, which is tentatively titled Perfectly Yours, is about the promise of a pure devotion despite the fact that such a devotion cannot be requited. Based on a real story, and I think you can guess whose.

It appears that there will be anywhere from 12 to 22 contestants. I'm not really going for the win, but while I'm forcing myself to do things I might as well participate. I'll finish the song tomorrow morning. It's late and, as I mentioned, I'm quite tired right now. I think the deadline is 10AM, but that isn't particularly clear.

When I've written up the lyrics, I'll make sure to show them to you here. Someday I'll record a vocal performance of it, too. I did record that main verse, to note. I wonder if you'll like the song?

Woah tired

This evening I'm very tired much earlier than usual. Usually I'm hardly wanting to retire at midnight. But tonight it's only 10 and I'm nodding off. I'm hardly coherent enough to put words together right now, honestly.

I didn't just eat. I didn't physically work hard today. One possibility is that I'm having a good day, and my lack of apathy is causing me to feel the weariness of waking up too early. Another possibility is that watching shows is starting to put me to sleep, having given me enough distraction from my own thoughts. Finally, for dinner I ate much more than usual, so maybe the increase in food intake is doing this? That was hours ago, though, so I have my doubts.

I'm going to go with good day. I may have awoken early today, but it has been a pleasant day. Nobody said a mood can't start in the middle of the day, right? I hope I get a lot of sleep tonight and have another good day tomorrow! After I write my second message, that is. And, of course, I hope you sleep as much as you can.

Their smiles

To be honest, it's hard to see others' feelings as important when you're depressed. Apathy is not pleasant. But I do feel disappointed when I'm not acting like myself - the me that wasn't depressed, that is. That's because being myself is part of being successful, and that's what I'm trying to do to be able to talk to you again, remember?

One of the things I liked seeing was other people being happy. I've found myself making a lot of jokes and goofing off lately. I feel great when someone appreciates my lightness. The best part, though, is that I'm largely unaffected when someone just isn't taking it. In the end, it doesn't hurt me at all to act witty nor to act stupid. That's one upside I didn't expect from depression. Well, it's more directly from apathy.

I'm not too concerned about you smiling. There are people in your life that I'm sure make you smile every day. What I pray for is that you don't frown. The times when you got upset with me are gone, after all; I'm one less reason now for you to be angry. So I want to claim sole responsibility for inciting your wrath or your tears. If I had it my way, nobody else would be allowed to, ever.

Please keep smiling, love.

What is darkness

What is darkness? Is it really so bad? It keeps things unknown, concealed, mysterious. People don't need to know everything; they can't. Sometimes keeping things in the dark helps to make life smoother. And why are some matters inherently dark? Why are death, abuse, and violence dark? Dark things are so common, even plain to see. Even when brought to light, how are they still dark?

So what is light? How is it so good? Being able to perceive how things seem to be, is it always better than never having known? A corpse decomposes in the ground while another rots surrounded by blades of grass. Should the corpse in the grass be respected more than the one in the ground, given the sunlight shining brightly on it? Scars that can't be felt would be seen in the light, but under a blanket of darkness they disappear. Memories of joy and beauty can be forgotten; are they still light matters when they've faded into the darkness of oblivion?

I think light is okay. It's easier to live when the world is lit. But I think that darkness augments the beauty of light. When the full moon shines on a starry night, the world looks just wonderful.

Our problems, our worth

Everyone has problems.

Some people have more problems.
Some people have bigger problems.

A person's worth isn't based on problems that they have.
Our worth comes from problems that we solve.

Not all the midterms

It turns out a midterm test I was going to take today is actually going to be next week. Silly me, studying so hard so early. That's what I get for not paying attention to schedules and deadlines, I guess. I'm glad that I got the date early rather than late, though.

Another thing I learned. Each half of the test will be administered on different days, one being a knowledge part and and the other being a practical part. For the practical parts of midterms, we are given an assignment and several hours to actually put together the desired code. My midterms haven't ever been given two days to be done, so this is new and, in my opinion, pleasant. Once I just barely couldn't finish a midterm by the end of class because I was stuck on a bit of the practical part. Do you remember how frustrated I was that I couldn't finish? I remember telling you about it. The instructor decided to discount the practical part, instead just using our work to unofficially gauge our learning in the class. Most of the class simply gave up on that practical, by the way. Only one person managed to finish it.

Well, more studying to be done this week. Wish me luck for next week!

Inspiration

I've gotten a few compliments about Tell Her Before I Die. Beautiful, deep, and relatable are among the qualities ascribed. I appreciate these comments. Now if only they were left on the blog itself, instead of on G+.

There is one word that's been said to me that really gets me, though. Inspirational. How could these messages, or how could I, be inspirational? Whenever I think about inspiration, I think of things that already are and already have concluded. Inspirational stories are ones that turned out well. Inspirational people are the ones who have beaten all the odds and become successful or found peace. Relatable, understandable, even pitiful are what I can easily see my efforts and experiences as. But inspirational? I'm nowhere near a conclusion. All is not well, not yet.

That's me thinking narrowly, though. I can turn my head and see where that word is coming from. Maybe things don't need to have concluded to be motivational. Maybe it's the hope in a struggle that can be inspirational, not just the victory. From that angle, I understand. I say things like that I'll keep going for love, and maybe that is inspirational. In the Prevention box I say, "I'm still here for her, so maybe you can keep going." Sure, I hope that can truly be inspirational. I guess that, if I need a conclusion for something to inspirational, maybe I could look at the short term. Right now, I'm holding my ground against depression. I'm still alive and going on. That's a good thing. If that's the final note for this moment, then I think it is inspirational.

I guess I just prefer the word motivational for the short term, for things that aren't quite finished. I am motivated, by you and by everyone who reads this. Thank you for helping me to keep going.

Midterms

This week is midterm testing week for me. I couldn't concentrate on the last midterms and finals I had to do; I did very poorly on them. This time, though, I've been able to concentrate on studying. I focused on my test today and I feel that I did well! I'm somewhat proud of myself for that.

It just goes to show that I can do these things with the motivation of seeing you again. By keeping my will to be right for you, instead of berating myself with how wrong I am, I'm able to take life on! As you always have, you drive me to give what I've got. Everything is set up for me, I've just got to use this energy you give me to keep things in motion.

I'm still weak where I should be. I'm still careful not to force my way or lie to myself. But to be successful takes strength, and for that I'll use this strength that you give me. You needed me to be strong. This won't be too little, even if it is late. I'll get back to that place where we were so happy.

I failed love's test before. I've learned so much since then, studied my mistakes. When I can take that test again, I will pass. I promise.

Hard to keep a schedule

I just want to drift off. I just want to drift away. The tendency is to be swept behind, but I know that I shouldn't. I need to still be here if I'll get what I want.

That's why I'm posting minutes to midnight. Jeez, I was so close to giving up. Maybe I'd make up for it with 3 posts tomorrow, I've done it before! No, I can put forth effort. And you're worth that effort put forth!

No, I suppose this won't be a very long and deep message. But, basically, despite how difficult it may be for me, you are worth it. I'll do the best I can.

How can we

When I write the messages on Tell Her Before I die, I usually don't mean to say something inspirational or motivational. This is my outlet for my thoughts and feelings about you, from the most direct to the most tangential. However, when I talk to friends who are troubled, some more troubled than I am, I do try hard to help. I try to say things right and I try to help them progress. This morning I was talking to one such friend, and I made a certain statement that I wanted to share with you.

You can only tell the truth about what you feel. Nobody can tell the truth about their limits. They always see limits where there aren't any. Too often I say, "I can't just stop being depressed." That's probably not true. I could probably just snap my fingers and stop being depressed. It would likely wreck me mentally, but I could still do it. The reason I haven't done this is because I feel that I shouldn't simply stop; I need to truly recover. "Can we?" isn't what we should be asking. The real question is, "How can we?" I could just stop being depressed, but instead I want to work through it. I want to learn and improve, so that I can turn around and help.

We shouldn't simply say, "No, can't do that." We need to ask, "How could it be done?"

I should sleep earlier

I always go to sleep after midnight. That's what I've done for many years, with or without you. Now that I can only wake up early, though, maybe I should start sleeping earlier as well. It isn't like I'm feeling any particular effects from getting less sleep, but I'm trying to be normal right? A normal person is supposed to get at least 6 hours of sleep, at most 10 hours, ideally 8 hours. To get that, I need to turn in early.

Before my nightly prayers, my head is full of thought. Afterward, though, some hidden exhaustion bursts up and knocks me out. I never considered sleepiness to be a true feeling. If it is, then it makes sense that I wouldn't feel it most of the time, given how drained of emotions I am. It makes me wonder how truly tired I am with life. Not that knowing the answer would make any difference, really. Just curiosity of the cat, as always.

I wonder if your sleep habits have changed from when we talked. If you are talking to people and getting the love you need, I'm sure it has changed. Even if those habits haven't changed, I hope your dreams are always sweet.

Don't slip away

More and more lately I've been feeling the urge to stop. I've been feeling like stopping these messages. I haven't been talking to as many friends. I haven't been going out. I have stopped pretending that I care in many ways. It's a dangerous urge to be isolated that has been picking at me for a while now. I know that, once I've isolated myself, I'll feel the urge to disappear.

I can't let that happen. I need to keep acting normal so that I can do normal things. By doing normal things, I can progress in life. Progress leads to stability, and stability will lead you to me. I believe I've described this ladder before. I don't think there's anything I can do to stop this urge, but this feeling is one I actually should ignore. I've said that I need to be honest with myself, but what good is honesty when it takes me away from you? There's a time for being true and a time for coverup. I wish the times could be more clear. Life is all about the unknown though, isn't it?

So I will keep going. I won't slip. I pray that you're continuing too, firmly. We must keep going until we meet again.

Lyric desperation

Not every sentimental song fits what I feel. I find myself listening closely, though, trying to relate. I even relisten, knowing that the lyrics aren't quite right. There are a good handful of songs I've collected in my playlist, but for some reason I keep trying to grab for more. Just how many songs do I need to claim to be satisfied? I suppose that's the wrong question to ask.

Words, melodies, actions? Perhaps no amount of them will satisfy my need. Need for expression? Specifically, expression to you. Should I ever even be satisfied with how I've expressed myself? Perhaps I should always hunger to weave or discover things that take these feelings and give them form.

I should perhaps put aside finding my words in different lyrics. I haven't even memorized lyrics of the songs I have found. Maybe I should learn just what I've tried to say so far.

The wrong freedom

Freedom is an odd thing. It can amount to anything. The freedom to do something great and helpful, versus the freedom to destroy and bury. To defend freedom requires that one give up some amount of one's own freedom. By exercising freedom, one often encroaches on that of another person. Life isn't about being free, I think. It's about holding hands, whether termed restraints or bonds.

In the past years, I've found freedom with you. We took each other to experiences we'd never reached before. But I found many of the wrong freedoms. I did lovely stuff with you, but when it came to doing something spectacular I was too intimidated. I thought of constraints that were hardly even there, and I let them keep us back. However, emotional constraints came undone more easily. Maybe it was the rawness of your expression that frayed those constraints and let me act out.

I feel that losing you has changed that completely. Those emotional constraints are quite strongly back in place, maybe regenerated by the tears that refused to be shed. Those spectacular things I wouldn't do before are so clearly in reach, now that I see how insignificant those other constraints were. Well, perhaps I was unshackled back when I took you to the beach that night. I now know which of these freedoms is right and which is wrong.

I concentrated on your negatives

When I broke up with you, I made myself empty. I ignored the feelings that I had for you so that I could be strong. Then I lied, trying to make myself believe that you were nothing good for me. Even though we were still friends, I treated you harshly. You asked me to see a school play with you and I refused, saying, "Why would I watch people I don't know in a play I don't care about with my ex girlfriend?" You asked to be driven home from school and I replied, "I'm not your boyfriend anymore, so I'm not obligated to go out of my way to save you a short walk." I refused to go out of my way to make you happy, and that stung you.

On top of that, I complained about you to other people. I said that you ran off on me with a lesbian. I told people that all you did with me was use my computer and have me do chores. I sighed that you never bothered to be intimate with me. I moaned that you would always yell at me or hit me. Good riddance, I claimed! But that claim was a lie to them and to myself, because they were exaggerated and partial truths. I refused to acknowledge the rest of what we had, of what I felt.

I can only imagine that you're doing the same to me now. You're trying as I did to leave us behind. You've pushed me away by not talking to me at all. You probably tell yourself and your acquaintances that I'm just a nutjob pervert and life is so much better without me. If you are saying that, I forgive you. I know just what it's like to think that it's best to paint our picture in ugly hues.

Kill la kill

Today, I finished watching an anime called Kill la Kill. I wasn't very interested in it when it debuted. It has strange animation and artstyle for an anime. I saw plenty of images on the internet of barely-covered women from the series, and you know I don't care for ecchi. Finally, the name just didn't catch me.

However, Kill la Kill is more than those elements. Men and women alike are shown in various levels of clothing, including none (though the body wasn't detailed). I came to appreciate the way the show looked. The name ended up being insignificant, though I eventually figured that "la" is meant to make the title sound more French; French phrases occasionally make their appearance in the dialogue. The anime has great lore, interesting plot, and, I'll admit, enticing eye candies. A tiny bit of the humor was not my thing, but it mostly got me smiling and laughing!

I think you'd like this one. Action, lore, comedy, hotness, all well-put into 24 episodes. The anime seems at first to be about familial avengement, exaggerated people, and clothing that grants powers. All the simple concepts are revealed to be part of a much thicker and more complex tapestry of plot! I don't really expect you to watch it, since you're so busy and anime isn't a priority, but I still think it would appeal to you!

Last minute messages

I really should write these second messages earlier. With only 10 minutes left in the day, I feel a bit rushed to put my words together. At least the first message today came in the afternoon, though. Those words were meaningful, and I had a lot of time to think about them.

I've been so desperate to distract myself. I know for a fact that ignoring how I feel only makes things worse. But the urge of depression is to slow to a halt, to cut everything off. It's not so easy to defy that urge, to do things that won't help and deny things that will. It's much too early to slip away, but what can I do to return to my place?

Sometimes I ask, what am I even holding on to anymore? Even when I know the answer is you, I sometimes keep questioning it since you aren't here. I have to keep going, even to the last minute.

Togetherness

You were always more of a game enthusiast and I was more of an anime enthusiast. We're both PC gamers, but we've only ever had one gaming PC in the same place. I always let you play because you were so opposed to watching me. It's not like I didn't like watching you, and it's not like you didn't care for me watching. You complained whenever I turned my attention to something else. However, I often felt like doing that wasn't quite spending our time together.

Watching shows is something we do together. It's not interactive, but we are sharing the exact same experience. We make comments and eat the same snacks. We hold each others' hands and lay side by side. From that first time we watched Welcome to the NHK! on my bed, to the last time we watched a dance showcase, I felt like we were truly spending our time together. We did have our times together with games, though. For example, even if my low-spec laptop ran it poorly, we did play Minecraft together. In that game, it was less about the non-existent story we were absorbing and more about working, fighting, and screwing around together. Playing Portal 2, Dragon's Nest, and other games together was lovely too, even when we weren't in the same room.

But nothing beats laying together on my bed, staring into each other's eyes. Admiring your face, feeling your skin on my lips, holding you close to me. That ultimate experience of spending time with you, with nothing but our love occupying us. I will always hold that experience so dearly.

I should spread these messages out more

I'm sorry. I've been writing the two messages each day very close to each other lately. It's nearly midnight when I've posted the second one. I really should at least write the first one in the morning. I have many opportunities to write in the morning, but I usually get up and tackle my hunger and entertainment first. I rather struggle to have priorities since everything is so meaningless to me. That's no excuse though.

As always, it isn't like I have nothing to say. It's been difficult to find words lately, though. I feel like they come to me more easily at night. I've dealt with my day, lived it out, and I don't bother looking forward to tomorrow. It's the perfect time for me to sit down and hunt down words. All is quiet, and I'm more capable of getting in touch with those phrases that have been eluding me during the day.

I'll try to write tomorrow morning. I don't have work, don't even have school, don't have to go out of the house. Of course I still have responsibilities, but they can honestly wait. Many of them have been waiting for quite a while. I really need to put my clean laundry away. Well, do look forward to an early message tomorrow, okay? Take care.

Water

I love the water. I always enjoy a glass of good water to drink. I like swimming and floating around in water. I like taking terribly long showers. I smile in the rain as the raindrops hit my skin and the world. My astrological sign, Scorpio, is a water sign. The element of the Kingdom Hearts character you assigned to me, Demyx, is water.

Lately, I've been droplets. I've hardly been enough to do anything, and that's fine. Looking back on times when I was angry, I've never been fiery; rather, I've been the crashing of waves or of a waterfall. When I was vengeful, I've been the drag of a river's current or a shore's riptide. When I'm upset, my surface ripples on contact with falling precipitation of frustrations and regrets.

So is that why I can't burn up inside? Is that why I feel so dry most of the time, and at others I feel like I'm drowning? Is that why, at my worst, I'm dragged through a vast sadness as if by terrifying and uncontrollable jets? Has my shoreline's waves stayed small, has my river shriveled? I suppose that water cannot die, though, like a flame can.

Closing up

I've been open with people ever since you convinced me to be. So, I'm scared right now. I always have the urge to cut everything off and become nothing. Now I'm fulfilling it. I haven't talked to our friends in days. I quit working with my grandpa. I stopped answering most phone and immediately replying to messages. I'd like to think that it's a pruning, but this really is dangerous. In some ways I feel satisfied, but in others I feel plain wrong.

Should I be trying to make these connections again? Should I be putting effort into something else? How far will I let myself go, how isolated will I become? That last question is the only one I can answer, really; I won't let it go any further than this. I know for a fact that I need to stay connected in order to be safe and sound. I know that I need to be safe and sound to talk to you again. I know that I need to talk to you again. So I will give what I can to not keep closing up. I'm so worried...

What you can

You are a limitless person. Truly, the boundaries that you have are ones you've set on yourself. I tried to keep you free. I gave you the encouragement to try so many things, and you did. We've both done stunning things, for better and worse. But you were always able to fly higher than I could.

Looking back, then looking at my feet, the only reason I could be nearly as unbound as you was because of you. No other love has ever taken me so far. I'd never even asked someone to a dance before you. I never even managed to actually take someone to a date. Each time you said yes when I hesitated, you broke a chain inside me. Maybe some of those chains should have stayed intact, but I nonetheless became much more than I'd been because of you.

Now nearly every link is broken. A single burst of strength could send me careening into anywhere. My soul must stay limp, since the iron drags against me no longer. Those chains were fear containing me, and you shattered so many of them. I'm still scared in some ways. I'm still afraid of death, for example. I'm glad that chain is still there.

So that is how we ended up in this unbelievable situation. You broke my fears and ran where you felt like running. You are amazing. You inspire me to keep going. Because you can, so you make me capable as well.

Absurd

My life is actually pretty absurd. The world isn't as normal as I thought it was. What we've done is so unbelievable. The issues of the people I know are surprising when made raw. I've sunk so low into this, and I've seen who would truly be with me and who would scatter. The words I find in my heart hold other people, let them know that they aren't alone. Phrases of desire and of depression alike inspire people to speak and to continue.

That is nothing like the world I knew before. That world was so shallow, yet I cherished it. This world is so deep, yet I can hardly reach out for it. This is all so weird, but I'm not bothered by that. I've become comfortable in this world of absurdity.

First sight

Your older sister invited me and some other friends to the mall. She had to bring her little sister along, much to her dismay. So, we all met up at the mall.

I didn't think much of it at the time, but I noticed you right away. Somehow, you were more there than the rest of the world. It's not quite right to say that you stood out. The presence of reality seemed to bend around you, augmenting you. You were unique in your being, more in place than anything could ever be.

And how did I act? I was instantly pulled in. I treated you like you'd been my friend for days. Most of what I remember of that time was you. I couldn't help but look at you. I just had to say things to you. I remember walking at your side while we went about the mall. I even messed with you like I do with good friends, snatching your soda and playing keep-away with you. Of course I gave it back in the end. It's so hard to believe how comfortable I was with you. And I hate to admit that, given my antics, it must be true that boys tease girls that they like.

What did we think when we parted that day? I thought that you were a fun girl to have met, but we wouldn't really cross paths again. You've told me that you thought I was just an obnoxious guy that you wouldn't have to deal with again. How wrong we were about how intertwined we were, my dear. Not until recently have I really stopped to consider what happened that day; on my part, was it love at first sight?

I miss you

I think it's obvious. Nonetheless, I want to make it clear. We're young and have so much time. That time is being wasted with this separation, but there will still be enough left. For what? For forging new memories with each other.

We've had experiences where one of us felt wonderful at the other's expense, and even times when we couldn't help but drag each other down. What I remember when I think of us are the moments we spent together in elation, in comfort, in joy, in love. I want to sculpt more of those times with you, because I know that we can do it.

Someday your hand will stop shaking. I'll hold it then. We can start crafting something together again.

Dismantling

There was an old dresser that we'd left in the backyard for months I think. The top of the dresser was weathered so badly that it sagged downward. We couldn't start using that dresser again if we wanted to. It simply sat there, with nobody paying any mind to it. Nobody tried to take it down, move it, even cover it.

Today, I grabbed a screwdriver and got to work. I started removing the screws from the dresser, slipping the components out. I started separating the planks of the dresser. I took my sweet time, putting the screws and parts aside to be dealt with later. There were two parts I had to destroy in order to remove. That weathered top was connected to the rest of the dresser by some bits that had absurd, huge screws. I just ripped that off. There was a random plank through the middle of the dresser, too. I just brought my foot down on the plank, snapping the wood and knocking it to the ground simultaneously.

Controlled destruction can be a good release for negative energy. It's not surprising, then, that I got nothing out of snapping the plank nor ripping the top off. Depression has taken away my ability to be angry, truly. Exerting brute force was no relief for me. However, otherwise dismantling the dresser did do something for me. It wasn't forcing something to its breaking point, but working it with a degree of attention to bring it down. I don't have wrath to let loose, but an emptiness to occupy.

Our blood moon

I wasn't able to wake up to see the blood moon this morning. I wonder if you got to see it. If you did, I wonder who you saw it with. I get the feeling you didn't even know it was happening, or that you otherwise slept it over like I did. Sleeping it over definitely seems like something you'd do.

Of course, the first thing I thought of when I heard about the blood moon was the first time we each ever saw one. We had slept at your house that night, with the alarm set for early in the morning. We put on our glasses and walked out your front door into the chilly night to stare up at the moon. The moon was very close, and a shadow crept across its surface from an angle clearly distinct from your average moon phase. We stared up at the sky and watched as the shadow very slowly but surely progressed across the surface of the moon.

While it was all very fantastic, it was clear that we wouldn't see the moon become completely red for a very long time. So, we absconded from the biting outdoors and into the house. I don't think we went back to sleep, which was probably the mistake that I made this morning. I remember that we marathon-watched Epic Rap Battles of History on YouTube to pass time. You didn't have your own computer yet, so we watched on the computer in your mother's room, sitting on the foot of her bed. I believe we had a blanket draped over our shoulders and I held you as we laughed and giggled at the videos.

After we'd spent a good deal of time indoors, we ventured outside again. Thinking back, we should have brought the blanket. We were so sleepy though. The moon had very much changed its position in the sky, so we couldn't see it from your front door anymore. We walked out to the street and hunted for the ideal location to see the moon, now much nearer to the horizon. We walked up and across your street, finding our spot on a neighbor's lawn. The cold, still air pricked our skin and seeped into the soles of our Converse shoes. None of this detracted from the amazingness of seeing the moon so big and red. As the sun rose behind us, the surface of the moon was dark again but the craters were outlined in red. It was really amazing to see, for both of us, for the first time.

What was best, though, was doing all this with you. The moon was stunning, but I kept looking to you. I loved your awe as you stared up at the moon. Your expression was more precious than the beauty of the celestial body. Even when my eyes were directed to the moon, the experience was made better by the fact that my hand rested on you or in your hand. We may have been enjoying the night for this spectacular lunar eclipse, but I feel that I truly cherished it because I enjoyed it with you.

I didn't write, of course

Yeah, I didn't get to post yesterday. I'm still here, though, like I said. I've always been horrible at making spare time before a trip, to be honest. It isn't like I didn't wake up early; I always do. But it's always the small stuff, like taking a shower for a bit too long or deliberating for too much time on what to wear. All the time I waste always stacks up and messes with my plans, but at least we didn't leave late this time. Usually we leave an hour or so late. You know my family's reputation for that, actually.

The trip was nice. I messaged some friends on the way there. I watched a weird movie with my favorite cousin. She, my little brother, and I walked one of her (big) dogs to a park and back. Later, she and I drove the other two dogs, only three months old but still big, to the park. They're not used to walking on leashes, so it was difficult to move them around. They also didn't quite understand getting in and out of the car, but they weren't bad with actually being in the car. They were also more comfortable in the car on the way back. All in all, we made a lot of progress with those two, but I wish we had harnesses instead of collars. I felt bad tugging them along, even though the collars pressed against the back of the neck and not the front. On the way back, my brother and I watched a movie. We planned to get a little sleep before waking up and seeing the lunar eclipse, but we missed it. I did wake up too early and saw the moon being partially eclipsed, however.

It was a good day. I'm always wishing you were here, but it was nonetheless a good day.

Traveling tomorrow

Tomorrow's Good Friday. I wanted to go to church, but instead I'm going with my family to visit my cousins. That's fine. I like those cousins. But I really wanted to start a churchgoing habit... oh well.

I'm almost surprised that we're going anywhere for Spring Break. I don't actually have a break from school, but I don't have classes on Friday, so I'm clear for the trip. It isn't a long ride, and it isn't out of the state. Good thing I'm feeling particularly well, so I'll probably be able to put on a big smile for my cousins!

I'm going to try to type up tomorrow's messages before I leave. I'll schedule the second one to be published sometime after noon. If that doesn't end up happening, please don't be alarmed. I'll still be alive, I promise this to you. =]

Really talking

I've been repeating over and over lately that communication is the solution to our problems. But, even more than that, to what extent are you communicating? You may be hanging out with enough people, but are you really putting everything out there with a few people? You need to be able to discuss your thoughts from the surface to the core. You need people to sift through absolutely everything with you.

I tell myself that you're doing just that with at least two people. There's your psychologist and there's her. You talk to her every moment she has free, and you've always told her more than you tell to me. I don't know how often you talk to your psychologist, but that person is hopefully experienced and trained to help you explore your issues. It's on you to tell that person everything there is to tell, and I tell myself that you're saying it all.

Keep talking. Really talking. We'll be okay.

The previous message was a lie of course

Happy April Fools' Day. Yes, the last message was a lie. I had to do something in the spirit of April Fools', right? And, of course, that lie was meant for the other readers, not for you. You would know better, obviously. There were a few hints in that message that showed that it was facetious.

1. Post title:

   The title of You and I are TALKING AGAIN!!! breaks the title pattern that I mention in the message Blogging. The only capitalized letter in the title of a normal post is the very first letter. Those titles don't have ending punctuation marks, much less three of them.

2. Too good to be true:

   Sure, the content started out believable. It started to get a little questionable when I said that you're canceling the restraining order and taking me back. By the end, we've got a life set up for us in New York complete with fuck buddies? As if!

3. Hover your cursor over the paragraph:

   The tooltip that appears says, "April fools..." That easter egg just flat-out admits it.

On one hand, I'd like to apologize to the readers who didn't notice these hints and actually believed the story. You know that I wish it were true, too. On the other, though, I'd like to thank them for taking me so seriously. Depression isn't a joke, regardless of the attempts I occasionally make to lighten these messages up. If you didn't look at that previous message and think, "You've got to be kidding," then I know that you don't look at my other messages and think that, either. I really appreciate that you understand how genuine I've been.

Trust me, the only time you should be skeptical of a message's authenticity is next April Fools' Day. Thank you so much for reading. Surely we'll make it another year, won't we!

You and I are TALKING AGAIN!!!

Oh my God, it all payed off! All those months of suffering have come to an end, finally. I don't know what made you pick up the phone and start talking to me again, but I'm so glad you did! Your smile on the screen is like the sunrise on my world, and the notes of your voice are like birds singing awake~ You're going to cancel the restraining order, and you'd even like to take me again!! Yes, of course I'll live with you in the new building in New York that your grandparents gave you! I actually got a job offer from a New York-based company a while ago, and it looks like I'm the best candidate!! I could easily ask what openings they have in New York. The pay for all the positions I qualify for are really high-paying with not many hours, so I could pretty much buy you anything and spend all the time there is with you in the Big Apple. You have some boys and girls who want to play over there? Damn fine by me, babe. This is all so exciting!!!

Plenty of problems

Many people look around themselves and think, "Everything is okay, or at least normal." If we always thought that something is wrong, we'd be very stressed. I'm talking beyond pessimism, more along the lines of paranoia. I recognize that, most of my recent time, everything is okay and normal. It's too bad that I don't care for that more.

How good my life is won't be the subject of this message, though. I want to talk about how, truly, everything is not okay. I know many people with many problems. They may seem like normal people who are doing okay, but how they feel inside is not at all ideal. Some of them are managing their problems. Some of them are covering up and denying their problems. They're not well, but they are or they act okay enough to get through the day. I don't particularly expect these people to have been working with such difficulties, but then again it doesn't surprise me. Looks can be deceiving; a look at how I was before this year wouldn't suggest to most people that I would be in the state that I am in now. And if, as I believe, nobody can every fully know another person, then of course it's easy to miss what is bothering another person. Consider how long it took me to identify your deal with depression.

I recently opened up to another person face-to-face about my situation. It turns out that this person was dealing with depression and heartbreak as well, and had much to relate to me. Now this conversation is open between us, where I expected only to be briefing the other person on my depression. It's mind-boggling, what stays hidden. We can only hope to discover things about people that we can understand.

The bottom line is, problems are the norm. Problems are not an excuse to turn away, because turning away from every problem means turning away from the world entirely. That shouldn't be acceptable. It's okay to see the world in a rosey tint, but it isn't okay to ignore the dark spots. There's a good lot of them.

I just walked off

I mentioned before that I had a horrible realization about my grandpa. That unveiling kept on today. Yesterday I asked if I could take Good Friday off to go to church, and my grandpa got very skeptical of my intentions. I told him that I wanted to go to church to help myself spiritually. He thought I just wanted to skip out on work. I've told him many times that I don't want to go to work with him, but I do it to keep myself doing something. I legitimately think spending Good Friday in church could do me good, but he thought I was just giving up on work for that day.

He's an okay person, really. He's really anxious, though. He's always full of lots of emotions, aggravated by his situation (which is much worse than mine, from a neutral perspective). The horrible part is that he projects his feelings on other people and usually refuses to acknowledge that he's feeling angry or acting irrationally. He says that everyone else is angry, when he's the one raging. I've said many times that I cannot be angry, but he doesn't consider what I say. Even when I'm letting my melancholy twist my lips into a frown and my brows crease my forehead up, he can't see anything but his own fury on my face.

So he yelled at me today, like usual. He ignored what I said, like usual. He said that I should just make myself feel better, like usual. What he added, though, was that he needed an actual laborer. So then what the hell was I doing there? I walked away. I took the keys to his house and walked far away. I took a cab back to his house, took my car keys, left his keys at his house, and drove in my car back home. All that for the price of wasted time, $24.60, gas, and potentially my pay for the job. None of that matters to me, so all in all it was worth it.

I kept going to work so that I could be moving and become suitable for you. But being at work with my grandpa made me feel too many times like I'm so worthless and should die. That's not where I want to head. I don't care how much more difficult it will be for him, how much money he would have given me, what my family will think. I'm not willing to trade in what little stability I have, not willing to stray away from being good enough for you.

Caught singing

I can drive well. I can sing well. I can sing while driving well. Today I was driving with the windows down and Cecilia and the Satellite blasting from the radio. I came to a stoplight while singing the chorus in a tenor range, and I randomly looked to the left. In the adjacent car sat an older lady, and the her window was slightly lowered. She was smiling at me, having heard me. I grinned at her and looked away, not singing any further. Kind of embarrassing, but it was the kind of embarrassment that you immediately take lightly. So I kept smiling a little.

The lady lowered her window. She said to me that I sounded good. I looked to her with another smile and thanked her. Then I looked forward, continuing to smile. This time I wasn't embarrassed, and my smile felt more genuine and full to me. It made me pretty happy that this stranger had randomly encouraged me like that.

Somebody ended up hearing me, so I guess even singing to myself is communication. The exchange of glances and grins was funny, and receiving her compliment was pleasant. Communication is just a wonderful thing, even in the smallest bits, especially as it builds up like that.

Easily frustrated

I came to a point where I easily accepted that nobody could fully understand me. I accepted that people can say the wrong things. I shrugged off that some people refuse to listen.

Now, I'm hypersensitive about it. When I try to explain something and they just don't get it, I panic because I feel like I can never say what I mean. When they respond with all the wrong things, it's hard not to feel like they're attacking me. When they don't listen, I try to repeat what I said a few times. Then I turn around, sit down, and simply feel upset... if not physically, then at least in my mind.

This isn't just how I am about talking about my depression. My little brother suggested yesterday that, since I was hungry right before we left to the bay, I grab a donut. I yelled at him (partly because I was in another room), why would I eat something so unhealthy when I'm at the lowest weight that I've been in years!? I ended up eating a cream-filled sweetbread. I got frustrated too easily over a stupid little suggestion. I think that one example is enough.

Sometimes, I'm still apathetic. My grandpa gets frustrated that I'm texting my suicidal friend when I don't have a moment of respite on the job. I don't give a shit. I tried to explain my situation to him, and he still can't get off the fact that I'm texting. He even refused to answer whether or not he cared about my friend. Knowing that he cares more about a minute of work than for the life of my friend did make me extremely sad. It made me cry a little behind his back... I mentioned that previously. I'm not sure that was frustration as much as a horrible realization that brought those tears.

When they don't listen, I ramble on until I lose hope. So, it's a good sign when a message goes up here.

Long paths

We have long paths ahead of us. Yours is likely to be pretty pleasant and easy. Mine has been very uneven, much too thin at many points, with barren landscape surrounding me. I don't see that changing. But I know that the paths will cross, and I'll keep hiking along for that. Maybe my path will get better by that time, too. I can't rule that out.

On this path, I have to keep looking at the ground. Looking at the horizon is too intimidating. Looking around is pointless to me. I can't help but listen to anything that chatters in this devoid place. Those chatters can be support, distraction, something to get me by. But it can also be horribly debilitating. I can't help it. The only thing I can do is to not give up. I need to stay on this path, not lose myself. It doesn't even matter what the path is going to be become, or how long I will walk it alone, or even what it will be like when our paths join again.

I won't stare into the distance trying to figure that out. I'll watch the steps immediately ahead of me, just making sure to keep my balance as I travel.

With close support

Today I went walking at the bay again. This time, it was with my little brother and my mom. I always like to just listen to the ambience, but they listened to music the whole time. Still, I was able to chat with them a bit. The conversation was enjoyable, even though my brother's definitely lost some hearing for blasting music from his headphones. They didn't want to walk as long as I usually do, but we still walked quite a while and saw pretty things. My mom has now realized why I prefer walking in the evening/night to walking during the day: it's got a completely different aesthetic, and it's nice to avoid the sun beating down on you. My brother made me realize how horrible you get at jogging if you don't keep it up when your P.E. classes are done; we went for an extra little jog after the walk, and I could only actually jog for about half of it. There's this bridge we walked across with rails are also lamps, and it's pretty neat. Even though some of the lamps were out or flickering, and the homes nearby are unimpressive.

When we got home, my brother and I decided to watch 3 episodes of the first season of Pokémon. They only have the dub on Netflix, like they only have the sub of Digimon, but that's fine because nostalgia of course. He bets that I won't memorize the Pokérap by the end of the Indigo League. He's probably right, and I'm already discouraged actually, heh. It seems pointless when there's much more than 150 Pokémon now. Maybe I'll still give it a shot, though.

Meanwhile, you're apparently on Spring Break out-of-state. It's good to know that you're doing something outside the norm, too. I hope you're spending your break with people that support you. Communication is key, I've said many times now. Maybe your big sister is with you, for example? In that case, I hope that she's being chill right now. I'm sure you aren't mentioning Minecraft to her, because I don't believe you've played it in quite a while, so it's easy to avoid strife with her on that front. I hope you have a lot to talk about, and you're enjoying every word of your conversations. I also hope that you're very comfortable wherever you are.

What could you be thinking

One of the things that really tortures me is wondering what you think of me. Luckily, it doesn't come up much, but it really drives me into the ground when I think about it. I have no idea what you think of me, because you refuse to tell me. It's an unknown that rips savagely at me.

What I like to think is that you're still my friend. You're not there because you want to get better without me, and you think I'll get better without you. You aren't doing this to hurt me. You don't want to be stepping on my fingers as I hang from the ledge of persistence. You don't want me to be alternately void of feeling and flooded with sadness. You think this is the best for us, and so you've done it.

But what if that's all wrong? What if you really are trying to hurt me? The last time you saw me, you saw my continuing depression. What if you delighted in that? If this is your revenge for anything bad I've done to you, I can tell you that this pain must at least have equaled by now anything that I've caused. Maybe I deserve this punishment. But I don't want you to be enjoying my suffering. I don't want to think of you that way.

This last thought I think is the worst. What if I'm nothing to you but a crazy ex? What if you're not doing this to help yourself nor to punish me, you're doing this because you legitimately don't care about me? That's the most painful thing. The last time we made eye contact, you were so scared. I could only somberly appreciate the sight of you, while you did everything you could not to even look at me. I'll admit that I'm crazy, and of course I'm your ex. But I'm so much more than that. I've been so much more than that to you. To think that these events have caused me to be nothing but the past to you... it makes me want to more literally become nothing but the past...

The only way that I can see truly see value in myself is in your eyes, your embrace, and your words. I have none of that. So, I can only fantasize of seeing how much I really mean when we meet again. I only keep going for you and that day.

Got a hole in my soul

what doesn't kill you
makes you wish you were dead.

got a hole in my soul
growing deeper and deeper...

what doesn't destroy you
leaves you broken instead.

The words are lyrics excerpted from the song Drown as written by Oliver Sykes and Jordan Fish and as performed by the band Bring Me The Horizon.
The image on the left is limp hand by octopus-interphone.
The image on the right is widely distributed and seems to be in the public domain.
I only take credit for arranging these elements in the manner above.

Calf cramps and sleep sacrifice

As I've complained to you before, on cold nights I occasionally wake up to a cramp in my calf. It's very unpleasant. I was hit with that pain this morning and the previous, luckily not too intensely. The soreness afterward wasn't incapacitating, luckily, and I was able to work just fine. It's still annoying to feel sore, of course. And I could definitely go without the pain of getting the cramp in the first place.

I don't recall ever getting a cramp while sleeping with you. I do remember that I've gotten quite close. And I also remember that you woke up with a cramp once, and I did my best to massage and relieve you. My efforts paid off, and you weren't even sore later that morning. And that reminds me of the night that I stayed up for several hours changing wet, freezing cold towels to soothe the extremely sunburnt skin on your arms. Boy, that was a doozy. I'm also reminded of several nights when I was restless, and you decided to keep awake to give me your conscious company. We've sacrificed a good amount of sleep for each other.

Physically, I'm doing fine. I hope the same goes for you. And I hope your nights have been just pleasant.

We'll meet again

I saw that you posted that picture. I don't think you could be talking about anyone else but me. I wanted to say that I'm happy to see that. Just like when you paid attention to that turtle post or suggested my passed cat's name to a YouTuber, I feel so glad to be in your thoughts. It really helps. On top of that is the message itself: you'd like to see me again in the future. If I feel the same way, doesn't that mean we can take out the word "maybe"? We'll definitely see each other in the future, when you're ready.

This really reinforces my will to continue. It gives me enough hope to bear my suffering. Knowing that, somehow, you're still there for me... I can keep going.

Frayed

My veins
haven't been cut,
but my bonds to life
have frayed.

Incompatible perspective

I've been spending a lot of my time with my grandpa, since I've been working with him for the past two weeks. I haven't held a facade for him; that would be entirely too difficult. So, he's seen how apathetic and melancholy I am. He doesn't handle it very well. He thinks that my apathy is anger. He thinks that saying ridiculous things will cheer me up. He thinks that telling me about how he's gotten through problems in his life will convince me to just move on.

There's one huge difference between his experience and mine. He suffers from anxiety, and I suffer from depression. He is filled with various different emotions that he struggles to recognize and control. I'm mostly empty, with sadness being the most prevalent emotion I have. Everything is too important to him, but everything is hardly important to me. He needs to calm down, but I need to step up. He just can't understand what I'm feeling, even if he's had a similar issue to deal with. The advice he gives simply isn't right for me.

I cried behind his back today. Later, I cried in front of him, too. But, in the end, the crying was pointless. It didn't change anything. I didn't even feel better afterward. I felt too uncomfortable for crying to help in any way. I honestly never even considered that discomfort could deny the benefits of crying. I guess I know now, though.

I want to keep talking openly with people I am, or was, close with. But I feel sometimes that there isn't a point. So many of those people just don't get me, even if they could. They want to talk, but they don't say the right things. I feel the urge to isolate myself more and more, even though I know that's the wrong thing to do.

Still, even if I stop talking to those people, I will keep talking where I feel comfortable. I'll continue updating Tell Her Before I Die, posting #keepgoingforlove on Google+, talking to my therapist, and so on. I won't give in to my desire to disappear.

Talking about you

It's very easy to talk about you. I feel happy and relieved when I recount who you are and what we've done together. I'm sure that I could talk about you for days on end, pausing only to sleep. Sometimes I have trouble putting my thoughts into the right words and gestures, but I smile as I decide on how to express myself.

There are many reasons why I don't talk about you as much as I'd like, though. First, I have responsibilities that I'm expected to focus on. Lovely thoughts of you can overtake my mind, and I pretty much drop what I'm doing to enjoy them. Unfortunately for me, nobody wants to really talk about you with me. Even the people who don't want to see us apart can't hear me glorify you for very long, much less contribute adoration. When they manage to listen, I feel guilty that I'm spending time with them only talking about you, so I let the conversation move to somewhere else. Tell Her Before I Die, of course, is all about you, but sometimes it's difficult to bring myself to type a message.

This isn't because I have nothing to say. I have so, so, so much to say to you. But, even if you're not reading yet, I'm constantly worrying about how you will react to my words. My deepest feelings tear you apart, so I feel the need to not simply vent them out. When I have to stop and think about what you can take, I have trouble picking my words too. Often, I don't even know where I'll go with my message, just making myself type down what comes to mind after a bit of judgement. The backspace button has been well-used during the composition of these messages, you know.

I can't wait for the day when you'll be again able to listen to everything I have to say to you. Truly able, as my best friend.

Others care more

Today while I was working with my grandpa, a woman parked on the street. Her car was mostly in a 2-hour parking zone, but the back bumper was about a half-foot into a disabled parking zone. She was considering leaving the car parked where it was, risking a $600 ticket. My grandpa was pretty concerned about it, stopping all his work to talk (as he often does). He really didn't want her to be hit with that fine. The woman decided to just check in to the building that she needed to, then return shortly to find a parking spot she could fit in. Even as she walked off, my grandpa briefly continued voicing his concern. I told him that he shouldn't dwell on it because the woman had already made her decision. The woman was quick enough to avoid being written up.

Many people have been supporting me in my depression. They can make me smile, laugh, even love. But, as I've said before, being depressed means that I can't feel positive emotions as intensely or for as long. It's better to have those diminished positive feelings than to just be empty and sad, so I appreciate when people help me to feel well. However, they just can't cure my depression by making me happy, and I don't want them to think that they can. To try to fill the space you've left in me is something I don't see as possible or at least feasible. I don't love anyone as much as I love you. Nobody should be trying to make me move on from my depression, because they'll be wasting their time. They're not the cause, and they can't be the solution.

Finally, you don't care to let me know how you're doing at all. I sometimes get so anxious with not knowing how you recovering. I get so concerned with whether the people around you are helping you. I even worry about whether you're eating well or keeping up with your chores, things you don't care about yourself. Just like the other situations, though, the fact is that the decisions have been made and there isn't anything to do. I have to remind myself that it's a waste of time to obsess over your wellbeing, because there isn't a thing I can do to know how you are. You'll catch me up when you decide to.

They sing the words

A few weeks ago, I mentioned a YouTube playlist. I've been continuing to add songs as I realize that I relate so closely to them. One of the songs that I've recently added is Drown by Bring Me The Horizon. The first song I added, of course, was Lovefool by The Cardigans. It's interesting how all these lyrics set to such different tunes from so many time periods all fit to describe my situation.

Before, I'd left the songs in the order that I'd added them. This hasn't seemed quite right lately. I decided to reorganize it. It wasn't so straightforward; it was something like sifting through my feelings. It ended up being what I feel now to what I felt at first, in general. But there's another pattern to it. Can you see that?

I would really like for you to listen to these songs. I know you won't like all of them, and that's okay. I know you'll like some of them, though. If you're actually reading these messages, you can listen to some songs and read some lyrics, right? The playlist is embedded below, starting from the beginning. I... just want you to hear me however I can express myself.

I wouldn't do for you

My therapist gave me a theoretical today: you suddenly decide to take me back, but on one condition. What condition would be a deal-breaker? What would make me say no?

At first I replied that I'd turn you down if you said I couldn't talk about or admire other people with you. Surely if you had become the jealous type and wanted to thought-police me, I wouldn't want you back. Then I reconsidered... no, I would give that up for you. Honestly, I could do without everyone else if I just had you. Besides, you'd probably change your mind later.

Next, I considered that I would turn you down if you said I had to drop out of school for you. I quickly took that back; I know enough about programming to be able to make a living off it. I finally settled on this condition: if you were to tell me that I had to be your housewife, being unable to spend time on anything besides chores and you; if you were to ban me from pursuing a career or even an individual hobby, so I'd be unable to program for example. No, that's where I'd draw the line. If you wanted me back, I would want to help make a nice future for us, fulfilling my aspirations as well as yours.

I know that you wouldn't ask me to drop out of school and stop pursuing my dreams. I'm not afraid of that. This is just theoretical, if you were to change so much that you would ask me for that. The therapist tasked me with coming up with at least one more deal-breaker. I did come up with another after the session, following the issue of fulfilling aspirations. I wouldn't take you back if you said that I could never have a biological child. I may be pretty screwed up, but I think my genes are worth passing down. It comes down to nurture too, after all.

This post may have made you uncomfortable... this is just a theoretical about you taking me back. At the least, I simply want you to accept me again as your friend. Like you said, we're the weirdest best friends ever. I just want to be with you somehow, more than just keeping you in my heart.

It wasn't recovery

A few messages back I mentioned that I was able to wake up later. That didn't last. I'm back to being unable to sleep past 7. Back to feeling more empty than anything.

The alleviation was nice while it lasted. Sleep is always nice, first off. But, seriously, I almost felt normal. It was as if I was just waiting to be able to see my girlfriend again, not as if I'd been abandoned by the deepest love of my life. I was very much able to enjoy what I was doing and the people around me. My regrets about you were dismissed simply with finger pistols or sudden song. I didn't feel like I should cry.

All that being said, take pretty much the opposite and you've got my normal state of depression. That is the apathy and sadness that I've returned to. And less sleep, making for less dream time and more crushing reality. At least now I know that there can be periods of respite from my depression. I can't say that I'm looking forward to my next break, because after the matter it doesn't mean much to me. However, I'll certainly welcome it when it comes around again.

Do anything

There is something absolutely crazy that I've learned. We really can do anything.

Before us, I always kept myself in a cage of disbelief. Through our relationship, though, I discovered that there are so many things that I actually can do. But I wasn't quite where I am yet. I was merely falling into place. I felt like things were simply the way they were and would slowly change throughout the years. I felt like there were things I'd always done that I could continue to do, and there were other things that I would just have to wait for.

Now I realize that couldn't be farther from the truth. Falling into place? We make these places for us to fall into. The niches that we stayed safe in before have been destroyed, and we've been dragged into places that other people have constructed for us. But guess what I can do? I can take this place I've been dragged and make it my home. It's not comfy, and I'd rather be somewhere else, but it will do while I'm trapped here.

We can do anything. There are things that shouldn't be done, there things that perhaps should be done, and all these things are right in our reach. We've done a lot, you know? Let's do something to truly fix this, because we can put out our hands and grab it.

Eating habits

I've been distracting myself with my weight lately. I've been slimming down over the last weeks, more slowly recently. I quickly dropped 10 pounds at first. Today I was the lightest that I've been in years, at only 192 pounds. I'm aiming for another 10 pounds off. I've been from 193 to 197 pounds prior to today.

At first, my tactic was very simple: don't eat, drink water. I still eat, but I eat very lightly, downing water most of the time that I feel hungry. Then I started going for healthier foods, avoiding animal products, processed foods, and especially sweets. Finally, especially as I find myself unable to abstain enough from the food I mentioned, I started adding spices to everything. That's when I realized that I have a huge tolerance plus a craving for spices.

My mom and grandma are extremely hesitant to bring on the spiciness when preparing food that I ask for. My grandma has been liberal enough with cayenne pepper on some occasions, but my mom never even gets close. Jalapeños just don't phase me, though they are delicious. The aforementioned cayenne is nice and spicy, but I honestly don't care much for the taste.

With all that pie and cake laying around in the house that I couldn't keep my hands off of, I have had to enforce my spice quota more strictly. Today my mom made a chile relleno for me; a green bell pepper was stuffed with beans, cheese, and jalapeños (yes, we stuffed pepper into the pepper), then we tried to cook egg onto it (the shape of the bell pepper defeated us on this front). Even though it didn't end up spicy enough, it was certainly delicious, and I think it'll make up for my sweets intake. I also hope the pure cinnamon I put onto the cake helps too. Well, I suppose the scale will tell tomorrow.

No, I'm not really doing this for myself. There are a few reasons for my diet. For one, as I mentioned, having this diet is distracting from my depression. Secondly, I know you always loved me and my body, but I want to be thinner to be sexier, or at least scrawnier to be less intimidating. Thirdly, I'm motivated not to eat much because I've lost much of my sense of entitlement; I'm happy to eat much less than I'd otherwise gobble up because that means I'll less of a waste of resources. On the flip side of that, my water intake is way up when we're supposed to be in a drought... whatever.

I hope I'm in a more desirable shape when you see me again!

Cake spoon

My little brother brought up a very good point today: so many cakes are very soft, so why use a fork to eat them? We can just cut through and hold them with spoons. And so he's opting for spoons instead of forks to eat up his cake. That's working perfectly fine for him; it doesn't really make any sort of difference, it just gives those underused spoons some love.

That guy's got good stuff coming for him. He doesn't just go along with what everyone else says. He questions and considers all those things. If something's pointless, he can buck it just as easily as he can carelessly embrace it. He doesn't let the world just push him along without knowing where they're pushing from. He doesn't blindly trust that someone knows more than him even when he doesn't know a thing.

I wonder what eating habits my little brother will question next?

Gentle push

There's got to be a way that I can somehow nudge you in the right direction. There's got to be a way that I can help you. But, most importantly! There's got to be some way to stay weak while doing that.

I still honestly don't care what bad opinions other people have of me. If I were to be strong, I would see you again. But for you to get better and for me to stay out of trouble, I need to stay weak. However, even the weak have ability. I'm able, at least now, to fulfill the responsibilities given to me in my life, yet I remain weak. Surely there's something I can delicately do to positively affect our situation.

So, what I can do mustn't involve you and me. It has to involve other things, other people. That'll do, because we have so many things and people in common. I think I can actually do this. I'll keep my thoughts on that a surprise. Maybe I'll mention it here as it happens. The vagueness, the suspense!

Even though I'm holding back my thoughts, don't be scared. What matter are my intentions. You said to me, "I don't want to hurt you, but I don't want to get hurt, either." Those are the words I'll say myself as I stay weak but try to give this gentle push.

Woke up later

Today I actually managed to wake up later than usual. Normally, I can't wake up later than 7; today I woke up at 8:30. I wonder if this is some sort of sign of recovery. Maybe the early waking time wasn't a symptom of depression at all but a coincidence. I think today was nicer than most days, really. What made it any better?

Though maybe I shouldn't be asking these questions until it becomes a pattern. We'll see whether I can wake up later tomorrow as well. And, if I do, we'll see whether that day seems nicer to me. I didn't really see myself doing anything different today, so I'm pretty sure this was a natural, honest mood shift. I hope my decent mood persists into tomorrow, because I'm happy to genuinely not suffer as much from depression.

I'm not saying that I didn't suffer at all. A handful of bad thoughts floated around in my head today. But... considering it, perhaps there was one thing I did differently. I thought about what you love much more than usual. I was smiling about you more than I was frowning about your abandonment. Thinking about it, I talk about you as if you'll come to see me by the end of the week. Maybe I should fantasize that in order to be happy? It's not too big of a lie to tell myself; for all I know, you could do just that.

I'm happy thinking about us

I've seen a few depictions of the average guy who hasn't gotten over his ex-girlfriend. He's so sad because everything he does reminds him of her. He remembers what her favorite drink is, and he can't bring himself to drink it. He can't visit a park that she loved to go to. Friends they held in common become unbearable to him. Every reminder of that girl tortures him.

That's not me. Every reminder of you makes me happy. From red velvet cake to Final Fantasy, I love them no less just because you love them so much. For example, the park we spent our last outing at? I really still love it and want to wander around it. I think of that time we spent holding hands and walking along, remembering how your hand felt in mine. I chuckle at our jellybean antics before the dance recital. My memories of our lovely times together doesn't make me mourn your current absence. They help to keep me sure that we've always had something wonderful between us, and that thought gives me joy.

You'd think, then, that I wouldn't be so depressed. Unfortunately, I get enveloped by the regret of my mistakes and the emptiness of your abandonment. If only you would make more nice memories with me... I should be grateful, though, that you left me with the bright memories that we made. So, thank you for those. I will never forget them.

Life in dreams

In my dream last night, I was given a slip of paper that I was told I could redeem at a currency exchange building in order to get money. It was given to me like someone leaving a fair would give away extra attraction tickets. When I got home, I told my mother that I was going to get some money for my upcoming trip. I didn't tell her about the slip. She's always said not to accept money from someone that you don't know, and that's exactly what I'd done, so I didn't tell her the complete truth.

I drove alone down some freeways and found myself on a ramp to a completely wrong place. Up a grassy hill to my side was a street going exactly where I wanted to go. Apparently I wasn't the only one frustrated by the deceiving and confusing layout of the freeway and street; drivers behind me were driving off the ramp and right up the hill to get to the street, and drivers from the street were driving down the hill looking to get onto the ramp. I decided finally to follow suit, driving up the hill, avoiding trees planted along the sidewalk and pedestrians walking on it and signaling onto the street.

When I got into the building, I found that my mother had beat me to it. I acted too happy and made a joke about my independence. She stayed where she was as I went to a counter. First, I smiled gently to the two strangers behind the counter, and exchanged my own money for foreign currency. Next, I handed over the slip to be redeemed.
"That's horrible," one of them said, looking along with the other at a computer monitor.
"It's not that horrible," I replied, gaining the instant dream knowledge that they were looking at a personal history file somehow related to the slip.
They made various other comments, while I stayed quiet and started to feel guilty. My smile gradually became a frown. Finally, I was asked, "Can you recite the number on this paper?"
No, I hadn't bothered to memorize it or anything, so I admitted, "I don't want it. It's not mine. Someone at the airport came up to me and threw it at me, telling me that I could redeem it for money."
"Sounds to me like you stole it," an eavesdropping police officer said.
I looked at the officer somberly. I could hardly feel my astonishment over my emptiness. I wordlessly looked back at the people behind the counter. I woke up.

I don't think I acted in the dream very differently than I would have in real life. I may have been naive enough to take the slip. I probably would have kept the slip a secret from my mom. I almost believe that I would have crossed from the ramp to the road if everyone else was doing it. I always put on a smile for people in public, one that too easily slips away whether it's bright and accompanied by laughter or gentle and quiet. And I don't have enough emotion to genuinely react to peoples' accusations, even if they hurt me.

In life, I can't just wake up. I can't instantly disappear. But I would if I could.