nexusdog

Where the fuck have I been!? You have no idea...

You know when you get bad luck, then a run of bad luck, then well, the shit hits the fan and you think, this is karma and reincarnation gettings it's pound of flesh. Well, that's my year so far. Fucking shitty.

Since I turned over 30-ish (ahem) I've experienced love at first sight, fell utterly in love, got shit on by person of my affections in such a way which can only be described at despicable induced by what I once thought was fear but now have reservations about giving that person any credit whatsoever over how I was dumped... and the pain it's caused me has been unbearable.

I've had my second nervous breakdown, got divorced, lost my home twice over (sold my own property to buy into the 'family' home) lost out on regular contact with children, become practically destitute financially due to renting, nearly died several times due to SSRI intolerance - the family of antidepressants which were given to me, including prozac, to help my depression, leading to at least 3 trips to casualty thru overdosing, and lately I have a prolapsed disc in my spine leaving me in agonizing pain and on a pain relief regime including 2 hourly doses of morphine and co-codamol amongst other drugs, an MRI scan, the possibility of an operation on my spine which may, if goes wrong, leave me paralyszed in my leg and foot, incontinent and lose the use of my todger and sexual functions.

Want me to stop there while you feel like cutting your wrists now? Yeah, fucking great year since I hit the mid life crisis period of life - and I STILL ain't got my tattoos (not sure about piercings, dunno if there are any I really like or would suit me to be honest).

Back to the depressing stuff...

I've got the regular issues, kicked off by a bastard of a father who psychologically kicked the shit out of my confidence before I hit double digit age and left me with deep rooted feelings of insecurity, guilt, self doubt, worth and that sort of shit, meaning that as 'noodle put it, as a relationship retard (I think that's how the terminology was intended - please correct me on this one).

On top of that, despite being dumped from several miles above ground level and generally treated like a cunt, I found my perfect woman, can't get her out of my fucking head and still, STILL, would you believe, have unconditional love for her - AND UNCONDITIONAL LOVE SUCKS DONKEYS BIG TIME! cos it means you have to accept you'll get fucked over and have to respect and love that person because you see past all the shit and love the person for who they really are and try to get past their own issues. And for what? I'm still alone, still grieving, probably will do for ever more now I've met her and she walked (more like bolted!) away without any fucking word or reason or concern for me. That's love, that is... And that was fucking irony.

I've been in hospital for the best part of last week mostly sleeping and taking morphine for the constant pain I've been in. Now I'm home, I'm still in pain, still taking medication and still suffering from the same fucking effects that depression does to you - kills your mind, cancer of the mind, as I call it, because it eats you away from the head and destroys your ability to function as a normal person.

I can't drink alcohol anymore because the depressive effects it has on me has become so pronounced it sends me into a deep depression which leads to thoughts of self harm on a more and more regular basis.

And you know what, I don't actually want any of this shit - I don't WANT to wallow in the fucking mire and shit it brings, I want to be able to function, to be happy and not preoccupied with feelings of not being good enough or worthless or unlovable. I just want to have a regular happy life. And I don't, and it seems I can't fucking get it;

Today being a classic example... Finally got enrolled in a CBT depression support group, starting tonight. Turned up at centre - no one there. Person who was supposed to open up centre failed to show or answer calls.

All in all, this year has been a fucking disaster by any stretch of the imagination and what I really want, as I suppose most of us do, is a partner, soul mate, friend, lover, someone to care for me, who cares about me, who I can make a difference to their lives - the nearest I get to that are my children; my daughter turned 4 on Sunday, she's gorgeous, so is my 1 year old son, but that doesn't substitute adult intimacy, does it?

I stand here, metaphorically, looking at the tatters of my life around me and think I am a waste of space, my life is worthless, so am I; the evidence of this year proves it and I can't change the fucked up thinking in my head to convince myself otherwise, I'm too old to change that screwed up message planted into my head when I was a child by my bastard of a father.

So I'm sat here listening to the Blue Nile ('Noodle, go grab their albums, you'll thank me a million times over).

I also began to try to get support from a depression support website which, again, went tits up in a spectacular way when I provided a link to this blog and my 'I HATE EVERYONE' rant some time ago. The denizens there were offended by the nature of SG and so I was publically ostrasized and ousted from that particular site despite putting the effort in to support others as they had done me before that particular episode.

So I'm smoking 40 a day, got a screwed back, no one loves me, no self belief, suffer chronic depression and expect people to actually read this stuff? When I was waiting at tonights support group, I briefly scanned the people there - didn't make eye contact, found it too painful to be there, all I could think of was the nervous, fake laughter and false persona's/fronts put up to make light of the situation. All I felt was that we were lost souls who'd been abandoned, again.

And yes, like you 'Noodle, I'm still in love with my ex, but I'm not good enough for her - dunno what your story is, but I got 10 years on you, so imagine how that feels when you're that far down the line.

Should I be apologizing for this shit? I don't know, it hardly seems appropriate - this is just how it is, how life goes. Trying to find the good, the interesting, the funny moments, but always swamped by feelings of fear and self loathing and being unable to get rid of them.

Oh, and I still have the insomnia, just to make life that little bit more fucking fun, staying up in the small hours, when the zone kicks in, with mind and body fighting for control - sleep or write, which is the worse time, because that's when the isolation kicks in at it's worse.

I haven't been to work in over 4 months months because I'm just a total mess... who could ever take an interest in a soul such as mine, one so overcome with issues, I resemble the baggage handling at Heathrow, as someone aptly put it once.

Do I have any answers? Well one reoccurs and means I'll deprive my children of a father... but the pain is so bad sometimes, most times, infact, that dealing with life is intolerable. I've become one of life's victims, the ones which people cross the street to avoid because they're just so screwed up.

Maybe tomorrow I'll wake up and feel better about things, not so depressed, but I know I've got up until around 4am before my next morphine shot to keep the back pain at bay temporarily until morning.

I am becoming more and more of a misanthropist because of their lives, their empty self serving, shells which revolve around only them and they can't see the bigger pictures or do nothing to make the slightest difference - remember Baraka? Remember the hairs on the back of your neck rising over the images as the film played out? How many people do you know or look at could understand that, or even seen the damned film and appreciate it's message?

Host of the Seraphim still scares me, sends shivers up my spine each time I hear it.... 'Noodle, if you can find it, get the Host of the Seraphim Trance Mix, and really be prepared to have your aural sox blown away (if you were on messenger, I could actually send you a copy - your call)... so now I've thought about it, that's what I'm listening to now.

I can't get past feeling this way and looking out at those shallow entities, who for the most part are happy with their lot, their aspirations to consumerism and two week holiday in August and watch the fucking TV for no other reason than they can't think for themselves.

How many have actually seen The Reduced Shakespeare Company and cried with the brilliance that only 3 yanks could pull off such a superb piece of theatre of the great storyteller? Utter brilliance, and yet wasted on the masses.

So where does this all lead? My curse is introspection, introversion... not living life, but fearing living it. No, I don't need to go to India to discover myself, but fuck me, the change of scenery would be a fucking appreciated!

Am I cursed? I dunno? Would I like someone to talk to right now, you bet your fucking arse I would - someone who is articulate and can meet me on the same level... and I did once and she walked out on me and never gave me an answer or reason or valued me enough to look back.

Life's a bitch, innit?