"Is it dead?" he wondered....

I think I need to vent again. I don't know where this is going, or where it will begin. I am not even entirely sure what it IS. I just know that its got to that point where I need to talk about it, lest it drown me and drag me to that dark place again.

While this is not applicable all the time, and may even only apply in very limited circumstances, practical reality can be really fucked up. Maybe fucked up is not strong enough a word. I am, of course, referring to that short live yet incredibly potent relationship that is out of bounds due to practical issues. But I am getting ahead of myself.

I think if you have read anything I have said before this, you will be aware that I went through a really bad low not so long ago. I think the bottom point was catalyzed by aforesaid incident. I have, however, since then got to a MUCH better place. The depression is largely under control. I feel it was amplified by the fact that I didn't deal with my....well....loss, I guess would be the right word. However, given that there was no future possibility, it seemed like a non-issue not too soon after. My brain convinced my heart of the futility, and it seemed under control.

It is still there though, that gnawing feeling of loss. Looking back now, at my attempts at relationships since then (IF you can call them that) I realise that I have become so terribly disconnected. I think maybe I convince myself that I am ok, and that all wounds are healed to only leave scars, and that those scars don't hold me back. I get this feeling however, that one wound is not so benign. 

It seems more and more that I am closing in on myself. I don't seem to open up anymore. I realise that I wouldn't even CONSIDER really opening up till well into a relationship. This effectively means that I am killing any possibility before it happens. This also means that there are a few people who have spoken to me extensively, and yet left before they even scratched the surface. That may very well be my subconscious sabotage working its magic. In this day and age of instant gratification, everyone is looking for the "thrill". Everyone wants things to happen fast and hard. Me, I have become an old careful soul. I need time, and a continued presence in my life and a belief that someone MIGHT stick around before I'd consider opening up. Needless to say, this effectively makes the possibility of a relationship all but impossible.

And I am losing interest. I am finding more and more ways to keep myself occupied, and I am beginning to notice that there is really little room for anyone else in it. I know that there is this subconscious and possibly primal desire to be with one of the few (if not only) people who can make you feel....home. Consciously however, I have all but given up. I dismiss the ideas whenever they come to mind, most often. I have gotten to being satisfied with the few fantasies in my head. Nothing spectacular, just regular stuff.

Which makes me wonder if the part in me that loves, in that sense, has died. I increasingly feel like the possibility of being with someone else is terribly unsettling. I might even go so far as to say that it seems......scary. I wonder if there is something in me, which would generally need to function to have a successful healthy relationship, which has died.

I guess these are all questions which can only be answered if I actually meet someone who eclipses how I feel about her. I don't know that that will ever happen. I don't know if its possible. Till then, I guess I shall bide my time. Perhaps, I will be "that" uncle, who is old and unmarried but "pretty cool". Maybe I'll be the eccentric old guy who makes for a good story but isn't too good with where he kept his keys. I guess, time will tell... So, till next time...

Deatched......

I have come to realise that as of late, I am going through an extreme sense of detachment. Not that I was ever the type to be particularly attached, for quite some time now. However, I have noticed an increase in its intensity. As of late, I no longer actively pursue ANY sort of relationship. Rather, my relationships have gained a more....reactive tone, shall we say?

What I mean is that I rarely initiate contact with people without a plausible reason. Yes, it is quite a secluded existence and yes, I do get lonely. However, given my two conditions which I must balance, at the moment it is the easiest way to balance things out. I no longer wish to do more than "make myself available" if and when the few people I have allowed into my life in a true sense (and have remained) need someone. It is in a sense helpful, because that way you stop worrying. Rather I stop worrying.

I stop worrying that a young girl will grow up with habits which will make it extremely difficult for people to care about her. I stop worrying that a guy who suffers from a diagnosed mental illness will continue to surround himself with spoilt immature and selfish people and find out too late that none of those people will actually be there when shit hits the fan. I stop worrying that a girl will make life choices based on sympathy, succumbing to social pressure and her own empathy ultimately assigning a life of dissatisfaction and regret to herself. In short, I stop worrying.

Well, not quite. As the above would indicate, I think I would be fooling no one to say that I do NOT worry at all. Rather, I have understood that these things are beyond my control. I have also realised that I need to pay close attention to my own volatile mental state, because...lets face it, its not like anyone ELSE is going to! So, detachment it is....