It's been a strange few months. Like many in my position I've made lying a habit. It starts out of politeness. People ask how you are and you don't want to blanket them with how bad things truly are so you smile and claim things are great. It begins to spread out from strangers to people you love and care about. Then it gets to a point where you're lying to everyone, spouse, child, parents, everyone. I'm always reminded about how much worse other people have it than myself. I understand this and I don't like to complain. So I've kept so much hidden from everyone. My physical, emotional, and mental state. While I was probably the worst actor to ever be featured in my high school's drama and theater club, I've become an amazing actor in my day to day life. A job I've done so well that those who love and care about me have no idea. In doing so, I've stuffed so much down and pushed so much away that instead of ever addressing problems, or personal demons, I've ignored them. In ignoring them, they've only grown and become more fierce. Things don't go away when not addressed, they just stew and, often times, get worse and get the better of you. In attempting to protect those I love and trying to appear 'normal' I've ended up in a place of self destruction.
A few months ago everything came to a head. I found myself stressing over my many book projects. That need to write something that's going to change my career status and thus my financial status for the future of my family and those close to me. I was becoming more and more stressed out when a thought hit me with a reminder: I never really wanted to write books. It was never part of my plan to become a 'novelist'. I wanted to write film scripts, plays, and comic books. And here I was, stressing to the max about all these (now) books I had on my plate. Something I never really imagined doing in my life has become such a focus that I find myself freaking out over it all. I had decided to walk away and try to figure things out.
Of course, the stress wasn't and isn't really about the books but everything else I'd chosen to ignore for so long. I had to back out of projects I was to help out on. I didn't feel I had anything to offer in my current state and I didn't want to give friends sub-par material. Some closest to me understand the depths of how bad things have gotten and have been lovely and supportive. I can't appreciate it more. I've started to address these issues and am slowly on a path to repair the damage done. It's a long road to hoe.
In the past few months I've slowly been developing something I'm not really used to which is anxiety. I have friends who struggle with anxiety. I'd never really gone through it, not on their levels, but I've struggled with depression and rage, etc. for so long that I understood their plight to an extent. Not being used to it, when it started it was, well, startling. I found myself getting really anxious just texting back and forth with my dad yesterday. I was playing Columns 3 on Sega Genesis (I'm a retro-gamer) and my phone was buzzing. Instantly I dreaded it. I felt I had already done chores, went for a walk, wrote some, now I just want to be left alone. Just leave me the fuck alone. We texted back and forth like normal but it was harrowing. I didn't understand it. We talk all the time. It was no different. But for me it was painstaking. It went away and the wife and I went to visit him with no issues. I feel that way almost any time my phone goes off, a lot of times when I have to see or talk to people, and just speaking to anyone in general. I'm used to a severe depression dropping in out of nowhere but this was a feeling I wasn't used to and it seems to be growing. It comes in spurts, sometimes in the middle of grocery shopping and bill paying. I overcompensate with more acting.
Finally realizing what it is that I've been dealing with, I decided to go against what I'd normally done, and actually tell my wife what's going on. My wife had never noticed, saying "I would've never guessed. You're Chatty Cathy just chattin' it up with anyone, making jokes, being the life of the party." She still doesn't get it or the overcompensation. Half of a day I'm yearning for connections with people, the other half I'm just wishing to be left alone. Sometimes the feelings ping pong back and forth intermittently throughout a day regardless of what's going on. I have a feeling it's a result of the buildup of unattended issues but I'm no doctor so who am I to say?
Again, my friends who are aware of my problems (most now self-imposed) are very supportive and patient with me. My family still doesn't know or understand. I've been told by my wife that my feelings don't match my actions and my coming forward with it is causing confusion. I, myself, am still trying to make heads or tails of it all. I want to love and be loved, I want stronger connections, but I want my own solitary confinement, and the two don't really mesh resulting in weaker connections and stronger anxiety.
I don't regret writing books. In fact, I've got so many in line that I'm working on that I'm getting better at it. I'm just trying to keep the stress in check as it's not something I asked or yearned for so there's no reason to stress over it. In terms of that, it's gotten better but I'm still dealing with depression and anxiety.
I'm not sure why I'm posting today other than to get this more off my chest and to tell those I'm close to that I love them. Love while you can. We aren't here forever nor will we be in each other's lives forever. Talk to people. Listen to people. Some people argue against the phrase 'life is short' saying it's actually really long. Well, a productive life is short. You're about as productive in your old age as you are as a child. The time in between is all we really have. That time to be productive, not only in our chosen vocation but in our relationships with other human beings. The old adage of 'tomorrow's never promised' rings quite true. Everybody's fighting a battle we know nothing about. Your spouse, your child, your parents, your friends could all be gone tomorrow. You don't want to waste your time today with anything truly worthless.
Life is funny. When you're an adolescent male, the act of telling a friend or whatever that you love them is met with looks and jokes. There's a homophobic level of 'Ugh dude, that's gay' and all this other crap. When you become a man, all that shit goes out of the window. If I love you, I'm gonna tell you. I'm not a dumb kid anymore, I realize people's importance in my life. I know these people important to me won't always be here. Telling my friends "I love you, bro" is no different than telling my father or brother or what have you. Again, a productive life is too short for bullshit and games.
One of my best friends, more of a brother to me than my own brother, tells me that it's hard for guys to express feelings as we're raised to believe that doing so shows weakness as well as a lack of masculinity. I've never really thought about it in expressing my own issues, it's just been more about not wanting to be 'that guy'. We all know that guy or girl. The ones who you can't have a casual conversation with without being blanketed by negativity. The fear of becoming another Eeyore leads to an act that fools everyone and strains relationships.
Like everyone, I had a hard time in high school and just growing up in general. Up until recently I never really knew who I was or how to act, thus resulting in just acting insanely awkward. I was never comfortable with myself and never learned how to talk to girls or how to even conduct myself around someone I liked. I had no one to get such advice from growing up, like a lot of people. All the relationships I'd seen growing up were fractured and faltered in various ways. I didn't have the confidence or gusto I'd seen most guys have in my youth. I have the same thoughts as most of you, 'If I could go back with the knowledge I have now, things would be different.'
I'm still a terrible public speaker and I normally hate reading aloud. I'm not much of a speaker at all unless it's just casual or joking around. If I could just write everything I'd be golden. I'll be in heavy conversations and can't really relay what's in my head. Yet, if I take some time and write it all out, it looks and sounds a hell of a lot better. I guess I just save everything for the page, as cliche as that sounds. When I speak, my 'real voice' is typically low and often in mumbles, and according to my wife it's often unintelligible. When speaking to most people on the phone or whatever I try to speak more clearly but it doesn't always happen. When I write there's no grumbles or mumbles or half-finished thoughts, it's all there in plain direct text, everything I want to say but can't vocally find the words for. I guess some people could read my work and talk with me and be sure that I have a ghost writer. I'm not smart, I'm not dumb, I just can't (or don't put forth the effort) to say what I can just write.
Writing can be a selfish thing. You're alone with your ideas and building your own worlds, creating and raising people as if they were your children. One of the things I love about writing is there are no rules. If you're making something up, you make the rules. BUT I'm just wondering if what I love doing is helping fuel any of the loneliness or anxiety that I find myself dealing with. I walked away from it all with the thought of 'I don't know if I want to go back and continue at all'. Trying to figure out how to deal with it all led to the only outlet I've ever had - to write about it and/or to write through it to get through it.
I live in chronic pain and depression, and now with anxiety. I have to take pills to act like a normal person. Another way to stuff things down or push them away. I recently started sleeping with a C-Pap machine due to sleep apnea. So I'm on meds to appear to be a normal active member of society and have to sleep while looking like Tom Hardy's Bane. Constant doctor's appointments and now therapy. In all this, it's hard to even feel human. I often think about how I have to live like this forever as well as if I even want to do that. Is this a life worth living? These things keeping me functional make me feel less like me. I'm torn. Growing up, I never thought I'd be living my life like a science experiment but it's how I feel I'm living.
Until I find the answers, I'm going to keep writing and keep loving. I laugh when I can and play old video games and read to unwind. You gotta find what and who makes you happy.
I won't have you forever, and you won't have me forever. This is all but a moment in time; how will we spend it?
