One More Radar Lover Gone

I don't know what the point of this is, but I think that's kind of the fun part of it. Also I'm resisting the growing urge to grab something non-fruit and non-veggie (a.k.a. chips or cookies) to go nibble on, so a writing therapy session should be good for the soul right about now. Albeit not for the tummy.

I miss my life before October 22nd, 2010.
I have a headache. I have a heartache.

I've typed out 3 paragraphs and deleted them all. The first regarding my life pre-October 22nd and about to go into how I don't necessarily miss my ex or the relationship so much as my capacity for living, the second about the ex and the third about rasins.

I've found it difficult to string my thoughts together logically -- the magic filter in my brain that connects what I'm thinking to what I'm saying and blocks out all of the unnecessary stuff has fubar'd. Even my sentences are abhoringly, disgustingly run-on and cluttered. I feel as if I've been diluted.

Maybe I should write something on all of the stages I've gone through since losing my little brother. From screaming and extreme emotion, crying with strangers, relentless uncomfort in my own skin, not knowing what I believe in life anymore and the shock of being broken up with (even though, apparently we talked about it beforehand -- see the next example, short term memory loss) combined with unrooting my life and finding a way to replant it all again seemed too much at times. But it wasn't. We human beings have the capacity for more than we realize, and you dramatize and imagine something happening but until that hypothetical becomes reality there's no true understanding. No matter how great you are at imagining yourself in a situation.

Now the current struggle is a lack of focus. Lack of focus in conversation, lack of focus in life, in my long-term and short-term goals, in the people around me. Concentration be damned, I don't need it! Oh wait, I do? Fudge. Lack of motivation, as well. Incapacitated at life. I feel as if I'm freaking stunted, I can't do anything normally even though it seems like I'm normal on the outside. I just feel messed up: my body, my soul, my inner workings. Anxiety gets the best of me when optimism was formerly the majority, I don't recognize myself in the mirror anymore, I'm STILL in school at the age of 24 and after 7-8 years of college and I have no known tools to fix any of the problems I face in daily life. Something pops up and it sends me reeling over the anxiety attack cliff. Nothing pops up and I get depressed and fall deeper into my own private (Idaho) rabbit hole.

It's like I'm constantly out of breath, waiting for the race to slow down so I can catch up, but as I keep pushing and trying harder I fall further behind. There might be some glimmer of hope via some delayed deadline on a project for work, homework, having to get gas or someone understanding bits of my situation enough for me to feel a smidge of relief. But then the race picks back up and I start to feel like even gravity weighing me down is exhausting.

What do I do? (I'm just rambling stream of consciousness from now on to get it out.) Love? Lust? What do I do to keep on going? Nothing because we just keep on going anyway. How does this hurt inside go away? With time. What do I do when I feel as if I'm going to break from under it? Love. Why did these things happen to me? Why not?

I think losing a relationship after losing your little brother is a rare circumstance where erasing someone from your life would actually be beneficial and not have many repurcussions. I wish I had never met Devin. I am sure he is doing fantastic and that's great, I don't wish any harm for him in any way, I just think it was lose/lose for us to interact. Whatever lesson I was supposed to learn I could have easily learned from someone else with better timing, there was no reason for me to get my heart broken when my life was already broken.

See? Rambling. Is there any point to this? No, but there wasn't an intended point, which recycles back to me being frustrated at myself for not having a general pathway that this blog would follow. No general pathway makes it easier to start but harder to end.

I miss my family and my friends. I think this new place will work and be great. I miss being able to push myself and get shit done -- now I push myself and get minimal anything done of I'm lucky. I miss not complaining so goddamned much. I miss not being bitter or afraid or angry or hurt (at life, not at one particular person, though it manifests itself towards the people around me).

I wish I could take a soul-searching yearlong journey and just find myself again. Begin something and follow it through, meet some old wise people and learn to work hard again even if it's just sweeping the floor or on my hands and knees scrubbing. I want to be immersed in nature and learn to stop complaining again, I want to fully believe in.. anything. Anyone. How can I trust that anyone in my life is here for me like they say? I can, that's a lie. How can I trust anyone in the future will be here for me, if they say they will? How can I trust myself? I led myself to the situation I found myself in, in teh relationship and partly even with my little brother. I let things go a certain way and didn't do anything to stop them, okay, that's fine.. but what about what's next in life? How can I trust myself to make the right decisions when I so obviously failed?

It's the final countdown. Lost love and lives gone.
Bewildered. Bemused. Befuddled.
A pain-staking search. Agony.
Breathe in. Hurt. Breathe out. Ouch.
The air feels too thick, but somehow my lungs make it work.

Somehow I will make this work.