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So Alone

I'm more alone now than I've ever been. I'm a 23 year old living with his grandfather in the middle of no where. My phone was cut off when my father dumped me on the side of the rode. My computer was taken a month before that happened when I was told addiction was my problem. My best friend has started to ignore my Facebook messages, and it's probably for the best she shouldn't have to deal with me. I am surrounded by family down here, but I have no real friends. No one to talk to or care about. My grandfather is distant and nearly impossible to hold a conversation with. I have a phone that can use wifi and a '99 laptop that has 1 gb of ram, but I have no one to talk to. My problems have made my decisions pushing people away. I had one friend left when I moved to middle of no where. Now I have no friends. When I'm not working I fill my 6-8 hours alone with video games, but eventually I always feel horribly depressed. I lose interest quickly and wind up scrambling for something to distract my mind from suicidal thoughts. I've tried working out, but it's hard to stayed focused on that when you don't see the point. You're hoping you die any minute. What's the point in making it look good? I'm trying to hold on and not give up. Blink -182's "Adam's Song" has become something of an Anthem, and I recently watched "What Dreams May Come." It gave some seriously good perspective on suicide and death in general. Maybe I just need to meet some people, but it's hard in the middle of no where. Especially when you can't give out your phone number or text people. Self-esteem is at an all time low. I can't imagine anyone WANTING to be friends with someone who has no transportation or an effective way of communicating. People have started asking me what I want for Christmas. Jokingly in my head I say, "a gun!" but I think all I really want is my family back. I haven't talked to my dad in a while, and our relationship is in tatters since he kicked me out of his car. I don't know if he knows it, but i really hate him. He has said over and over he just wants to help but everything he's done up to this point has just destroyed a piece of my life. I've run out of pieces for him to take, so I've got that going for me which is nice. I spend far too much time alone. I miss interacting with people my age. I'm really tired of this bullshit.

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Late Thoughts

I don't know if my thoughts go here when I'm not doing anything or when it's late, but what I do know is that these thoughts are terrible and terrifying. My mind drifts to suicide. It hangs on to those thoughts and refuses to let go despite my best efforts. I wind up staying up entirely too late. Is it fear that keeps me awake or is it the thoughts that keep me awake? Either way it's a battle every night. The medicine the doctor has prescribed is losing its effect. I think I need a higher dosage, and maybe I need to change the sleeping meds as well. I don't think I can live my life like this, and maybe that's part of my problem. I don't see my own future. I can see other people's futures. I imagine them as great architects teaching college courses, working mothers struggling to raise their children as their careers take off, project managers pulling a team together, fathers, mothers, and families. I can't see my own. It's not a possibility anymore because I can't live like this. I'm not going to last at this rate. Somethings going to give, and I'm going to crash again. Fighting my own thoughts and memories is the hardest battle anyone fights. No matter who helps it always comes down to you. You have to take responsibility for yourself. You have to claim your thoughts and control them. Everyone makes it sound so easy, but it seems nearly impossible. The thoughts creep in and hang out until light scares them back. As soon as the light is gone, they slide back into place. Fuck this shit.

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My son and I were watching a Let’s Play video for “Life Is Strange”. We were sitting on a couch talking while watching two people sitting on a couch talking while playing a game in which two people are sitting on a couch talking.

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Follow Purple Buddha Project on Instagram for more motivational quotes daily at @Pbuddhaproject

https://www.instagram.com/pbuddhaproject/

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Find that something to get you out of bed. I remember when I was working at a convenient store, and when I had the early shift, I would reward myself if I got up on time with a really good breakfast prepared for me by someone else. That’ll start your day off happy.

WISE WORDS FROM XIUMIN

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I fell in love with books. Some people find beauty in music, some in painting, some in landscape, but I find it in words. By beauty, I mean the feeling you have suddenly glimpsed another world, or looked into a portal that reveals a kind of magic or romance out of which the world has been constructed, a feeling there is something more than the mundane, and a reason for our plodding.

Donald Miller (via quotemadness)

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My Neverland #3

No worries anymore. I’m not depressed. I’m not bipolar. I just don’t want to grow up. I guess I was just imagining the suicide attempts and the suicidal thoughts. I guess closing myself into my room, not going to work, missing school, and having to drop out was just part of my process of stopping growing up.  I’m incredibly angry. I found out tonight that my parents talked to my therapist after my suicide attempt and hospitalization. I have not spoken to my new therapist about this, but apparently my old therapist told my parents he thought I just did not want to grow up. My parents raised this point to me tonight 3 months after my attempted suicide.

I guess those nights of restless sleep and nightmares were all just a part of my fairy-tale of not growing up. Those nights when I was screaming clutching my girlfriend’s arm as I slept were just the child in me refusing to grow up. Those days of dreaming of driving my car into trees to kill myself were just so I wouldn’t have to grow up. I guess the fact that I can never look at or wear a tie without thinking about the nights were I practiced hanging myself and tying good forbidden knots were all just to not grow up.

Those day dreams of death are my Neverland. I always thought Neverland was for Peter Pan and happy thoughts, but I guess part of growing up is knowing there is no Neverland. If being an adult means thinking about killing myself every day, they are right. I don’t want to grow up. I want to live in my fantasy world where happy thoughts exist. That beautiful place where the mermaids, Indians, pirates, and lost boys live. I’d have adventures every day. I learn why the red man’s red. I’d learn the mermaid’s song. I would fight the pirates and fly with Pan. I wish I still had dreams like that. 

It’s a tragedy really. My parents and sister know so little about me and my life. They can’t see that I’m drowning. They can’t see me hanging. They can’t imagine why the pills are locked under the sink. They grasp at the low targets for answers. Video games are your disease. Childish choices are your symptoms. Brooks, the problem you have isn’t real. You just don’t want to accept responsibility for your life. Step up. It’s easy everyone is doing it. Look at your buddy he’s married and has two jobs. Look at your x-girlfriend she’s got a job downtown now. Your problems are not caused by anyone but yourself. Your parents almost getting a divorce over your unfaithful stepmother would not cause depression. The loss of your family home could not cause things to begin to snowball. The college friends you thought were there for you disappearing when you needed them most couldn’t make things any worse. 

I will create my own Neverland. A place that I can escape to when the bad thoughts slink in. A place where I can have grand adventures. A place where flying replaces walking. A place where the aliens have befriended humanity. A place where dogs can talk, and cats appear to purr and knead on you to put you to sleep. A place undefined by limitations. The only rule exists that you must return. You can come and go freely whenever you want, but you must stop by. Even if it is just to say Hi to Neverland.

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I think I’ll always be a Lost Boy. If I ever grow up, it’ll be a miracle. This song is the best escapist song I’ve heard in a long time.

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Blank Pages #2

There’s so much possibility on a blank page. It could be a picture, an essay, a journal entry, a novel, or Calculus homework. I think there is something beautiful about that possibility because each person looking at that blank page will project what they want to see on to the space. The infinite possibilities would allow the observer to rediscover their imagination. An art gallery full of blank canvases would be beautiful, and it would be so artsy people would love it. The blank gallery would be such a strong statement about imagination and art. I think it would work. 

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The Inner Trap of the Mind #1

Thank you for the extraordinary past two years. I am sorry that you were taken advantage of by me. I know that’s what I did, but in those moments I had no clue what I was doing to you. It is so hard to admit I am capable of such an evil. Exploiting someone is something bad or “evil” worldly people do. I thought I was a good person. I thought I knew better, but after being a lazy good for nothing fuck for years, a man can lose himself. You’ve been there for me these past two years through my attempted suicide and my eviction, and I guess i made too many withdrawals and not enough deposits. The mental illness is not an excuse for the way I’ve treated you, and for that I am truly sorry. I clearly have a lot that i need to work on, and I should have been fixing myself this entire time. I think you finally realized I was doing nothing to work on myself tho, and after seeing me in that way there is no way to go back. I’m not even mad about the break up. I am more upset that after two years together, the world we created will be destroyed and gone in two weeks. I wish we could have talked about that time frame. I was expected to move out at the end of July anyway, and when I have no where to go, it is extremely hard to find a place to go in two weeks. I understand. You were too good for me anyway.

As I sit here and write this, I do actually begin to question my sanity. I have been thinking that a part of me knew I was taking advantage of you, and I just hoped you would never discover it. However, I think I overestimated myself. I overestimated the amount of control over a situation I can have. Maybe I’m sane because I did not control you like I have read about real mentally ill people. Thinking back to when you cheated on me, maybe i tolerated it because I knew it was nothing compared to what I was doing to you. Maybe even during your STD scare I knew an STD was nothing compared to what I was doing. Even now, it’s possible this letter is another desperate cry for control over the situation. My father said we can only control ourselves, and anything else is out of our control. That statement alone makes me seethe with anger. 

I think I am crazy, and I think you have figured that out. It probably was a good push for you to move out and live without me. I think my family dont think I’m crazy because they never see the real side of me. I hide myself from them, and I mask myself behind humor and a smile. You’re the only person who hasn’t seen that mask. I definitely hide my true self from everyone else. Everyone else thinks i’m super likable and friendly. I think that’s because I am so very good at feigning a friendly face. I remember back in high school when I read Devil in the White City looking back now I think I related to the “devil.” I remember reading about the women being seduced and taken into that gas room. I remember thinking how clever the devil must have been to get those women back to his place. The devil had to be so friendly to get away with it for as long as he did. I’m a little jealous.

I think the reason I do not like porn, sex, or stripping is part of my insanity. I see those things as perverse. I think the only reason I did it was because it was “normal.” Honestly, I thought it was tiresome and not worth the pay off. The more I write tonight, the more I am believing my insanity. One day will some psychologist look at this and say, “AH HA, those were the signs of him slipping away.” 

I never really expected to live this long. I always thought I would die before I turned 21, but here I am.

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The Beginning

Hello, my name is Brooks, and I have been diagnosed with unipolar depressive disorder. As of this post 6/7/16, I have yet to find a medication that works or a type of therapy that has helped me work through my issues. I hope that through this blog I can share my feelings, thoughts, and journals. Perhaps through sharing, I can find some peace or some help.