mattisonmorone

[mattisonmorone]

Righteous

I have no idea how long it has been since I’ve been here, but I can tell you a lot has changed, and in the same breath, nothing is different. Let’s start with the highlights, and then we’ll transition questionably into how I managed to once again nuke my entire fucking life in record time.

I moved out of my house earlier this year with my best friend and my girlfriend, I was (foreshadowing) working at TESLA, and things were looking up. 2 weeks ago, that all changed pretty quickly. I was fired from TESLA, my best friend moved out for his own good, and my relationship is, well stable isn't one of the words that comes to mind first, let’s just say that.

I had been doing relatively well recently taking care of myself, or so I thought. My life imploding did have a silver(?) lining of really opening my eyes for the first time in a while to how far I have slipped. When I was at TESLA my mind was focused on the company and work over everything, as soon as it left, I had nothing to occupy my brain and it just looked inward. Let me tell you something, I was not prepared for that.

I have a lot to talk about today, or at least I think I do. I’ve been meaning to do this since i got the news, and honestly I should have written the first day, but I think these two weeks have given me a bit of a different perspective. I’m not trending in the right direction yet, but I did have a few moments of clarity which at least is a start to something. This is my next step, putting some of my thoughts out into the world so I am forced to accept them. I am going to be honest with myself here, and part of that includes saying some somewhat nice things about myself that are more than just surface level. I’m not sure if you non existent readers are aware or not, but I truly feel uncomfortable saying things I am good at. I can tell you what I’m shit at until the cows come home, but ask me to list, or even worse, discuss what I’m good at and, well, I can already feel my skin crawling just thinking about that. So If you do find yourself in the somewhat intriguing position of skimming through this nonsense - take however cocky you think I sound, multiply it by about 6, and that’s my level of discomfort writing it. Trust me, I am well aware that this is a giant can of childhood level worms I have to unravel at some point, but that is an issue for another day.

First I want to start with TESLA. I tried for three years to get into that company. The second my best friend told me how amazing the company was, I made it my mission to become a part of it. It was the first thing I ever was genuinely interested in and that made me want to be okay with failing and still trying again, and I noticed that and kept going. Last September, with my friend’s help, I made it. I was finally a part of TESLA. 

I’m gonna take a quick side-note to say something contextually relevant as to why TESLA was so important to me. I am, without tooting my own horn too much, slightly above average in intelligence, but I haven’t felt that way in a long time. At the risk of sounding incredibly cocky, nothing had been a challenge to me in a very long time, and not only that, but nothing was even remotely taxing my brain. Over time I guess I got temporarily dumber(?) and felt like I wasn’t as smart because I technically wasn’t. I hadn’t done anything that made me use my brain in so long it’s like part of it just clocked out and went home for a “spiritual awakening hiatus.” That hiatus lasted until my first day of TESLA, when all at once I swear it felt like someone flicked that cobweb covered breaker switch and all the lights and power came on all at once. I hadn’t felt anything like it in years, and suddenly I felt like me again. I was firing on all cylinders, absorbing information and thinking ahead in a way I had honestly forgotten I could. It was addicting, and I ran with it - learning as much as I could about everything I could to do help everyone with anything in that store.

Anyway, super smooth transition back to where we were. I finally made it to where I wanted, and they wanted me to be the first advisor in a new store, which seemed to be a wide open lane to shooting up the company if I proved myself, which I set out to do. I had a bit of a bumpy start in training, but after that I found my groove and was doing well. (I had a whole paragraph going more in depth as to how good, and bad, I did, but I couldn’t bring myself to put that all in there, so we’re sticking with short and sweet). Then, things started going downhill. Covid hit, I got less busy, and as a result less focused, and suddenly I wasn’t doing well anymore. Things at home got a little messier, and by the time the hammer came down at TESLA, I was just getting my shit back together, but it was too little too late. I accept full responsibility for my loss of TESLA, and by no means hold it against anyone there. I fucked up, and I paid the price.

But what was the price? Well, for starters, I am very well not a damn one of you asked that, but who would I be if I didn’t add a scosh of theatrics to this. Secondly, and more importantly, it seems like everything. I really need to explain what this feels like, and why it hurts so much. Being a service advisor at TESLA was the perfect job for me, it really was. It was everything I wanted, and needed, and it was high pressure all the time with crazy hours and work I could just hurl myself into. But it was more than that, the new store and the team inside it had become my home. I mentioned how I hadn’t felt like myself in a long time, and that is true. That ended there. I felt like confident, happy, outgoing, smart, and charming me, and I loved it. We were a small team, relatively, between sales and service but we all got along, and it all just felt right. I felt safe, and relaxed, I felt like me, and as a result I felt like I could take anything thrown at me. When I got the news, and finally got home, I felt like I had just shattered. I miss TESLA more than anything I ever have, because it’s the only thing I really gave a shit about. 

I feel like I lost my home, and on top of that, my best friend is no longer here, and everything else is, unstable, to say the least. I don’t think I have ever been this low before, and I really hope I never go any lower then I get in this run. 

I’m sorry if some of this isn’t the best written, I haven’t done this in a while, and I was speaking to my brother and his girlfriend last weekend and telling them I hadn’t felt creative in a while, and that when I’m really low I can write but when I’m not I feel like I’m not nearly as creative. That being an entirely other whole issue aside, it’s all flooding back to me now, so I’m having a little trouble organizing it - shocking, I know - but this may not be the last time I post in the near future.

As always, if anyone still checks or reads these, I hope that my sometimes my hopeless dumpster fire of an existence brings some feeling of solidarity to some of you going through your own issues. Remember, you are not alone in this, millions of people are experiencing their own versions of what you are, and you should never feel ashamed of speaking of it. You’ve survived this far, you should feel like you can wear it as a badge of honor. 

I will leave you with this, I’m not sure who I heard it from, but somewhere along the line I heard something that stuck with me, even though I’m not religious, and maybe it can bring you some peace as it has brought me when I feel like the world is against me and I can’t keep going. “God gives his toughest battles to his strongest soldiers.” You do your best to remember that and live by it, and I will too, and together, we’ll all make it.

[mattisonmorone]

I feel a desire to write something, to express something that is rattling around in my head in what is probably the only constructive way I have, but I can’t. Somehow, without even being a writer, I’ve managed to contract writer’s block. I am desperately wracking my brain in an attempt to capture some of that magic I occasionally get glimpses of at my darkest times, but there’s nothing there. Everything is just uninspired, bland, and frankly boring. All I’ve managed to string together is this, and so far it’s certainly not going to capture the hearts and minds of whoever still checks this since I haven’t written a word in who knows how long.

I like to think that I’m doing well, but honestly I think someone looking from the outside would disagree. I’ve also started to realize that I’m avoiding going out more, that I’m not talking to people, that I cancel plans and just sit in my apartment or work. I think this is the beginning steps of the dance I find myself having to work through once or twice a year. I go to work, and I’m good, I’m peak me. I walk out of there and I find myself not wanting to do anything, not wanting to speak to anyone, not wanting to see anyone.

I know that this is going to lack a certain degree of continuity that I generally pride myself on, but this post is two attempts in and if I continue to start from the beginning I’m never going to get anywhere. I am having such a hard time writing, I haven’t felt this level of inability to string together a bunch of words in my semi-signature style in a long time. I can’t tell if if I’m not low enough to be creative, or if I’ve somehow reached such a new low that I passed that sweet spot where I become hyper creative and just reach a point where I’m essentially an amorphous blob of atoms vaguely in the shape of a humanoid creature.

Is it even worth it? That’s the question I’ve found myself asking, well, myself, for a long time. I obviously know the answer is yes, I’ve spent a large portion of my time convincing others of that, but somehow in typical me fashion I find a way to combat even my own statements. If I wasn’t such an unrepentant jackass I’d actually be impressed with my ability to refute even my own logical points.

Nevertheless, and against all odds (logic), I find myself tipping closer and closer to the ever-present siren song, just waiting for me to drop my guard long enough to fall victim to its beautiful, twisted melodies. I of course intend to fight this like captain Ahab with much better hair fighting my version of a psychological white whale, but with the minor twist where my story doesn’t end with me being dragged to the icy depths by my own hubris.

Well, that’s the theory at least, but I of all people am fully aware that theories are very different then practice, and in practice most theories fall apart.

[mattisonmorone]

1-800-273-8255 pt. 2

Recently I lost someone close to me to suicide. I’ve lost people close to me before to suicide, but this is the first time ever seen the effects on people on a daily basis. It’s incredible, albeit not in a positive manner, to see how the sudden loss of someone effects everyone who was in their life. The person is gone, but the impact of their life, and the loss of it, sends shockwaves through those close to them. It’s a combination of crying, sadness, funny memories, and questions as to whether more could have been done.

The obvious, logical response to those previously mentioned questions is that hindsight is 20/20, and that nothing can be done to help someone who doesn’t want help, but when people grieve, it’s like the logical portion of their brain succumbs to the power of emotion and just fades away into the dark turmoil of those emotions for a while. Instead of realizing the logical facts, loved ones are put through the emotional rollercoaster that is blaming themselves, those around the lost, and sometimes even the lost themself, all in valiant, but futile attempts to bring some semblance of understanding as to why this happened.

But here’s the thing, and as someone who has also found himself experiencing bouts of suicidal romanticism I feel I am qualified to explain this, when you reach a point that ending your life seems like the only way to ease the suffering and agony you experience every single moment of every single day, you’re way past any ability for others to understand. The torture you have to be enduring in order to make this seem like not only an option, but the only option, is utterly unfathomable to anywho who hasn’t experienced it. Even those of us who have stopped short of physically attempting to extinguish our light might not entirely understand that pain, but those who don’t have no chance. And I’m glad those people don’t, because I would never wish even the beginning of that feeling upon anyone.

I had a long talk with a close friend who also lost someone close to him in a similar fashion, and I came to realize something throughout our conversation and the experiences we have both endured, as well as continue to endure. Our lives are not our own. Once we are born, our lives belong to those who love us: our family, friends, significant others, pets, whoever we are important to. Taking your life ends your suffering and pain, but much like alchemy you don’t get something for nothing. You may be in peace, but those who you left behind have just started experiencing their own immense pain. As someone who has thought that was right course of action in the past, it’s important and eye opening to me to realize that our lives are not ours to do with what we want. Obviously to a certain degree they are, right up until you think taking your life is the right thing to do. Because in that moment it’s more important than ever to fight, not just for you, but for those you love. It’s more important than ever to persevere through the overwhelming thoughts and the voices telling you to take the leap, or pull the trigger, or whatever they are telling you to do.

I don’t know if anyone will read this, or if anyone going through these thoughts will find this helpful, but I hope you do. I know it seems like there is no reason to move forward, but all issues are temporary, with very few exceptions. I promise you it’s all worth it in the end. The pain, self doubt, soul-sucking sadness, it’s all worth it. If you read and feel the way I described, find someone to talk to, or find an outlet - a constructive one. Through many trials and many, many more errors I have found that putting my innermost thoughts out on the internet for everyone to see forces me to be honest to you, and in turn to myself. If I know you, and you need someone, you can always get in contact with me, and I will do whatever I can, or call the title.

The point is there’s always someone who wants you to live, even if you don’t know that, and sometimes being reminded of that is enough to keep us moving forward. And as long as you keep moving forward, or at least attempting to, you’re improving yourself, and improving yourself leads to a better happier you. And I know you, and we all can make it there.

[mattisonmorone]

I’ll find you

I haven’t had the easiest time the last few months, I’ll be completely honest. In times like these, I rely heavily on my friends, whether they realize it or not. They may never know the impact even the simplest encounters can have on me. I can take the smallest thing and use it to push me forward and keep me level. Because of this I want to take the time to thank the people who stand by my side even when I’m at my worst.

I know that even on my best days I’m not the easiest person on the planet to live with. I’m obstinate, argumentative, opinionated, I can have a short temper, be angry, be arrogant, and am convinced I’m always right until proven otherwise. Let’s all remember this is me my best day, because when the tables turn and I’m at my worst, all of those negative attributes are multiplied, along with some new ones. On top of all of that my positive qualities tend to start to fall away leaving me with the worst side of me.

I know that I don’t always make it easy for my friends to be by my side, I make far more than my share of terrible decisions, and horrible mistakes. And I have sometimes had a history of hurting people or causing rifts in close friendships. But I promise on everything I’ve ever cared about, I have never done a single thing with the intention of hurting someone or with any malice behind it whatsoever. I always begin, and end, with the best intentions. It’s just that often times my judgement and decision making skills land me in situations far less desirable than I originally hope.

The people closest to me know all of this. They know the bad and, at the very least hopefully, they know the good as well. And even through my worst moments they stand by my side. I don’t need to tell you your names, you know who you are. And I hope you know how much you mean to me. There will be fights and issues, but at the end of the day I know that those of you that I am speaking of will be there for me no matter what. And I hope that you all know that the same thing goes if the rolls ever get reversed.

[mattisonmorone]

Still Wondering

I have been trying to write something for the last couple of months, but for some reason I have been utterly incapable of stringing together a series of words in a way that properly explains what I’m feeling or why I’m feeling it.  I loathe these times because. if I’m being completely honest, I don’t do much in the way of making things better for myself or in the way of positive ways of dealing with issues.  I’m actually fairly certain that writing is the only good thing I do for myself mentally and emotionally, and usually when I reach a low point is the exact time that I also get the most creative and eloquent. Unfortunately this time I went way past that point, to a point I don’t think I’ve been in the seven or eight years since I’ve begun utilizing my missives as a therapeutic tool.  Not much in my head scares me these days, but not being able to be creative is terrifying.

I will admit that I have been finding myself romanticizing suicide and thinking about it far more often than usual over the last couple months. I’m not saying this as a cry for help, but as a way of forcing myself to be honest with myself by putting these words on paper and making it so there is no way I can pretend I didn’t think that way. Anyway back to the whole suicide thing; it isn’t anything new for me, I go through phases of deep depression and then pull myself out eventually and usually no one even knows I reached that point. This time though is different, but I also know why which is nice.

Last month I broke up with my girlfriend, and I lost my job just before that, and right after the breakup I spent some time in the hospital and now am currently waiting to get a minor procedure. All of those things together are pushing me further down than I have been in a very, very long time. I honestly don’t want to spend time with anyone, I don’t want to do anything, and even the times I do I can’t bring myself to do it. I am just, I don’t even know what I am at the moment.

I know I will eventually pull myself out of this, but in the mean time it is so hard. And of course I take care not to show to my friends or family that I’m struggling because I can’t stand the thought of being a burden again like I used to be. Plus, eventually, I will pull myself through this, I just have to figure out how. In the meantime, the prospect of ending my life will continue to be at the forefront of my thoughts for the foreseeable future, always looming over me like a creature daring me to take the easy way out and just give up. Unfortunately for that  creature, I’m pretty damn stubborn and its very unlikely that I will give in to those pesky thoughts. 

I know I make light of suicide a lot, and that’s because I need to do that to help myself move past it on my own, but, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, the prevalence of suicidal romanticism in my thoughts is honestly a little terrifying. I’m not used to it being this frequent for this long, and it certainly is effecting me, albeit not in the way it’s trying to effect me. I don’t think I’ve ever been scared of how much I consider suicide, because it usually is a fleeting moment, a passing thought, and when I’m alone in the dark which brings out the worst thoughts anyway. But now, I was in the company of a nice girl last night and while I usually would just be focused on her or the moment, in my head I was playing out a dozen scenarios of my very, very graphic and early self-inflicted demise from various angles like that fucking movie Valkyrie. I hated that movie.

I’m an unemployed, broken, broke, depressed, suicidal, pathetic 26 year old person. What the fuck am I doing and how the fuck did I get here from where I was supposed to be at this age.

[mattisonmorone]

Is a working title a title?

It’s been a while since I’ve written, and I apologize, somewhat to those few of you who may actually read my missives, but mostly to myself. This is my outlet to be genuine to myself, to take a hard look at who I am, who I was, who I want to become, and what I have to do to get to or from there. I suppose this makes tumblr a ghost of Christmas situation of sorts for me, although unfortunately as of late I’ve had an issue allowing myself to be motivated creatively enough to let myself write.

But moving on from that arguably somewhat forced comparison, I’ve started sharing at least some of my posts with the world on social media because I feel like if someone who is going through things I am can read it and feel like they aren’t alone, or that some stupid thing I say can maybe help them even a little, it’s worth the fear of opening myself up to everyone I know and everyone I’ve ever met.

I guess I can say my life is going pretty well right now, I have a new job (I know, another one) and I’m starting to get good at it, I have a relationship, friends, family, life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness - you know all that shit people talk about. With all of the good though there is inevitably a counterbalance acting on my behalf, preventing me from enjoying the positives in my life to their fullest extent. Whether that be my depression, self doubt, my almost predictable self destruction, or any of a litany of other options, I always seem to prevent myself from just reaching the summit on the long, arduous climb to genuine happiness.

Right now one of the main things is where I am in life. I’m watching people around me, younger than me, move on to great things, move out of the house, really begin to start their lives. I know that I’m still young and that it’s not a race - my parents didn’t have their shit figured out until older than I am and they’re doing pretty well for themselves. I just have issues stemming from my self image when I was younger that I would be nothing and never amount to anything. Now obviously that’s not true, I will do things, hopefully great things in my life. Although it may take me longer to reach that point than your average individual, the path you take has its benefits, and each decision made, each turn made, each time you get lost and find your way, it makes you who you are.

I wrote this initially as a venting of my selfdeprecating thoughts, but as I wrote and these words just came out it seemed like it would be counter productive to take what ended up being turned into a reminder of how individuality is what makes humans great and special and turn it into an orgy of self-loathing and self-pity.

I seem to have accidentally written something that actually seems to have helped immediately, and although I’m not sure how long that feeling will last, I’m happy to share it with you so that anyone feeling like I do can read this and maybe feel just a little less lost in the world, because goddamn it’s easy to get lost in this big, beautiful, tragic, wonderful world we live in, and it’s on us to help our fellow travelers feel like they aren’t alone so we can all reach our destinations together.

[mattisonmorone]

1-800-273-8255

I thought things were going better. I had a job, a girlfriend, I was feeling better, laughing, on the cusp of true happiness. Then, just like always, the bottom fell out and I saw myself staring directly into the endless abyss that is my self-loathing, depression, fear, and insecurities.

To start, I found out a friend I was once very close with has stage 4 brain cancer, then a week or two later my old best friend died, then two days later I got fired, and then I had his wake.

And it all just compounded everything and now I'm feeling more lost, broken, insecure, hurt, depressed, scared, alone, worthless, and god knows what else than ever. I literally just threw up moments ago from stress and depression and I don't know what to do anymore. I need to still do this on my own but I need to find a new avenue, a new angle.

Luckily I still have my girlfriend who is amazign, but even that I seem hell bent on figuring out a way to fuck up so that I really am alone.

[mattisonmorone]

...

It has been a while since I’ve written anything. Sadly it is not for lack of negative thoughts rattling around in my head, but more like a creative blockade. Even now, as my fingers hit the keys, I still don’t know what to write, leading me to believe that this endeavor may conclude as nothing more than a few sentences of nothingness punctuated by a halfhearted attempt at a closing statement. Well either way, let’s give it a shot, shall we? Considering I’ve just now decided on a core subject matter to begin this on, maybe I can string something together.

This will be far from my first time writing about this and likely far from my last. Loneliness and depression are so strongly intertwined at their core that every single time I begin to feel the walls of my depression closing in and my arms giving in to the strength on the outside pushing in, I know right behind it galloping in like Satan’s trusty stallion is the loneliness. What the hell does that even mean? See this is what I’m talking about, my creativity is clearly not at it’s best at the moment, which leads to other issues such as word choice, metaphors, how funny I am, and my general self confidence which is hanging on by a thread as it is. 

But I digress. The problem with my feeling of loneliness is that it isn’t effected by my closest friends and knowing they are there for me when I need them. For some reason when I get like this that doesn’t matter, and besides I would never bother them with my issues anyway. I think that’s one of my biggest issues, well that’s probably not true I’m a fucking mess, but that’s one of them. I am almost physically incapable of reaching out. To the point that it once took a friend like 20 minutes to get me to even begin to open up. And I can’t bring myself to ruin someone else’s good night with a bunch of bullshit that’s fucking me up. Like to me there is never a good time to reach out to someone that wont effect them. 

But also there’s never a bad time for someone to reach out to me. No matter what’s going on in my life or day I’ll always be there for those I said I would be. It doesn’t make sense, why can’t I and don’t I expect or utilize the same options from the people I open up to? I mean obviously there are some I just don’t trust enough, others I don’t want to be that close with, and others I’m more content with knowing me as being funny and helpful not a self-loathing disaster four seconds away from a complete mental implosion. And I really am, I’m at my worst right now I think I ever have been, I’m in real fucking trouble. But of course I can’t ask for help and even if someone reads this and asks me to open up I won’t. I did once or twice a week or two ago but I’ve gotten worse since then and just said nothing. I mean I am like literally one bad thing away from losing all the work I’ve done for myself and spiraling into God knows what bottomless pit of self pity.

 At the moment, and for the last week I’ve been doing pretty well as far as hiding it and not showing I’m a shit show, but honestly how long can I keep this up? The answer, I’d assume, depends on a variety of factors, none of which I am an expert on. But hopefully eventually I will do something and help myself some way and get somewhere and this is an absolute bullshit sentence. 

someone who has always meant a great deal to me literally just texted me right before I wrote this sentence and told me she can’t speak to me anymore because she can’t start something with someone else if she’s thinking about me. I know logically that it makes sense and that that is what is right for her and what she needs to do and that I support her in that, but emotionally I feel like I just got hit by a train. Which is not stellar given the rest of my circumstances considering just a sentence or three ago I was just saying I’m about to spiral out of control.

This is what happens to me, I lose people left and right. I feel like every girl I get close to and develop any feelings for disappears forever right in front of me. Now admittedly some are my fault and some moved on to something more and better than I could give them, and again logically none of these girls should be blamed because I have so many issues with commitment and opening up that I’m basically a sentient cactus with a penis. But again, emotionally each time it happens every previous time it happened comes back to me all at once and then I’m left sitting in this exact position falling deeper into my depression questioning why and what I can do differently and if any of these girls will ever have the feelings again for me that I still hold for them. The answer, most likely, is what will probably go down in history as the hardest “no” of all time, but that doesn’t stop me from still thinking about it every waking moment and every single second and I can’t get any of it out of my head.

I really don’t know what’s going to happen or what to do. I know logically one day I will figure it out, but as for now, I don’t know. I know I generally wrap these missives up in some kind of final statement with a punchline intended to lessen the blow of whatever stupid absurd self-loathing borderline suicidal thing I spent the previous half hour rambling on about, but this time I’ve got nothing. I’ll get back to you when I do.

[mattisonmorone]

Lullaby

If you had told me 7 years ago, my senior year of high school when I was well on my way to making it a full sweep of barely passing English, that just a year or two later my least favorite thing to do in school would become my biggest, really only, outlet as to figuring out what is going on with me I would have laughed at you. Fast forward to, well, right now, and here I am writing my whatever number it is post venting, thinking, and working through my head. It's funny how much things can change in just a few short years. I mean I'm nothing like the person I was in high school, and most other people aren't either. In high school, id cry when I got made fun of, I was fragile, I was a loser, I didn't have man friends, i never went to parties and I always spent weekends alone. I also hated, fucking hated, writing, and did literally nothing in school. Now to be fair, I still did nothing in college and failed out so that didn't change, but I'm not nearly as fragile as I was, and I'm so much more mature and introspective than I was back then. At my core I'm still who I was, but the person I've become was molded around that core to become an actual functioning person. I wouldn't call myself an adult, I mean I can barely iron a shirt, and I still manage to fuck up making mac and cheese sometimes, somehow, but I'm still leaps and bounds from where I was. And that's what's so amazing about us, and by us I mean people. We spend all this time trying to fit in growing up, and then as a collective, all at almost the same time, we suddenly realize that's an absurd use of our time and energy. We branch out, become our own people, with our own interests and personalities and styles, and in general can forget about those years where everyone was a dick. Because we realize there's more to life than that. I've always been so fascinated by change and what drives it and what we can become. What is it that drives us to alter who we are, even if we're afraid of change. What makes us realize fitting in isn't important? How do we take what we've learned, seen, experienced and change it into a positive, or negative page turn in our lives? I love seeing people I haven't seen in years, to see what our interactions are like and what I think they're doing in their lives and what they think I'm doing. We all changed so much in this short time It sometimes trips me up to see where everyone is. I'll never be angry about how I was treated growing up. Yeah, it was horrible, and I spent many, many nights crying myself to sleep, or wishing I was dead, or wanting to drop out or transfer. But those nights, and the days that preceded them, helped me become who I am. So I guess what I'm saying looking back is thank you, genuinely, to everyone who made me feel that way. Without you I wouldn't be who I am, and the character traits you instilled in me are some of my best. I just hope that any of you who still hold animosity to those who mistreated you growing up can see it from a less angry and destructive point of view one day as well. We would all be much happier and less angry if we could let go of grudges and learn from our past instead of harping on it. As for those who did the mistreating, I hope you also changed for the better and learned from what you were like then. Because in the end it doesn't matter what we were like in high school, we were kids. It's what we're like moving forward that will be what we will be judged by as people.

[mattisonmorone]

We are your friends

We all want something, all of us. When we're young our minds run wild with all the limitless possibilities of what we would do if we could do anything. When we're young no one tells us that it's too far fetched or not practical or that only few can make it to that level. We are allowed to let our beautiful, clean, precious minds only look at what could be, not what could stop us.

But at some point we get older, we go through school, people start telling us to be realistic, to go to college, or maybe a trade school. They tell us we should be realistic, that you can't be that thing that as a child made you so excited because it's just too unrealistic. That while maybe you could make it to the heights you dreamed every night as a kid when you were excited to get up because anything was possible, it's unlikely. We're told to settle for a good job, to make money, move out, meet a girl, or guy, have a family, be happy with the norm.

But why? Why do we let that happen. What happened to our dreams untainted by realism and cynicism. at what point do we succumb to what, compared to what we thought we could do, is mediocrity. Why do we let our dreams melt away with age until all we have left is a memory of a time when anything was possible while we sit at a desk or swing a hammer or make a call.

I think it's fear. I know it's fear. I know that in my case what stops me from pursuing my dreams is that I won't make it, that those dreams will be shattered by the harsh reality of, well, reality. As we grow up people around us, our parents, teachers, friends, hell people we meet on the fucking street, they stop telling us it could happen. They start to try to ground us, to tame our minds and teach them that we should shoot for goals, but realistic ones. Hell in high school we even had a class about setting and pursuing realistic goals. No one taught us a class about pursuing our biggest dreams. So over time we succumb to it. We start to doubt ourselves, we realize that while it may, may, happen, it's just too much of a long shot. Think of what people could be if we continued to support their dreams. I know that I'd be more confident in pursuing what I really want if I had people telling me every day I could do it, that it would be hard but if I put my mind to it and really pursued it it could happen. And maybe I'm an outlier, I know I don't have enough confidence in myself to think I can do anything, and I would need people constantly affirming me to pursue it. But I think that most people are like me, we had dreams we wanted to pursue but got torn from them by school and jobs and life in general.

So I guess what I'm saying is to anyone young enough to still have those dreams, those beautiful, untainted dreams, don't let anyone take them from you. Pursue them with the entirety of you mind, your body, and your soul. Put all the blood sweat and tears you can into it. You can do it, I believe in you. And to those jaded by social norms and societal expectations, try to regain that youthful jubilation. Try to pursue what you really want, because when you do what you love you'll be happy, and that's what we all strive for, right. We all want to be happy. And next time you see someone questioning their dreams, give them the encouragement and affirmation they need. Don't let another person drop their life's ambitions and dreams in order to live a life we're told is right. We can all do what we want, we just have to believe in ourselves and have a little help from our friends.

[mattisonmorone]

In the Name of Love

I'm in a really poor place, and have been for a while. Recently however it got worse. I'm leaving my current job, which is good because I need to do that, but that now means searching for a new job and that brings out my crippling fear of failure which really doesn't aid in my attempts to procure a newer and more gainful employment. These things coupled with my standard depression have made me basically a clusterfuck powder keg and I'm basically acting on a hair trigger. The worst part is I physically can't bring myself to say to someone I need you, I need your help. So I've been sitting here uninspired to write and unable to ask for help, trapped in a prison of my mind's own construction.

[mattisonmorone]

I need you right now, are you down to listen to me

I came to a realization recently, and it’s both interesting and sad. I can tell when I’m slipping back into my cycle of excessive and almost certainly unwarranted self-hatred and self-loathing. and it’s not even the normal tells, such as the weight on your chest or the lack of caring of your appearance or lack of will to do things. What really lets me know when I’m at my worst is when I get very creative. My writing becomes stronger, more emotional, much more articulate and clever. I get funnier, and my creativity spikes to levels it would never reach on a normal day.

I guess that’s where the phrase sad clown comes from. The more i feel like an abject failure, the more my mind benefits. It’s like the classic story of the tortured artist, however instead of taking my pain and molding and shaping it into something truly remarkable or beautiful, I just write a little better. Which, I suppose, is certainly better than nothing, but couldn’t I at least become like, oh I don’t know something useful when I go through this? I’m not asking for much, just something along the lines of a prodigy cellist or the next Rembrandt. You know, simple stuff.

[mattisonmorone]

Dímelo

It's funny, I always talk about not having anyone who I can go to on here, and how I can't really rely on anyone when I need them, but part of me kept being optimistic. I always thought that maybe I was overreacting, maybe I was wrong, I mean no one can have no one, right? Errr no actually, not so much. Apparently I was wrong, surprise! A few nights ago at one of my lowest points of the last couple weeks - which, by the way, have been a consistent and steady yet sharp decline of my control over myself - I texted a couple of the girls I'm closest to. For the record, not that anyone is keeping track, I find the attention of the opposite more adept at pulling me out of my self-imposed social exile and self-hatred for obvious and maybe less obvious reasons. Now one of these girls I'm currently talking to and the other is a former relationship who also goes through similar things as I do which means she understands me very well. One answered, but much later, and the other just didn't at all. But that's not even the worst part, at this point I feel like there's only one or two people I can, and also want, to talk to about what I'm going through. Everyone else I know, everyone I talk to, I don't even want to go to to cheer me up. And what does that really say? I really am as alone as I was afraid of. And yes it may be a bit dramatic, and to the outside world I may seem like a drama queen, but think of it this way: you spend your time fighting off your demons while also dedicating as much or more time to helping people around you feel better and get through their problems and issues. Then the one time in one hundred that you need someone the ones you really want to be there aren't. It's discouraging, especially when coupled with the soul crushing, heart breaking, genuinely scary feelings and emotions I'm experiencing every day courtesy of the fickle bitch that is depression. It's not easy to make it through this on my own, and I feel like I need to do it alone. Because I don't want to come to rely on someone who will inevitably leave me whether on their own accord or because I do something titanically unintelligent leading them to believe I'm not worth the time. Man that's a shitty fucking feeling to acknowledge. Realizing I myself don't even believe I'm worth the time or effort required to be in my life. I honestly don't. And on top of that I operate under the thought process that everyone in my life is temporary and therefore just one slip-up away from leaving me alone. Which, shockingly, doesn't really make the realization any easier. Hard to believe, isn't it?

[mattisonmorone]

Say it

So here we are again ladies and gentlemen, at that point where the self doubt returns, the self loathing creeps back, the sadness, the fear, the chest crushing weight piling on pound after pound. And it's all the same, the reasons why may be different but the end result is the same - I'm depressed again. But this time is different. I mean it's been coming back for a while but I'm worse now somehow. Maybe not my worst ever, but the other day I seriously contemplated intentionally crashing my car at 90mph. It was a very brief moment, the car in front of me slowed down, I started to, then thought "maybe I can just crash into them" and then let off the break for a split second. But that's the closest I've ever come, and on that day I wasn't even bad, it was a good day. So I'm really looking forward to seeing what happens when it's a bad day... Also I'm feeling more alone than ever. Friends are changing, I'm feeling ostracized, I don't feel important, wanted, special at all, anything. I don't understand why though. I have friends, I see people I care about every day but i just feel so alone I don't even know what I want to do. I'm just off, I know it'll pass, but at the moment it's horrible and I wish someone could tell me or save me, but I'll never ask. I can't ask. I have to do this on my own. No matter what.

[mattisonmorone]

With Me

I find myself incapable of deciding what I want, not that that's a surprise to anyone who knows me. My mind is constantly running, changing on me just when I think I have something nailed down, I'm lit a gerbil in one of those workout wheels, except I keep falling and spinning around and around. I know what I really want, but I'm too scared to go after it. I just want someone to look at me. I want them to look at me the way I know I have looked at others. I want to be wanted, and deeper than just a physical attraction. I want someone to love me. I don't know how to explain it. It's like a look in their eyes that says I mean something to them, a smile when they look at me, I want them to walk up behind me and wrap their arms around me. Someone who will push me to be better than I am and support me when I fall, which will be more often than any one person should have to bare. I just want to feel something real. I know I romanticize love, but I also know that the look I'm looking for is real. Because I've looked at a couple people like that, like my world melts away and all there is is her and I. And I've never had that look, not that that's surprising. I don't really put myself in situations where that is likely to occur. I recently had a, relationship, for lack of a better term, that brought me close to feeling wanted and desired. She was a close friend, and things progressed quickly into something more, and every time I was with her I felt desired, wanted, cared about, I felt the way I've wanted to. But naturally it ended, partially because I'm an idiot, and pathologically self-destructive, and partially because she needed to get away from me for her own good. So now I'm left lower than before, alone, and I don't know, maybe I'm not strong enough to handle that. I mean I've been alone for 5 years, so I should have adapted to it by now, right? Maybe I am, or maybe I'm trying to fight my complacency. I can feel myself falling into depression again. I spend everyday fighting it off and ignoring it, but I can feel it, it's hot breath on my neck, just waiting for me to slip up so it can sink it's teeth into me and pull me into darkness. And then I'll spend the next two months clawing and fighting my way out. Right before I wrote this I read something an old friend posted about a former boyfriend, and the way she talks about him, I want someone to talk about me like that. With a sense of wonder and passion. I want someone to talk about me like I matter. Not like I'm just a disposable person, or someone they can come to only when they have a problem. Not that I really mind that. I like helping people when they need it, but most people only come to me when they're falling apart, and that's fine for people I consider close, people who even if I don't talk to them for 6 months I'll still be just close. But then there are others who just use me for whatever. And although I don't mind it, it also makes me feel utterly unimportant. But I'm dedicated to making others feel better so that's okay. You see what I mean, I just went back and forth on both sides of a subject and still can't make up my mind. It's a mess. I'm a mess. I'm just gonna go to bed. Maybe tomorrow I'll feel better.

[mattisonmorone]

Henry Dreyer

December 31st, 2014. I'm standing at my friends house hitting on a girl who's probably a little young for me to be taken seriously, double fisting two bottles of francia corta given to me by father, and getting drunk and having fun. The clock strikes midnight, we all scream "happy new year" and the handshakes, the hugs, and the embraces go by like they're cut together into a slow motion montage. Then I get to my friend, the montage stops, the party music in the background cuts, and time resets to a normal pace. I look at him, he looks at me, we hug. "It was a rough year man," I said. "Don't worry, 2015 will be much better," he replies, and with that we break our embrace and go back to partying. "Don't worry, 2015 will be much better." Goddamn how wrong was he, for both of us. We both lost several people this year, it has been one of the worst years of my life, and it still, somehow isn't over. Last week, someone very important to me passed on, leaving us here and moving to a more permanent, peaceful resting place. Henry Dreyer was an incredible man. My grandmother taught him, and his brother John, dance when they were kids, and I grew up on that farm. I have been running around Dreyers for almost 20 years. I used to sit on Henry's lap and help him drive the tractor when I was like, four. Then after that I'd help him and his workers plant plants at the cemetery farm. I'd run around in the field with my brother and inevitably lose a shoe in the mud, only to have Henry show up at my front door months later with the shoe in a paper bag - he found it when he tilled the field. No matter what was going on he always took the time to talk to me, they all did. That farm is the most important place in my life. When I was younger I never felt like I belonged anywhere, I never felt safe. school, home, I was always being picked on, always being singled out. But when I went to see Henry, or John, they made me feel special. They made me feel like I wasn't worthless and like no one liked me. No matter what happened I always felt safe there. I love the Dreyers, I love the farm, they're family to me, and I, they, and the rest of Cranford lost a polarizing figure in our community. You will be truly missed Henry Dreyer, but you will never be forgotten. Thank you so much for all of the fun times and all of the things you taught me. I will cherish them and you forever.

[mattisonmorone]

Bad Intentions

I swear to you I never do anything with anything less than the best of intentions behind it. I really don't. I don't care how I act, what I say, I'm a good person, I care about people, too much, I really do. And I'm scared, I'm always scared. Scared I'll let my friends down, scared I'll let you down, scared I won't do the right thing, scared I won't live up to my own hype. I'm scared, I'm alone, and when I get like that I do really stupid things. I promise I never meant to hurt you, but it's too late for that. I did it again. Why, how, how can I do this. I had real feelings for you, I still do, and I ruined it because I'm just stupid. I'm beyond pathologically self-destructive. Why do I do this. How do I do this. I just, I can't handle this feeling. I'll never forgive myself for what I did to you, how stupid I was, I can't. I'm sorry. All I can say is I'm sorry. I hope one day you forgive me. You're incredible, you're sweet, you're funny, you're seductive, you're beyond beautiful. You're an absolutely amazing woman and I will never, ever forgive myself for how we turned out. I ruined us before we had a shot to be. I'm sorry, please find it in your beautiful heart and mind to one day look past my numerous mistakes and flaws. Thank you, either way.