my zoloft is slowly removing all sense of feeling or real emotion from me. all my emotions seem to come from side effects of the drug rather than legitimate, honest emotion. i just feel generally peaceful all the time, but when i take the time to examine my peacefulness, i realize that i'm actually numb to everything, or i feel things from a very far distance. don't get me wrong, i often use distancing to ease a difficult situation, but i like to be able to consciously work towards that fully distanced self instead of having it just invade me, completely, at random.
the problem is, or rather the frightening thing is, the fact that it does leave me with a peacefulness, or what could easily be perceived as peacefulness, keeps me from investigating the true reasons of all this odd calmness. that was a really shitty sentence, but my mind woke me up ridiculously early today, and i couldn't resist the temptation to get a drink, smoke some weed, and have a cigarette (in that order, always). mornings are only a fuzzy blur to me. the point is that happy people don't question how they became happy like unhappy people dwell on their despair, and general calmness is at least in the same ball park as general happiness. something something.
i'm glad i realized it though. i think i may try no antidepressents for a bit. i'm tired of not having sex. ever. because i'm just not fucking interested.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
the fourth dimension
how it evades me, though it is pervasive.
these things i think i must do, where does the time go when the deadline is tomorrow or the idea has been pushed off for so long i no longer remember what it even was.
being a loner, a calm, laidback, introspective, intelligent, creative and sweet loner, yet somehow also blessed/cursed with this curious trait that draws me to care for people, albeit in an easily distanced way (in that i mean, i am fully honest in my caring for others, but it's easy for me to turn it off at the end of the day and cease worrying about this or that person in this or that bullshit situation), and so i'm something of a little paradox, preferring to be alone with my small family about me, as well as feeling the urge to care for others. i put my all into the latter, so that when i arrive home, able to embrace the former, i'm exhausted with the desperate need to recharge.
i certainly don't want to update my budget or purchase paint or ferret supplies (because this requires getting up to fish my credit card out of my purse, which is all the way across the room) or clean up the ferret shit dotting the corners in the room or keep up correspondence with anyone (regardless of how special to me they are) or do anything that whoever it is 'they' are deem necessary.
i don't understand how some 'bloggers' have a million people 'subscribing' to their blogs... how do so many people become interested in what some random dude has to say about his 2 year old kid? i've tried to read some, there's nothing interesting there because it's not about me or anyone i know and therefore their everyday lives are pretty blah. no emotional impact on me. that's why i don't care much for the news either. it doesn't penetrate my personal-world bubble, therefore it doesn't register as important on my meter. there's no emotional connection to any of it, though i'll admit it can be interesting at times. mostly it's just drivel. i believe this makes me something of a sociopath, which just furthers the conundrum that is me. or perhaps it's an advancement? what's the purpose of emotional attachment to so many far-off people/things anyway?
etc
these things i think i must do, where does the time go when the deadline is tomorrow or the idea has been pushed off for so long i no longer remember what it even was.
being a loner, a calm, laidback, introspective, intelligent, creative and sweet loner, yet somehow also blessed/cursed with this curious trait that draws me to care for people, albeit in an easily distanced way (in that i mean, i am fully honest in my caring for others, but it's easy for me to turn it off at the end of the day and cease worrying about this or that person in this or that bullshit situation), and so i'm something of a little paradox, preferring to be alone with my small family about me, as well as feeling the urge to care for others. i put my all into the latter, so that when i arrive home, able to embrace the former, i'm exhausted with the desperate need to recharge.
i certainly don't want to update my budget or purchase paint or ferret supplies (because this requires getting up to fish my credit card out of my purse, which is all the way across the room) or clean up the ferret shit dotting the corners in the room or keep up correspondence with anyone (regardless of how special to me they are) or do anything that whoever it is 'they' are deem necessary.
i don't understand how some 'bloggers' have a million people 'subscribing' to their blogs... how do so many people become interested in what some random dude has to say about his 2 year old kid? i've tried to read some, there's nothing interesting there because it's not about me or anyone i know and therefore their everyday lives are pretty blah. no emotional impact on me. that's why i don't care much for the news either. it doesn't penetrate my personal-world bubble, therefore it doesn't register as important on my meter. there's no emotional connection to any of it, though i'll admit it can be interesting at times. mostly it's just drivel. i believe this makes me something of a sociopath, which just furthers the conundrum that is me. or perhaps it's an advancement? what's the purpose of emotional attachment to so many far-off people/things anyway?
etc
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