Written During Depression

    This is a series of general thoughts, poems, and stream of conscious whatever the hell that I wrote during the peak of my depression and anxiety. Some of it may be concerning but don't worry I am in a much better place than I was when I wrote all of these. Part of me looks back on these with despair, part of me cringes, and part of me is prideful. I'm sharing these in the hopes of increased transparency. Admittedly, I'm not entirely confident this is a good decision, but fuck it we out here. Honestly, though, this is a part of me I never thought I would share. This may be depressing or maybe you'll get some laughs out of some of the goofiness, either is fine. Feel whatever emotion this brings you. Just remember that I'm not asking for pity but for some understanding. As we move forward onto more developed and interesting topics, first let's take a look at me at my lowest. 

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Thinking about tomorrow

Fear and Anxiety

Something so small

Something harmless

Creates pain

I'll walk, talk, breathe, think in a way I'm uncomfortable with

I want the minimum and the world

I have to discard you for me

But before I do that, I want to be comfortable enough not to need you

Is that possible?

Am I capable?

I'll walk, talk, breathe, think in a different setting

Sink or Swim

I'll do both and fail

Comfort is the enemy

But it's my only friend

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Gun in my mouth                                                 --- current Brandon note: At this point I was certainly

Could I pull the trigger?                                        having some suicidal thoughts, but I was nowhere

Thinking about all the possibilities of life            close, in reality, to taking any action. The thought had  

I'm not bound by love                                            simply been crossing my mind more often than usual.

I'm bound by hope

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Analysis comes after

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I wanted this

I never wanted this

I thought I could handle it

I never realized I might not want to

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Friends, I'm sorry.

I care too much about myself to care enough about you

I wanted to be great

Better

Losing touch was inevitable

I can't make you care about me

I wanted to save you from my problems

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A panic attack

I should've seen it coming

I couldn't take the weight of their eyes on mine

Staring aimlessly

Painfully aware

I have to leave but I can't communicate

Paranoid thoughts, looking at the world through a hostile lens

They wanted me dead

I felt it

Hide from everybody

I can't hide from my mind

That's where they live       

-- current Brandon note: Not schizophrenia, referring to weed-induced paranoia. The voices went away a long time ago (note: joking)

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Another day over

The fear of tomorrow will become the fear of today

I'll rely on stagnance to remain comfortable

I'll be late

I won't do my best

I'll miss the comfortability

I'll wait for it

I can't get my mind off of it

I have to save myself

A couple more months

Then I have to save myself again

And if history repeats itself

I'll fail

Do I have what it takes?

Hope is dwindling

I have to save myself

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Awake now

"Why are you still in bed?"

I feel uncomfortable in my "home"

The bed is my only friend

It does nothing for me

Days wasted seeking comfort

Years

Life

Inevitable failure

My body is failing

No energy

No motivation

Still young

Seeking comfort never saved anybody

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Everybody has demons

Demons aren't politically correct

Demons go against the grain

Demons are socially awkward

Tell me your demons

I don't mind

Ignore the others

They don't matter

But I understand

It's not easy

Who can you trust?

I've made too many mistakes

My lack of response is demon-friendly

But know that I care

Words don't come easy

We grow separately

But I want to see where you're at

Even if my demons takeover

And it seems like I don't care

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I want to feel your intimacy

But my fear takes over

"Subtle mistakes feel like life and death"

Life is social

People choose your fate

They don't understand their power

If they do, they either abuse it or become enlightened

One is easier

You can't ignore it forever

You have to choose

If you don't, the abuse wins

A hierarchy of over 300,000,000 is subtle and complex

Is social enlightenment a choice?

What does that mean?

Transcendence

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I'm embarrassed to speak on topics I find interesting because I know I don't fully understand them.

I can't, and dislike, feigning understanding of anything. Let alone topics as complex as consciousness, death, social structure, religion, emotion, knowledge, morality, mental illness, etc. All I can muster is "I don't know." I'm not an expert. I'm someone whose problems and isolation have led me down a path of constant awareness. Or worry and panic about truths that may or not be there. I chose this path out of necessity. My obsession with myself relative to how I view other people. I mostly speak about myself. I defend myself by garnering sympathy. Silently begging for empathy. Trying to kill my awareness is slow suicide. Using my lack of knowledge is another defense. As much as I believe something to be true, I use my lack of knowledge as a way to end conversations that I do and don't want to have. Especially if the other person knows more than I do. I will silently idolize them while persecuting myself for my limitations. That's envy. This is something I ought to recognize but not obsess over. To recognize my envy and to be insecure about it are very different. Being insecure about it breeds another layer of envy altogether. Envy of the non-envious. Or seemingly non-envious. 

I don't know what an individual thinks. Obsessing over my limitations can only breed more perceived limitations. Whether they're accurate perceptions or not. Without supreme intelligence, I can still be a kind man. I can be as genuine and thoughtful as I'm able to be. People will love me regardless of my shortcomings. I am blind to the limitations of others until they are made abundantly clear. Others may experience it in the same way. My friend tells me he doesn't see his own intelligence but holds many of his friends, including me, on a pedestal. He believes I'm intelligent. Of course, he may be lying. But he may also be telling the truth. If he is lying then our friendship has little time left. However, he related to my mental problems in a visceral way. I could see he was speaking truthfully and to deny that is to doubt my instincts and intuition. I hold my other friend to this as well. I spoke to him deeply about my insecurities and mental breaks and he related in a way I'm not sure he even fully understood. I need to put away my desire to have more or greater mental problems in order to better relate to and experience my friendships and relationships. There is a time and a place to speak and think of my problems. To subtly do it with people I care about promotes miscommunication and brittle friendships. Truthfully, it is a compulsory thought pattern that I have trouble getting through.

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I care so much. To think that all of my problems and profound thoughts boil down to a social disorder is nearly heartbreaking. However, I don't think that makes them any less important. They are me. Which is more enlightening, to ask many questions or to accept that multiple possibilities may be true and I simply don't know? Is the latter ignorant or accepting of what is true, rather than making a futile attempt to explain the unexplainable? A question with no answer seems to sit with loneliness, but to look for an answer that isn't there is similar to trying to experience nothingness.

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Shame is my greatest sin. Shame that I fail. Shame that I'm not perfect. Shame that I feel shame. Shame that I distract myself from the shame. Shame that I lose when I confront my shame. I don't have the energy for any of it. All I want to do is let the world see my light but they don't get it. Neither do I. Writing this makes me feel small and unimportant. I think of what people's opinions of this may be. The embarrassing "I'm misunderstood" cliche. To wallow in self-pity is my greatest sin. There are more important things than my shame. "You can't save the world until you save yourself." I see myself regressing into past behavior but with looser morals. I try not to get stuck on things. On pain. On silly self-righteous beliefs. It doesn't matter what you think if your behavior doesn't back it up. If your behavior contradicts what you think, that creates an uncomfortable cognitive dissonance. People can see that. People see your behavior more than they hear your thoughts. Behavior is an indication of thoughts. It doesn't tell the whole story, though. If your thoughts and your behavior contradict, it creates a palpable tension. The only thing you can ask yourself is "why?" The extent to which you can answer that question falls on you and your knowledge. Whether you determine there is an answer or not, that question is the foundation of human exploration and knowledge. It's why I am where I am. I can't live with that cognitive dissonance. I have seemingly no purpose. "The greatest philosophical danger is suicide." The desire to have a purpose that is founded upon life's ultimate truth. We all live and we all die. We are all born. Our parents were born and they will die. Our grandparents are born and they will die. We desire to create and support life. Is this life's greatest distraction? Or is there more to it than I realize? Does the reason people continue to live boil down to desire? To fight and ignore death until it is no longer possible? Is that why there's a large population of the world dealing with mental illness? We have more distractions now than ever before. Maybe other people are the greatest distraction. More than this, though. We share the knowledge that we will die someday. Does that create a powerful interconnectedness? Not only this piece of shared knowledge but all shared knowledge? Why is this so powerful? Purely because of our evolutionary sociability?