If someone happens to find this, and you've had to 'make entry' through my window, or door, I've most likely unintentionally overdosed on Kratom (if that's even possible [there's more in this room]). At the moment I'm not sure if that's possible, but I've probably taken like 10 grams in a bottle of Darigold Mocha milk.
I am depressed. I am extremely depressed. I shut it out during the day and try to be the best me I can, but I have come to the belief, from the time that I was very, very young, maybe as young as 5-8, that I'm fundamentally different from the masses. Different from the minorities. Ignorant, naive and short-sighted people may attest that "That's a good thing! You don't want to be like everyone else! Just be yourself!" To those people, .I say "Shut the fuck up, and go speak about something you know something about." And you can't say logically say that I'm wrong, either. This is my experience with life. Just because it's not yours, or others (and it doesn't fall under the heading of common experience or common understanding), doesn't make it less real, valid or torturous. Once again. I am DIFFERENT. These things that I say I hate about myself, and wish were different: for the effect they have on my life, socialization, and my happiness as well as countless other factors-I would much rather have a more typical, 'normal', less intellectual, more social existence. An existence where I am more socially accepted. One where the number of people my age (or even in proximity to my age) who really want to spend time around me can be counted by on their finger and toe digits for someone other than a quadruple amputee. (Read: 0, or somewhere between 0 and 1, think decimals/fractions).
It is rare that I am able to find good friends in this life. Normal, perhaps, but in my life I've only generally had one good friend at a time, except one time I remember for a short time I had two.
I feel like I should move out of Seattle. I was unprepared for the coldness of the new people that I meet. It seems like almost anyone who is halfway interesting to me, is uninterested by
me, in general. Especially women. I've even had fleeting thoughts of becoming a faggot (sorry, I'm highly discontented) just to get some physical acceptance / sex. That's one of the
most pathetic things there is. Couldn't get in a meaningful dialog with a female where I had any interest whatsoever, so I might as well jump into a situation with a fucking dude. I really
thought I would have met a few women and dated them at least since I've been out here. Since Kelly and I broke up in April/May, I haven't even had a fucking date. I've tried. I've asked
several girls out. The common factor, always me. Not even the things I say, my approach, or my confidence (at least in themselves)... Just me. Facebook, match.com, or in person. Hey
Match.com, you know that 6 month guarantee? I can't even get responses from anyone I'm remotely interested in. Just being myself, and a more conservative, non-creepy, somewhat
more outgoing self.That leads me into my next thought.
I have settled for almost every relationship I've ever had in my life. Both platonic and romantic. Seems like I have almost always shopped in the 'bargain bin' for people with whom to
have some interest in me, in some way. My only choices are from what others declined to accept.
And I'm not saying there can't theoretically be a diamond in the rough, but very few of
entities in this 'bargain bin' are even gems, mostly limestone, shale, clay, clumps of beach sand, and occasionally, petrified feces, if you get my meaning on this one. I know life isn't
necessarialy about being happy all the time. It's a whole 'nother thing entirely to not have the reasonable tools to find the tools, to fiind the resources or knowledge to have mooments
of true, uncompromised, non-rationalized bliss. The closest I have ever come in my life was with Kelly K, and drugs. I have a rationalization for using Kratom tonight, other than the
fact that I'm a fucking addict. It distracts me / mitigates the longings I'm having to come to some decision involving suicide. It's not technically a 'drug', depending on your definition,
but it's definitely in a gray area relating to my nearly 7 months of clean and sober time. I'm on my anti-depressant medication, Paxil 40mg once per day. I've been on it for about 11
years, and maybe there could be a better medication for me -- actually that's not a bad idea, maybe I'll look into it again now that I have employer medical benefits.
I'm tired of dwelling on this for the time being... Though perhaps I don't take *enough* time, or more likely action about this subject. But what action to take? Assuming I'm looking for
that action to be positive? I do want to fix / resolve these issues... But if I can't... it's only a matter of 1-25 years until I kill myself. Really. I've been thinking about it for the past 15
years, off and on. I'm 27.