I can't even explain it to you.
I have been toying with the idea of what it would be like to be someone else for a few days, I'm sure we have all done that. It's not a new thought, it's why I've always loved reading autobiographies of people I admire, to share a feeling or experience with someone, to live their lives from a page, to escape into their experiences. Stephen Fry also seemed to have this fascination when he was younger, it's probably a common habit.
It is not about escaping though, I know I have no where to run. You can't run away from yourself, your thoughts, your feelings, I can't even detach myself for very long from those and I have tried persistently for weeks. I even tried ignoring people, leaving them alone without me because I still don't think it would make much of a difference to them. Funny thing though, when I just want to be alone, not to wallow, but to think, people always seem to need me for something. When I want to be with people though, I never seem to be able to find anyone. Probably for the best anyway, I'm not great company even when I'm "normal."
For the past few weeks I have preferred to listen to music than to mosey out and see people, preferably something with soul, passion and music which would probably be labelled "sad." Although most of my friends seem to think listening to "sad" music when you're depressed could only make things worse, they're dead wrong. Seeing people going about their days, happy as can be, hearing their optimism and enthusiasm about their lives and listening to chipper songs makes things worse, it's like being pierced right through the heart. Why can't I be like that? Why did this happen to me? That's what I think when I'm surrounded by all those bright things. "Sad" music doesn't make me worse, it makes me feel comforted, it fools me into believing that I'm not alone, even when I am.
I'm a bit like a cancer at the moment, or a pathogen. Every time I open up to someone and try to make them understand, they become infected with my rather morbid and twisted perspective on life. I have to feel guilty for that, I can't not feel responsible for bringing people down, not quite to my level, but further down than they were before. Another good reason to stay away from the general population, I need to contain myself. I don't mean to do that to anyone, but it seems maybe subconsciously I wanted everyone to feel like I do, just so they would understand. No one understand though and the more time I have to think about it, the more I don't want them to understand, the more I don't want them to feel what I feel.
Every day my moods go up and down for no reason. Every day I flip from wanting to be with people, to wanting to be alone. I talk to people when I'm feeling particularly lonely most of the time, but I'm putting a stop to that, I don't want to rely on people for too long. Every day is like a continuous journey that I can only go on by myself and the destination just seems completely out of my reach. I don't think I'll ever get to where I want to go, because I don't know where I'm going.
To directly confront my life critics, all I can say is that I am trying. I know it must seem to some that sitting by myself, listening to music or just walking around for hours isn't a way to help myself, but it is. It's my way. I may not see a psychiatrist and I may not talk it out with other people, but that isn't a justification for saying that I'm not trying. Isn't every person different?
Maybe my ways don't work entirely, but I can't do everything everyone wants me to do, I just can't. I probably won't get better to be brutally honest, maybe because I can't see any future for me or because I don't care anymore. I can't spend everyday having to deal with my inner monologue while other people get to go around carefree. It's not fair, life isn't. I know that. At the moment I'm just being and trying, but I'm still contagious. I'm not going to infect people anymore.
I'm sorry for being so down and messed up and I'm sorry for not being able to try harder and get better like loads of other people do. I am truly sorry for pretty much everything people think I am doing wrong, but to me it seems completely rational and for a purpose. I know I'm not like most people, I know sometimes the things I do are ridiculous, reckless and dangerous and that's not usually me, but I'm not me at the moment and I can't be damned with consequences. What else could possibly go wrong for me? Why should I even bother caring? If my reason for caring is only for the impact on other people all of the time and not for myself, that's a waste of my life isn't it? At the moment I'm pretty sure it's the only reason I'm still alive, that and bad luck.
I think people should just let me be and end up where I want to be, wherever that is and stop misdirecting me. I love talking to my close friends, but at the moment their brutal honesty just hurts me and brings me to tears. I just want people to see what I see, but they can't or just won't indulge me, not even for a few seconds. Knowing that breaks my heart a bit more. I would rather not know a lot of things at the moment.
