I’ve never felt more alone than I do now. Some days, including this one, I think I’m bi-polar. I’ve never been officially diagnosed, but it wouldn’t amaze me if I was. I repel people more than I compel any form of welcome, probably because of the anger I constantly wear on my sleeves, or my lifeless stare that can become intimidating once I move my eye brows in the right, or perhaps, the wrong direction. These eyes of mine can look just as puzzled as anyone else pondering why I look so angry and full of disgust all the time. The answer, for anyone with a pulse, is really quite simple: I F*CKIN’ HATE FAKE PEOPLE.
Let’s face it, we’re all more than likely to encounter more sh*t (yes, people can count as sh*t/obstacles/problems) than we’d like to. And it’s almost always fake sh*t; people pretending to be gangsta but have never taken a beating or given one in their lives’ trying to start sh*t; hypocrtitcal people who treat others as hypocrites except themselves and try to justify their own double-standards when there’s really no excuse; people who lie to get something out of others without any remorse; people smiling in each other’s faces while backstabbing one another and ruining friendships and relationships for no good reason; people living off of other people and pretending they are the breadwinners, having never worked a day in their lives’; (INSERT BULLSH*T HERE).
The more fake sh*t/fake people I encounter who try to or give me problems, the more solitary I would rather be. I yearn for it because there’s no greater comfort than that of one’s own untainted, honest reality. It’s a comfort zone I retreat to; my cave of solitude where I know I can trust myself.
Unfortunately, as it is with many things not treated with moderation, it’s easy to get bored, lonely and depressed into feeling like there is and isn’t hope in finding someone to trust. The desperation and longing for another’s company makes you think attempting the same thing over and over again (trial and error) will bring good things – it never does; it’s delusional, wishful thinking.
After accepting an eternty of solitude, I feel I’ve hit points where ending it would be the greatest gift I could give myself — freedom from this sh*t life of mine. But the question hits: even if I did end it, where the f*ck would I end up, and how the f*ck would I know it would be better than what I already have? That uncertainty is, thankfully and ungratefully, what has kept me alive this long. It sucks knowing that we don’t know , and there’s no real way to know (yet, anyway) if what is after this life is better or worse.
So, as insanity would have it, I run back and forth, in and out of my cave, seeking both solitude or a companion of trust. And, as is common to define insanity, I seek the balance continually engaging in a repetitive activity where I think I’ll eventually achieve a desired result, but I obviously won’t; I’m stuck in an infinite loop of my own making.
1 comment
Hi uni687. This is a fantastic piece of writing that I found very thought provoking. I can relate to your dilemma to some degree. I know what you’re saying about being caught in an endless loop…wanting to seek the sanctuary or ‘cave’ of your own company, but then craving human company so being driven back out into the world again.
Also the dilemma of wanting a different kind of life, but not knowing what awaits us all ‘on the other side’ as it were.
Just one thing did occur to me. Do you think you are unique and alone in needing your own cave, where you can at least trust yourself? Logically is that likely to be the case? Is it not far more likely that at least some, if not many others do the same thing? That, therefore, there are people out there who are largely like you, and who therefore you may be justified in trusting?
Something else occurs to me too. If you can indeed trust yourself and your own thoughts/mind, you may be part of a privileged minority. One of the worst things about having a serious mental health problem, as I do (bipolar disorder) is that we often CAN’T trust our own minds. They lie to us all the time, both in depression and in ‘mania’ or psychosis.
Please don’t altogether give up on the human race DM2011. Not yet anyway? We are all social animals, and to deny that is to invite a very lonely life.
Just my thoughts. But do keep writing DM2011. You are good! Best wishes, Z x