heartlessviking

as long as I can remember, I’ve been fascinated by death. Not usually so much in that I will die someday, though I always supposed that I would. I lost a caregiver at a young age. For some reason it still bothers me that no one told me she was sick until she was already gone. She was my great aunt, and is probably responsible more than anyone wants to talk about for who I became. She was an opera singer, spent a few years doing that in Germany, then settled down with her lawyer husband. Her daughter couldn’t have kids of her own, so […]

I think it really comes down to how petty I feel being dissatisfied. I really want to, because I’ve been trained to since birth, give myself a pep talk that will get me up and swinging again. It’s a huge reflex, but I recoil at the thought of it. _I don’t want to get up!_ Seriously there’s no point. All these things are meant to make a person submissive. Pay your bills, barely touch your debt, fix your belongings. The rest of them seem quite entertained. Must be nice! Then again, clearly I don’t think it’s nice, I think it’s rather a cruel thing to […]

I don’t know why nautical metaphor feels so fit for describing depression, the common denominator of loneliness I suppose is unparalleled. The point is; I feel quite alone, especially in philosophic and religious desire. I seek that which is beyond human understanding, and at the same time fully admit that what I am looking for may not be there. Those around me get more and more upset about my qualification that I do not know everything. Yet, there is but one flaw I cannot stand; pretending to know what you do not. So I am disliked/shunned by the religious and the atheists. I have a […]

I came up for air for a bit today. That is to say I sobered up for the first time in a few days. As sober as I get anymore, which I suspect is still in the refractory period for the intoxicants I use. I lasted about six hours…. found enough to do that I felt relatively productive to the point I didn’t have to run from the void.

Now I’m running again, and plan to run for a bit longer yet. I want to know what the pitch is for someone at my stage to sober up; oh no, throwing your life away? What life? […]

Right, so I’m a little toasted, a little buzzed, so it is possible that things seem like good ideas when they aren’t.

Three months into this major depressive episode, and I’ve reached the point that the part of my mind which adapted to pull me out is trying to do that. Getting those sort of hopeful thoughts that in the past I would have taken at face value. No more, it’s not getting away that easy. I only ever trusted others assuming that they could be decent, and that delusion is hard for me to go back to.

Some of the things I do are reminders for […]

For those with high anxiety (when will he tell?!) I’ll relieve you straight out; it’s money. Me and money both get along too well, and get along not well enough.

So, why do I despise/love money as I despise/love myself? Step into my mind; my parents did okay, mostly because up until the mid 90s there was such a thing as a upper middle class, and that’s where I grew up, adjacent to very wealthy people. I went to private schools with them, and nothing I experienced in my childhood convinced me that the other kids had it better; their parents ran after money all day, […]

I see quite a few people unhappy with feeling nothing. If you haven’t known agony, I suppose nothing might seem unpleasant. I’m a big fan of nothing, that empty void which cannot be filled and doesn’t desire so. That’s me today, after several days of being moderately feeling, I awoke today to feel nothing. I look at my hands, arms, legs, body, and they are just a facile set of window dressing, very little to do with me.  I feel like a parade balloon, others pull me along by my guide lines, I just bob and nod, look at the meaningless man, is it Easter […]

So, as things seem to happen, we had a little collision between my private health crisis and the support group. The major issue/technique is called dissassociating. It’s the point you pull your brain back and try not to return to the land of the conscious. You can even do it while awake, and every now and then a therapist will tell you that it’s “meditation” and “good for you.”

I’ll grant, I’m a fan. When I first wake it is incorporeal, aware that my body has decided to be ready to be inhabited again. Then I fight that urge. Stay abstract, my hands and body feeling […]

so, today I went to a support group for suicidal people…. and they talked about the effects of stress on the human body, and breath training…… I have BS in psychology and have been in therapy for over twenty years. You seriously think I don’t know how to breath? or the effects of stress? For pity sake, I was doing breath exercises when I was 12…. here I am 21 years later realizing that there’s nothing better.

so, I also got an appointment with a therapist out of the whole thing……. not optimistic. The theme today was finding hope. What fucking hope? It’s a miserable species […]

I think I’m settling in on method. Given that no one is at all interested in preserving my body, I’m thinking about killing my liver. Yes, I’m planning to drink to death. It might take decades, but it is relatively certain.

Right now I’m at the stage where I need a drink to get through the day, meaning I should be on to full day drinking alcoholic within a few years, non functional a few years after that. The difference is that I’m not keeping it any level of secret, my doctor knows, my therapist knows, they don’t have anything better to give me. I’ll take […]

I study misery, so depression would be a common and understandable outcome. I’ve been thinking though about why I keep coming back to that state of powerlessness, of wanting to walk away from the project. I have a degree in psychology, published research, and I work with trauma victims.

The thing that irritates me, and I’ve been trying to find a way to discuss this with anyone who will listen… Though the violent people, the angry people, the judgemental people, may look like the problem, the problem is us. Those of us in polite society who are willing to dismiss; “evil”, “sick”, “racist”, does it matter? […]

I was trying to explain to a straight [non severely depressed] person how I feel today. Then I hit it;

the entire premise that most adults function on ; “Maybe someday it will get better.”

That’s just it though, if you fail that deception you end up depressed. The carrot on the stick is a better day later, and I’m at the point that the carrot has to be made of plastic, because that is how distant a better day is.

So, that’s it for me. It isn’t getting better. Everybody is dying the slow way, and all I want is to fast forward.

This captures my current attitude… empty, and craving proper disposal

A large amount of my issues have to do with ADHD and the combined effects of that, depression and anxiety. That’s as external as I can get; nothing I did wired my brain chemistry like this. I still feel like I should be doing better. I lost my wallet, and there remains a rational island in my mind that says it doesn’t matter, but it’s breaking me slowly but surely.

This whole year so far has been the end stages of the bargaining and beginning of trying to accept. I don’t belong, never have and never will. I really need to find a way to stop […]

this afternoon I started to pull up. Not significantly, there’s still no hope. The thing is, it doesn’t matter. I’m not invested in hope, it’s those other poor suckers. Tough luck for them, huh? Oh well, that’s life, and often enough death.

The metaphor I keep coming to is trying to make sense and come to peace with my prison. Granted I am technically a free man. Yet, I have no representation in government, nor freedom of movement, or even the freedom to do as I please with the things I own. I am as kept as an ambitious young man can be… and that’s the […]

I’m fed up, with the whole thing. Specifically, I work my butt off, tend to turn in good work, which even my employer admits…. yet, despite supposed ability, I’m not worthy of paying enough for me to do what I want, which is to not need welfare to survive.

So, my doctor had pushed me out a month and a half, now I’ve been on the on call for cancelations, which means that at this point if he calls, I pick up. This morning I was doing more “essential” training… and I get the call. So, I take it, and I told him how it is, […]

Note the sarcasm on the concept of “good news”, the “good news” is that after plenty of pain and drama the people I work for have decided to let me keep my job description. Middle class junk. I’m completely convinced that working class and middle class are in fact code for; subservient enough to admit that we are all owned, and none of us have independence of action or freedom.

All work which requires others is now in my mind a holding action. I want out, as in I am ready to retire, because I see no place in the economy for someone passionate about effectiveness […]

Understand that we all inhabit the pit, every and any person who has no particular influence, or economic consequence. The difference between the people here, and the people I deal with every day is precious few of the general public know how little they matter, or in fact anything matters.

The pit is where society puts you when it wants to forget about you. Every tale of misery or sorrow I hear describes accurately the atmosphere of the pit; that place where you wake up and realize that the framework of lies you’ve been telling yourself doesn’t make it any less of a pit. There’s this […]

I find vintage labor practices and relations fascinating, so you’ll excuse the digression into discussing coal mining, and why it may be indicative of the situation we will all shortly be in.

Coal mining was the first true modern labor job. While difficult, it involved juggling multiple details, and the cost of failure was death and destitution for owning companies. One of the first major strikes in US history was a coal miner strike. Around their necks they wore red handkerchiefs as a symbol of solidarity. These were the first rednecks.

Coming back to canaries. The reason canaries were used in coal mines had to do with […]