Inelectable Modality of the Loneliest Goblin

One thing I would like to laugh at my former self for, and my current self, for that matter, is the sense that by solving any short term problem life itself will be solved at all. Prior to me going to bed tonight I got out Ulysses, because it's Bloomsday, but I did literally nothing to commemorate it besides texting my comrades in arms from that month, partially because I'm lame and partially because San Diego is lame w/r/t the arts, but anyway it got me thinking -understanding (or not understanding) Ulysses was in no way a precursor to an easier way of life. I'm no closer to having solved a better way to move throughout the world on a day to day basis than I was when I wrote these notes in the margins. 

That's not to say, though, that the book didn't change anything. It's just that no matter how many changes I go through, I never seem to find any answers to an easier way to get through life, without feeling so ridiculous all the time. On the one hand, this is great, because it means that I'll probably never get too bored of life, which is a fear. On the other hand, I don't like being so scared all the time. I don't like that little things can still set me off into very paranoid and anxious moods.

It is crazy, though, how things that were such a huge deal at a time can recede so much into normalcy later. I am actually not, in this instance, making any weird allusions to my current life. I am speaking instead of the D.U.I., which I'm sure my friends from that year so lovingly recall.

Actually, I met up with two of the kids I took Ulysses with last month, and they didn't remember the DUI! Amazing!

But no what I mean is, I was arrested for drunk driving four years ago, got convicted, the whole shebang, and it has morphed over the years from a shameful incident, something I got upset over, worried about a lot, saw as a black mark on my mind and past, has become something that just is. (To clarify, drunk driving is bad and shameful and never do it I do not condone my own former actions.) But it's no longer this like, wart. It's just an instance, of life, and when I think of it, I no longer feel physically uncomfortable and icky.

And it's nice to know that in life, the things that happen to us that cause us shame do recede like that. And maybe not just the shame incidents, but everything. Instead of focusing on what didn't/isn't happening, which pretty much everyone does at some point so let's just be honest, it helps me to focus on that what happens is just going to become a part of the narrative.

It's strange to live this life, where to all outward appearances I look like a total normal person, but pretty much everything that has happened to me is so weird and apart from traditional narratives. This is not an attempt to oppress myself, I'm not saying that the weird things that have happened to me were in any way marginalization, because they're not, maybe a narrative of weirdness.

Because it's all just WEIRD, okay? And I know probably everyone thinks that at some level, but maybe not, because from my vantage point of viewing much of the public with their guard down, it's like, most relationships are pretty normative. And I have never had not only a normative relationship, but like everything that has happened to me w/r/t men is just ABSURD! Like I think I every person I've been into / slept with / dated / whatever has a strange narrative, and I mean every one. Srsly try me.

And like my jobs, okay, I'm a waitress, seems normal, right? Well my restaurants are not just like, oh, it's a restaurant, weird stuff happens, but they're like these crazy atmospheres that are unique in a way that pertains directly to me! Like how is that even possible? For instance, my restaurant now, once I was up for like a million hours of the night panicking and coming up with theories about things and I was like man one of my biggest fears is that men will be overwhelmed by how intense I am, and I walk into work and just realized, BAM, I work with all these really intense women! And all the men are so calm and mellow, just like the only men I get along with, because of course they have to be, to not lose their shit among all the strong women!

But so it's like, how did I end up there? Of all places?

Or, you know, when I lived with a hippie who stabbed himself and a 53 year old entrepreneur. Or when I hooked up with a rapper from New Jersey in Budapest who is on Spotify. Or the time I got kicked in the vagina by a horse. Or the time I inadvertently caused a campus wide uproar. (Really didn't know that everyone was going to read the play. Thought it was a joke.) Or the time I forgot my pants to work at IHOP. Or the time David Sedaris told me to work at Hooters. Or the time I got into a screaming fight with one of the most famous artists in Ghana. Et cetera et cetera.

And I mean, obvs, some of these were my own fault. But lots of people do stupid shit all the time, and not as much weirdness erupts! Again I'm not complaining, because it's funny, rather marveling at how it is possible for so many things to be so odd but interesting.

But then I'm like, what if I'm just the lamest person in the world? What if all these experiences that I view as interesting and humorous are actually just bleh in comparison to the 'real stuff' of life that I'm missing out?

And even though I did a terrible Bloomsday job, truly my worst ever, I'm still letting myself keep it in bed for the night, because it's comforting even though it's not this year.   

general existential malaise pt 2

I roused myself out of bed to go on a run this morning, and not ten steps out of my house I was already crying. I thought to myself, this is pathetic / slightly poetic. Then I remembered the line from Rent, that's poetic / that's pathetic, and remembered that even our despair is already accounted for in the realm of art.

Which I guess should be refreshing, but it isn't. It just makes me feel like an idiot for being so sad about the things I am sad about when they are such small potatoes in terms of all the other things that have happened to people over the course of time / this year / today.

But then I'm like, who cares? I'm so sick of this idea that people shouldn't feel their emotions because worse things have happened to other people. Because, duh, if we really look at it, even the saddest thing that has happened to the most unlucky person we know personally, even if that thing is truly tragic, is dwarfed in comparison to the I don't know, typhoons that decimate entire cities in third world countries or the Irish potato famine or a bomb going off anywhere.

I don't know where the idea of comparing the sadness in one life to another came anyway, because it's such a logical fallacy. Of course it's important to train yourself in both empathy and sympathy, but at the end of the day you're still going to feel what happens to you the deepest and the most intensely, which means that you can only truly compare the things that are in your own realm of experience.

And thus, for me, I am sad, because something happened to me that had never happened to me before, and it departing from my life in slow increments that left me consistently confused and alone feels horrible. And I don't want to feel guilty for that anymore. I already feel shitty enough, guilt isn't another thing I want to hold.

That, on top of my continually worsening general existential malaise, isn't great. I don't know how the general existential malaise and the other thing really intertwine, anyway. I think I would be less sad about the thing I'm sad about if I didn't have the general existential malaise, but I'm sure that the sadness makes the malaise worse.

On to the malaise. It is not improving. Every day is still hard to get through, and the most frustrating thing (is there a most frustrating thing? Everything is frustrating) is that the list of things that make me feel better is growing shorter. The thrill in going to TGI Friday's alone to eat endless wings and drink bad cocktails has exited my life. Yoga is boring and frustrating. Running still helps, and I cross my fingers every day that it'll stay that way for long enough to help me on to the next place. Going to the movies alone is reaching its shelf life. I can't even eat the entire bag of popcorn anymore or care enough to get a refill to take home.

All these things sound silly alone, but that's not how they feel to me when I struggle to take up the time in every day with things that don't make me miserable. Everyone says I should watch TV, but honestly, I just can't -

People always think I'm being pretentious when I say this. And I don't think anyone really believes me when I try to explain, but I will once more: I wish I could watch TV to distract myself. That would be awesome. I would love to just lie down and binge watch a TV show until I'm ready to go to sleep or whatever next thing. But I can't. I turn on something on Netflix, I watch for five minutes, and then I'm so distracted and frustrated and annoyed that I turn it off. It just doesn't occupy my brain, it only makes me feel worse.

Reading and writing sometimes still help. Sometimes they don't. It depends on the day.

It's frustrating, because I know that even though I'm definitely more predisposed to feel sadness than the average person, via being more open to feeling it instead of pushing it away, I also know that I'm not at all (thankfully) the kind of depressed where you can't attain happiness like other people can. I know that happiness is attainable for me. There was a time when it wasn't even that hard. But there are certain circumstances that need to be in place for me to be truly happy, and it's not like they're that much to ask. It's not like I'm saying I need to have a perfect job and an amazing group of friends who are constantly around and a great relationship etc etc to be happy. I think that all I really need is more mental stimulation and more hope of interesting things to come.

And theoretically, those things aren't that hard to attain. But I need mental stimulation from more than just a book. I need to be able to engage with the things around me, and I've tried, for a long time, to engage with the things available to me here, and I just don't think that the problem is me anymore. And are there exciting things on the horizon? Yes, but they're far enough away that I can't really concentrate on them without driving myself insane. Which, as you can probably tell, I am already doing.