Railroad Tracks

tracks

Walking an unknown railroad track
Wishing a train would run me flat
I am repulsive and ugly
Even they avoid hitting me

My father… he’s in paradise
My mother… died rolling the dice
I have no family
This is my destiny

I’m only ten and a half
No one wants my autograph
Who would work on my behalf
Please read the next paragraph

Every night I ask Mary
If she wants to come get me
Tonight on my bed of rock
I’ll ask her to stop the clock

Next they’ll find my body
Cold, wet and cobwebby
But I will be happy
Pretty soon hopefully

Right now I walk the railroad track
Wishing a train would run me flat
I am repugnant and ugly
Even they avoid touching me

Detachment

Detachment

I never thought the word detachment would become so meaningful to me.

The state of being detached or disconnected.

Absence of inclination towards something.

Inability to connect with others emotionally.

Indifference to the concerns of others.

I’m sure Psychology regards this as a mental illness.  Let’s see…  Yes, here it is:  dissociation, depersonalization and derealization.

Dissociation is a defense mechanism where certain thoughts are compartmentalized in order to avoid emotional stress to the conscious mind.  Check.

Depersonalization is the loss of one’s sense of personal identity.  A feeling of being unreal, detached or unable to feel emotion.  Check.

Derealization is the psychological symptom in which the world appears to be unreal, and the patient has a sense of detachment from it.  Oh yes, double-check that one.

Bravo.  Three more diseases to add to my list.

But there is another definition of the word which I find most interesting.  In the military (which I hate by the way), a detachment is the separation of a unit from the main body for particular purpose or a special mission.

Ha! ha!  In your face, Psychology!  Life has put me aside for a particular purpose to accomplish a special mission.  Oh yeah.

Now if only I can find out what it is…
Perhaps I should join the military…

Fuck that, I’ll stick with levitation.

The Bad Antisocial Guy

antisocial

I am planning on doing something terrible, unforgiveable, downright evil.

There is a huge family reunion taking place.  It starts in a few minutes.  It will last five days.  Only two hours drive from where I live.  My dear sisters have been planning this for over a year.  They reserved a 20-bedroom cottage mansion in the mountains.  They are all happy and excited to attend this great get-together.  Everyone is going, except me.

I will be the only one absent.  The black sheep of the family.  The depressed one.  The antisocial evil monster.  The selfish arrogant delusional smartass.  The one who claims to be connected to a higher consciousness but who can’t even interact properly with his own brothers and sisters.

I’ll probably be agonizing over this for the next 5 days.  I’m fighting a dragon that has seven heads.

dragon

I’m going to win this fight.  I know this dragon.  It has seven voices that attack my seven weaknesses:

  • You don’t love your family
  • You are selfish
  • You think you are better than the others
  • You have nothing better to do, you’re lazy
  • You have no friends
  • You’re a loser
  • You’ll regret it

I can’t wait for it to be over.  The planning of this family reunion has been dragging on for 12 months.  That’s all they have been talking about.  I had to delete the reminder from my calendar.  Just seeing it would give me stomach cramps.  The thought of it would made me squirm in pain.  Imagine being stuck in a cottage with 50 of your closest loved ones, for 5 days.

I’ll try not to get too drunk this evening.  Writing it down helps.  Thanks for listening.

Daemon
the sick Demon

 

My Girlfriend Dopamine

Imissyou

She left me, and I’m sad.  I can’t live without her.  She made me feel so good, so alive, so happy!  Now she’s gone.  Will she ever come back?

Dopamine my Love, come back to me please!  Life is lifeless without you.  You were my reason for living.  Now I have nothing.  No purpose.  No future.  Where are you Dopamine?

Why did you leave me?  I don’t understand… is it something I did?  Something I said?  One day you were here, the next day you were gone.  I feel so lost.

Oh Dopey, I just want you to know, how much I miss you.  How empty my life is without you.  All the fun we had together… is gone forever.  Nothing will ever be the same.  You were my treasure and my dearest pleasure.

I don’t know why I exist anymore.  You are irreplaceable.  There is no one else like you.  I can’t go on without you.  I need you Dopamine!

 

My Frigging Loved Ones

monsters

I have trust issues.

The worst part of it is that the group of people I trust the least is the one I call my “loved ones”.

I don’t trust my loved ones because the individuals who have hurt me the most during my life were all members of that group.

Very seldom have I been hurt by total strangers.

Some people have suicidal ideation, but my ideation is the thought of being abducted by aliens.  Which says a lot about the kind of people I trust:  those who come from the farthest places.

There is a reason why I blog.  Opening myself up to total strangers feels safe.  Sitting behind a computer screen feels even safer.  No one can touch me.

I’m sick and tired of being hurt.  I’ve had enough.  After a while there was no other choice but to withdraw.

Forgiveness doesn’t work.  It’s easy to forgive those who have hurt me but are now gone, like dead relatives of ex-girlfriends.  But when you live with the people who have hurt you the most, and these people continue to hurt you, then how can you forgive them?  There has to be regret, otherwise the forgiveness is useless.

I could run away from them, like when I left my first wife after our marriage had failed.  But I’m tired of running away.  People are the same everywhere.  I figured I had to find a way to live with them.

I decided to withdraw, for the moment, within my cocoon and do some serious introspection (again).

I noticed that I started to transform and I’m afraid that if ever I decide to come out, no one will recognize me.  What will I have become?  Or maybe I’m just going to die in here and reappear somewhere else, like in a totally different realm (this is what I wish for the most actually).

I thought of psychotherapy, but the problem is:  I don’t even WANT to trust them.  Why would I want to risk getting hurt again by the same people?  It would devastate me.  It’s not worth it.  I don’t need them to be unhappy.  I can be totally unhappy without them.

One day I will break free.  I don’t know when it’s going to happen but it will have to happen eventually.  I can’t stay locked up inside myself forever.

Dear Followers,

Why are you following me?

I am not any sort of leader.  What if I lead you astray?

Anyway, thank you.  I feel like Jesus, LOL!

You are forcing me to view myself as a guru.  Ok so I will pretend to be one and speak like one.  A-hum!  Here goes:

Welcome, my child. 

The path I propose is…  (how can I put this)…  politically incorrect.

What I suggest is this:  If you are suffering from depression or any other so-called mental illness, do not fight it.  Embrace it.  Feel the pain to the extreme.  But don’t kill yourself of course.  I think you can take it.

Within the pain, there is a hidden surprise.  But it’s at the bottom.  You have to reach the bottom.  The deepest part of the pain-pool is pure hell.  Perhaps you’re there already.  Or maybe you are not quite deep enough yet.  You’ll know once you get there.  At that point you will be saying to yourself:  “It cannot get any worse than this.”

I don’t know what the surprise will be for you.  It’s a personal surprise, custom-made just for you.  I have no idea how long it will take you to find it.  A day, a week, a month, a year, maybe 10 years.  It depends on you, and on your willingness to dare do the undoable, think the unthinkable or believe the unbelievable.

No one else can do it for you.  No leader or friend can accompany you there.  It’s a private, lonely journey within the darkest part of yourself where you and the future you meet.  There will be a connection.  A meeting.  An immersion and a communion.  As simple as a dialog or an exchange of gifts of some sort.  It will be a timeless moment where future meets present.  An embrace.  A revelation.

Sorry I can’t be more specific.  It’s impossible not to speak in parables at this level.  The words I use to describe the experience are not the same as the ones you would use to describe the same experience.  So I have no choice but to be vague.

Suffering is not a punishment.  It’s a door.  Don’t be afraid to go through it.

Yours truly,

Higher Self

People

people

Something unexpected has happened to me.
I’m not proud of it.  I never asked for it.
So I’m going to write about it.

I avoid talking to people more and more.  It started about a year ago and it has developed into some kind of obsession.  I don’t want to talk to anyone!

I don’t mind writing, but being face to face with someone makes me uncomfortable.

And I think I know exactly why.

People are not transparent.  I know it sounds crazy, but I have been pondering on this for quite some time, and I think this is it.  People are not transparent and I can’t see through them and there is no way I can ever see through them.

I cannot rely on appearances.  I cannot rely on what they say either.  I can’t rely on what I think of them or on what other people have said.  I can’t even rely on my own judgment.

So when I am talking to someone, I feel like I’m opening myself up to a mysterious living creature that has the power to lie, cheat and fake it, and that there is no way for me to ever know or to protect myself.

I feel this with the members of my own family!

I know exactly why.  I have been so naïve all my life, I used to trust and believe everyone, and one day I realized that my most precious loved-ones had been lying, cheating, manipulating and taking advantage of me for years, without being aware of it.

This has caused me to almost completely shut down.  This is the major cause of my depression.

I don’t trust people, especially loved-ones.  I don’t think I will ever be able to trust anyone again, not until they become completely transparent.  I have to be able to see through them, to see what’s really going on behind the facades. This will never happen, not on this earth anyway.

So my family life is doomed and so is my social life.  Fortunately I can still write to people, and that I do.

Hanging

sg15-10761

I’m not doing anything useful for society right now.  In other words, I am useless.  And aware that I am useless, isolated and depressed.  But there is something good about this that no one can see.

While I am stuck inside this cocoon, I am getting visions of grandeur.  I’m getting ideas of magnificence that have nothing to do with my old life and my dying self.  I don’t know where the hell those impressions are coming from.  They seem to be of a new me who inhabits a new world, somewhere outside of time.

I know, in a way, that I am just like the guy next door who suffers from bipolar disorder.  I’m also like the one I saw on TV who suffers from schizophrenia.  I could swear I hear voices sometimes.  Voices who say things like:  “I am the future you.  Identify with me.”

Exhilarating, isn’t it!  But no one understands.  From the perspective of earthlings, I am sick.  According to them, I should be “out there” enjoying life.  But I have lost all desire to do the things I used to do, the things that used to make me happy.  I no longer get any pleasure out of those activities.

When someone asks me what is the one thing that would make me happy, the first thought that pops into my mind is:  “I wish I was dead.”  But I have learned not to reply this.  So I just smile and then my interlocutor smiles back and says:  “Just do whatever it is that makes you happy…”

So I have thought of killing myself in order to accelerate the process.  But the next part of the sentence is:  “… as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else.”

Shit.  I have a huge family.  I have a wife.  I have kids.  I know several men who have killed themselves.  Their families still suffer from it today.  So I had to cross this one off of my To Do list.  Still, I realize that I have nonetheless hung myself.  Figuratively speaking.  Like that caterpillar in the picture above.

Society does its best to discourage us from committing suicide, but the mind finds a way.  As if it had been programmed to do so.  The result is what you see in the second phase:  a caterpillar who has hung itself upside down and sealed itself off from the rest of the world.  It WANTS to die.

Doctors, whether physicians or psychiatrists, should know that any human, at one point or another in their life, if mentally sane, will desire to end his life, and that this is not a disease.

So, all I can say is this:  “Thanks for your help, doc.  But you can keep your prescriptions and your pills.  No matter what it says in your books, I know that there is nothing wrong with me.  I am not mentally ill.  I am meta-morphing.”