hemmingway syndrome
August 01, 2003 � 4:13 p.m.

Mood-surreal

Breakdown-Melissa Etheridge

I got a rock. A Charlie Brown Halloween

Recurring thoughts-Thank God I have Jenny and Why can't I get a fucking grip, already?

A classic "What the Fuck?!?!" moment- Silently crying uncontrollably all day at work and then when I get home I just stop and actually start to feel giddy.

WHAT

THE

FUCK

IS

THAT?!?!

********************************************

I really do believe I am in the throughs of a breakdown.

I know I have a tendancy to become depressed sometimes, but this...this is beyond depression. This is depression cubed. I think I have wandered out of my world of depression and into the wonderful realm of delirium.

All of the time I have these wacked out thoughts and images floating around in my head that make me actually stop whatever the hell I'm doing and say out loud to nobody "What the fuck was that?" or "What the fuck am I thinking?" and especially, more often then not, I mumble my personal fave "What the fuck is wrong with me?"

Now, I hear it's not a bad thing to talk to yourself out loud. I have even read that doctors recommend it so you can talk your way through a problem. What is bad, however, is if you talk to yourself out loud, ask yourself questions, and then ANSWER or argue with yourself. That's technically when you're crazy. I haven't quite made it to that plateau yet. So I'm haven't gone COMPLETELY round the bend yet...but I do know the directions on how to get there.

Anyone up for a road trip?!?!

And I am so fricking moody all of the time. I am constantly drifting from manic states of giddiness to hysterics to utter depression in like 0-60 seconds. I feel crazy most of the time. I feel like I am losing a grip on my life...on reality. I am trapped in a fantasy plane of what never was and what will never be. And it's driving me crazy.

Worse part is...I don't know why.

I would like to say it's because of Cowboy leaving me and fucking me over like he did, but that's not it. I think it was a major contributor, yes...more than likely the focal catalyst that brought everything else to a head, yes...but if I really do lose it and have to check into a padded room, then no...it's not because of him.

It's because I just can't stand pretending everything is okay anymore.

I'm sick of lying to myself and everybody else.

I'm not fine. I don't think I've ever been fine.

Now all those years of denial are coming to fruition and my thoughts and needs are no longer happy with hanging out in the background and I don't know what to do.

I, the problematic planner, do not know what to do.

Besides get pissy drunk every night and fall into sleepless dreams after 5 in the morning so I can wake up and delude myself into thinking eveything is ok.

Everything will be ok...it has to be.

I take comfort in knowing that most of the talented geniuses in history were fucking nut jobs in one way or another, and they were able to create theories and beauties that changed the world...after they were dead.

As egotistical as it may sound, I do consider myself to be a "troubled genius", as I was so labled by teachers and parents all through high school.

I just hope I don't have to die in order to get any recognition.

That would suck.

Yes, that would suck very much.