Hello to you stranger,
primarily my first follower and those who skimmed or read through the whole thing.
I have to clarify now that it is too late. I wildly underestimated the connectivity and publicity of the internet, more precise wordpress. However that was possible. My intention with this blog was to inform, those I mistreat, judge or hate gratuitously for whatever reason I can find, about my state of mind and that possible animosities are not born out of rational or sophisticated reasons but powerlessness. Now my deficiency is open for gloating and discussion. Now I am and will stay committed to this story of my everyday-life.
I hate social stigmas and more so when I have suffer under the regime of one. Simply doesn’t help in any way. You wanna argue against me and my condition? Come prepared and with enough tissues for blood and tears. Because it is not my social pressure that granted the loss of many good, but depressive human beings. It is the social pressure that does. I want to talk about my last song and about the reason I write. Let’s see how far this goes.
The single most important thing is: I write to not forget. My long-term memory seem to be intact or still useful as it always was. My short-term uselessness as I like to call it, is that of a goldfish: “Oh, nice bowl… SHIT I AM TRAPPED!!! Oh, nice bowl…”
You get where this is heading. That is no new development, a constant handicap, but one I care little about. It was and is adjuvant.
Not in school. One of my oldest, no my oldest friend could confirm, if he could recall. But he has in a reflective manner similar shortcomings although the smartest idiot I have ever seen. I stopped making notes in third grade and successively finished the progress of taking none at all in eighth. Nothing was written down, that I didn’t want to remember.
They said:”You need to! It helps you remember.”
I thought:”I know! Could that be the main problem?”
One could argue, that I didn’t need to be in school after ninth grade. But fuck! Work is no suitable alternative, if you’re lazy bones are alike those of… Lazybones. Sometimes I really love my dumb brain. Most would have been even more disappointed in me if I had not graduated at all. It’s always great to mention afterwards, that it was at any moment possible to quit. How good I would graduate was no question to me. How much it would bore and how much effort I would have to put into it, more of a relevant one to me. The answers not surprising:
1. There is no boredom more intolerable then a monotonous voice, preaching about your very favorite topic. You want to listen, you force yourself. This is the thing you like! You want to know this! You want to remember! Write it down! I can’t. His conclusions nonsense! Even I know this is outdated. I am not allowed to state facts? This makes no sense. You want examples? I don’t remember. One could say that disproves, one could also say it proves. You are to judge.
Listen, Idiot! Listen! The mantra of my educational career.
2. None at all. I started one of those addictive browser games in my final year, because everybody else was busy studying and had no time to spare for hanging out and having the usual fun. I Learned three hours not a day like others, the night before my oral reevaluation in Biology, because I fail, like a nerd at sports, in applied sciences. Except evolutionary theory. That got me out of my lethargy for a short-time. But again, I didn’t had to write down the secret ingredients of that delicious soup. Not that I’m a genius but I passed proud, with flying flags and it was a really, really short phyrric victory.
That would bring me to universities. But the fucked up way universities are in Germany now is unbearable. Here the land of poets and thinkers and Humboldt the universities are degraded to a state of repetition and evaluation. It is dumb, inefficient, not to the purpose of their students but economical demands. You like it? It could be better. Free to anyone’s way of learning. Well I left not soon. But not one day too early. In fact several to late.
I will not let anyone decide what I have to store and what not! That will be a future, cultural conflict or constantly is. I hope majorities get aware of that.
But I should not forget my recent ways and strains of thought in the future and I fear I might. I don’t want to someday look back and define these as great and fun times. I glorify myself so inherent, it’s denial per definition. Part of the condition or not.
I will stop here, because I want to lay blame and have a feeling that I am in no position to do that. I mentioned that in the previous, now open letter: I have a strong feeling of superiority to anyone. You could have won nobel prizes in physics or chemistry, my intellectual kryptonite. I will find a way to minimize your character to rudimentary flaws and will beat you with it, until you loose your precious sanity and start to rip your hair out. The first time someone did that in front of me, I was paralyzed. Even my then girl-friend doing so came with a frivolous satisfaction. Thanks dad for teaching me! If my surrounding in constant battle for the acceptance of reality are true to themselves, they would agree that this at least was the case. I am not the only one in denial. Things change. I did. I hope. But in a way I felt secure through the knowledge that, if circumstances demanded it, I could defend myself against hostile contacts. I wish I had that feeling again. But the price is high. I can’t tell if too high. This will be my own decision. The odds are not in favor of dehumanization, I would put my money elsewhere. Don’t know real estate seems safe.
For the first time in my life I experienced and still live through, something similar. I had absolutely no shield against any emotion, the second my downfall started. When attacked on a personal level, an avalanche of grief, self-hatred and seclusion overwhelmed my rationality and drove me to the brink of collapse. These events affect and weaken me for weeks up to months.
My therapist thankfully gave me tools to cage them if necessary. So I would be able to choose if and when I let those avalanches loose. To do that in therapy sessions exclusively!
Very few are able to force me to feel like this. I know two and I know more than two who want that to be the case. You are morons. Sorry, but it is not possible for you to trigger that against my will. I am able to gift this. I can let someone have an innate feeling of moral high ground now. I learned that and I want to get better in letting others have victories over me they need. Right now it has a devastating effect on me and my fickle state. Afterwards you feel good about yourself, you feel strong and powerful and you think you have taught me a valuable lesson. I might not be as thankful as you think is the case. I believe I have an upstream right now and I am prepared to deal with someone making my emotions boil over. These emotions are not caused by you and have nothing to do with our quarrel. You are so dear to me, that I let you see me in my weakest hours.
It is not helpful. I don’t like to be deterministic, but I am. There will be the consequences for setting my positive development back. There will be no amnesty or absolution any more. You chose to be with me, you had more than one possibility to quit. Now I will held you accountable. Action forces reaction and I am not the letting-go-type. I hold and nurture grudges against everyone necessary. You could call it Jonas Law of Continuity. But I am capricious and easily distracted, take out of it, what you need to feel comfortable.
I wanted to mention the last song I recorded. I thought long and hard if I should explain to you or to myself the thing I would like to call someday my art. The last track is purely about myself. So yes, I can talk about it. And here it is.
Most of them are a monument to my empathic or deductive abilities, the glory of my love or rejection of its aspiration. Glory and rejection is the main theme of my love and love life. It is something that I do not fully grasp or am willing to yet lay bare. I still love like a five-year-old: unconditionally, unwillingly, everlasting (I know! It is something I don’t believe in. But experience can’t be denied entirely). I love absolute and totally incompetent. I won’t explain deeper in the near future or maybe ever. But I would like to someday to be able to do so. I rigorously defined the requirements .
This song had to be recorded in its faultiness and fragmentariness. My voice kinda cracked after one month of singing, shouting, screaming and now I know (thanks to Gwyn) no structure in breathing at all. But it needed to be in that condition at least one last time. All the things I recorded are a huge embarrassment to me. I know they lack quality in mixing as well as musical ability. I am fully aware of that. Along the way I realized my own potential and redundancy of affirmation. I love and need my own music and I am proud of it despite it’s unready appearance.
Despite that positive development, I am still scared, really scared of going outside. It’s a vague fear, nonetheless a fear powerful enough to paralyze. I try to express not only that, but my disturbances as well. I hear things. I see things. For you these are ephemeral shadows passing in the periphery of your eyes. For me those are haunting ghosts. It takes time to realize no one is following or menacing me. It would be a relieve to have something that proofs the contrary. It would grant legitimacy to my anxieties. I am for a long time now in a state of mind, to which being mental would be preferable to . The realization of my heads daunting phantasy, is the Phantom Menace A huge disappointment and an urge to get more screen-time with a cute princess.
One last thing. I will do this alone, with my own decisions and mistakes. I will fall over and over again. I know because I fell over and over again. Should you read this in the beginning of your realization of depression. You will fall and it you will stay down oftentimes. Your efforts are mostly misguided by your own corrupt feelings. Accept that and then follow them. They might not lead you to your goal, but where you need to go. This might be a thing others don’t like or even want to protect you from. But even in death is grace and truth. This may sound harsh, but suicide is a solution. It is the final cry for help.
You don’t understand? You will, if food gets no taste. You will, when drugs cease to alter your view on the outside world. You will, if nothing is able to bring joy to your world. You will, if not one person you loved once is able to move you in one direction or the other. I am no advocate, but I prefer being an understanding, holding hand than a snitch. Good thing I have no talent in medicine. I would have become the most successful angel of death.
In general, what you have is treatable and a disease of your brain not a matter of inevitability and you should know that your head lies to yourself on a regular basis. If you choose the suicide path, don’t use a train or you might be wherever you choose to go accompanied by someone you’ll never knew but who witnessed your most private moment piece by piece.
I chose three persons to be my warning signs. These three don’t know each other well if at all and they don’t know they are the chosen ones. That should be enough for everyone.
Next time we talk more about the great ass under and the lazy one in my bed.
Thanks for spending some of your leisure and listening to my babbling in sorrow. It helps to not be alone in thought and word.