The Police – Canary in a Coalmine
Keeping a low profile. I know that semi isolating myself at home is a good way to lose friends and sink to the lowest part of the river. Really though, is it being lazy or is it just depression? I’ve tried very hard before to get myself out of the depression but it usually requires another person who is motivated in helping me by being involved with me and calling and checking up on me. People who recommend that as a support in someone’s life don’t realize how hard it is to find someone else with that kind of time and energy and interest. I’m not complaining. I’m just very tired. It’s the dragging part of depression that holds my head underwater so my thinking, vision and point of view are distorted. Starting any new year is usually 10 times the effort that it is for most anyone else.
The holidays don’t help. I hate to admit it but a schedule keeps me grounded and makes my life managable. Today I went to work but was not paid. I went because it is one place that I find solace and fellowship and a real community that I am comfortable with. And that is important to “recovery” (even though I think recovery is a bogus word to use for people with mental illnesses.) I don’t think I’m in recovery. I believe I am in maintenance. Maintenance allows for f^ck ups and adjustments and sickness periods and paradox exploring and paradigm breaking. Recovery assumes a return to society as it is made for normal people. Maintenance is a personal way of allowing for self knowledge and discarding the “normal” rules that seem to be what everyone wants everybody to adhere to but usually are the suppressing gags for people who haven’t had “normal” lives or thought processes. It’s not for me. Recovery.
I’ve spent most of my life caring so much about normal reality and trying to conform to it that I’ve wasted my talent and time. I have been successful in mostly masking that I am seriously abnormal compared to many people. I’m functional enough and have been observant enough to compare myself with normal people. I’ve become good at imitating normal behavior. And that’s why I look very lazy to most people. When the day is done I’m exhausted by the acting and second guessing and the mind reading and posing that goes into each day that I spend with people, strangers, acquaintances and loved ones alike.
The real kicker is that if everything were to all of a sudden turn around to advantage the dispossessed and I was part of the ruling class and I could relax I would probably have to go into the hospital for a long period of time. I am so used to dealing with life in this way that if I didn’t have to deal with life like this on a 24 hour basis I would not know what to do with myself and I would question reality and believe that I had lost touch with the “real” world.
I know when I joined OASIS I had a long period of hypomania which was a direct response to the atmosphere of the place and the people. I didn’t know how to act around people who weren’t conditioned to “normal”. My anxiety gave me energy and my brain turned on the charm. All the clever trivia came out as knowledge and I flitted from idea to person to task. I look industrious when I am actually ready to blow apart with fear and tension. Nervous energy exuded and was taken as friendliness and intellectual curiosity. I learned the wonderful trick of misdirection when I became an adult. If you want someone to not really pay close attention to you and you can hold yourself in and not let out nervous tics you can pose as someone who really gives a damn while at the same time save face by not letting someone get to know you well. You ask the other person questions about themselves. You listen well enough to get details so that the following questions let them know that you actually listened to them. You look into their eyes but only so long so that they don’t think you’re a potential stalker. And you give out soothing sounds that imitate the agreement and curiosity sounds most people make when they are empathically listening to a story that they understand and agree with. Also try to remember key details so that you might be able to associate them with the story they told you and the points they think are important. It helps in the future when it comes to networking and connections.
Most people I forget. Their faces, their stories, their ideas, whether or not they like me and whether or not I liked them unless my reaction or their reactions were vivid like painful colors or orgasmic tastes. People are really things in this world not to be taken seriously unless they do bodily damage or threaten my life or my loved ones. The people I love are not hoi polloi but souls that inhabit my head. They are the essences that guide me through life so I don’t pull the plug and disappear. Without them there is no reason to be here. Life is worthless anyway and there is no reason to senseless pain without some kind of payoff. I won’t be famous. I won’t be acknowledged. I won’t be making a difference here and I know this. I may be a vessel but I am not a guru. Nothing I say or do is unique no matter what the pithy expressions impart on your facebook wall.
And anyway I’m writing this because my son is going to see his father my ex and I am trying to get that toxic stench out of my mind.