What Does It Feel Like?

If you don't have anxiety or depression or that horrible little swirly cone that combines the two...congratulations. You're at least not quite as bad as I am. If you do...you know exactly how I'm going to describe it.

It happens randomly. Or, perhaps more specifically, it intensifies and shows itself randomly, as opposed to happening, since it's always there, if not full on.

You could be watching YouTube videos of men assaulting each other over Minecraft or piglets running down stairs to get to bowls of oatmeal and laughing and genuinely feeling pretty good...and it hits.

You don't care anymore. You don't want to watch videos anymore. You don't want to play video games. You don't want to work out. You don't want to do homework. You don't want to write. You don't want to read. You don't even want to jack off and get those endorphins going just a little. You don't know what you want to do...because you don't know what you want.

It's almost like those horror movies where they have that mist and it just sneaks in under the door and WHAM, it's on top of you faster than a Ferrari on methamphetamines. It's a fog and it just curls around you and your brain and heart and you just...don't give a shit. At all. About anything. You don't care about what you're eating. You sure as hell don't care about what you're drinking. You don't want to talk to anyone while at the same time feel this incredible urge to talk to SOMEONE. Anyone.

The thought of holding a conversation exhausts you but you feel that ache to be close to someone all the same. You get out of your chair and all you do is wander the room aimlessly, trying to focus on something but the focus won't come.

God forbid you're actually out in public. Stop me if this sounds familiar. You're around people. You're speaking to them. You're laughing and joking and listening and contributing...but it's not you. The 'you' that is there is not the real you. It's a simulacrum of you. It's the 'you' that you think should be there but you aren't actually there. You are watching 'you' interact, you are hearing and thinking 'your' thoughts but they don't feel like yours. You are inside your own head, watching 'you' live your life. But somehow...that's okay. Some way, it feels like you're winning because the 'you' that everyone sees is the 'you' that you want to be. Yet it's empty.

Empty. Emptiness. That's a good way to put it. Well done, me. Thank you, me. I thought it was good too.

It's being empty. It's having all those messy trappings of being human being turned into private files on that computer in your head. The experiences you have count but...no, they really don't. You aren't enjoying them, or at least you aren't to the extent you should be. The rapport you feel feels like it's false, even if it's not. You just can't get past the idea that you aren't SUPPOSED to function around people.

That's the depression talking. Mr. Anxiety kicks in when you aren't quite that far down, but are a lot more tenuous.

He takes over when you knock on the wrong door and accidentally interrupt someone and that thought that you disrupted someone's life makes you want to curl up and do nothing.

He takes over when you see a pretty girl and want desperately to talk to her, to get to know her, to see if she may be the one for you...but the thought of interrupting her, of taking time of hers away from her, of (holy shit no) actually taking the risk to ask her out...the thought of being REJECTED when you already are down on yourself as is...it paralyzes you.

The idea of going up to a stranger and introducing yourself to maybe make a new friend is crippling.

Forget going to a bar or a club. By yourself? Are you kidding? You'll look like a desperate idiot. And, really, don't you come off that way anyways?

You see what I mean? One side of the coin strips away the energy of life, the other transforms it into preventing all action. Either way, nothing gets done.

Congratulations. Your brain is a teamster's office. (Burn).

What IS Laughing At Grappling?

I'm sure it's confusing you a whole lot. Don't worry. That'll happen more than you think. Let me explain.

Laughing at grappling is just that: laughing at how and why and what I experience and deal with.

Laughing at grappling means that a person handles problems with humor whenever possible.

Laughing at grappling means that something can be dark or horrible...something can be twisted or wrong...something could be offensive or hurtful or saddening...but it can be laughed at or joked about.

Laughing at grappling means that you know that something is wrong, that something isn't quite clicking the way it's meant to and the only way you can deal with it is by cracking wise.

Laughing at grappling means that you try to strike the balance between taking yourself seriously and taking nothing seriously.

Laughing at grappling means that every single neuron in your brain could be telling you to shut up, shut down, break down, and reset...but you say "no" and laugh about a talent agent (if you know what that means, congrats - you are much cooler than I thought).

Laughing at grappling means that you can be crying inside but smiling outside.

Laughing at grappling does NOT mean that everything is okay.

It does NOT mean that you're not hurting.

It does NOT mean that your heart isn't tearing or your brain isn't telling you to just sleep or you're not gritting your teeth to make it through the day.

It does NOT mean that you're happy.

It means that you are telling a joke to cope.

Laughing at grappling means that you are like me. God help you.

New Beginnings

The first post of a new blog is always interesting. It holds so much promise to either sink or swim, depending on the competency of the writer, the audience that he or she is going for, and just plain old dumb luck sometimes.

So, with that being said, here's who I am. Or...at least some of who I am. I can't be encapsulated in just one blog post or even many. I'm complex and...okay, getting off track. Here's some of who I am.

I am a twenty-five (very close to twenty-six oh no please not yet) year old graduate student.

I am supposed to be in the prime of my life and fucking up a storm. Oh, sorry. I should have warned you. Gonna be some cursing here. Gonna probably be a lot of cursing here some days. Fair after the fact warning. Mea culpa.

Anyways, I am supposed to be in the prime of my life and fucking up a storm. I am not. I am a virgin.

I am a Christian and a Republican but I promise that I'm not all that big of a dick. Well...I can be but not for those reasons.

I am a bit overweight but I'm trying to work out to get rid of it. Trying being the operative word because sometimes beer just tastes too damn good.

I have issues with anxiety and depression.

I get nervous around large groups of people that I don't know and become very self-conscious.

I have days where even getting out of bed is something akin to masochism.

I have moments where I loathe who I am and where I question what I do, when I do it, and everything about my life.

I have moments where I can feel nothing but a gray fog around myself and can't bring myself to care about anything.

I have had moments where I've considered suicide but have only once actually put real thought into it and that was a long time ago.

I have a tremendous lack of self-confidence which is counteracted by some real arrogance about the things I actually am good at.

I am exceedingly cautious about even entertaining the idea of dating, yet I absolutely long to be with someone, even though attractive women make me more anxious than I usually am.

I have issues with how relationships have gone in the past and yes, I'm sure I'll get into those at some point here.

I cope as best I can with the things swirling around in my head by making jokes. A lot of jokes. And occasionally therapy. No drugs yet but that's not off the table.

Scared yet? Yeah, I figured. But this is important to me. It's important for me to get this out there, to not let it just turn inward and leave me thinking.

So, if you've gotten this far, I'm sure you're asking yourself three things:

1) Why is this guy putting all this out there?

2) Why is his icon a wallaby or kangaroo looking quizzically at a pair of grayscale dots?

3) Why am I still reading?

To answer,

1) Because I'm not ashamed of who I am. I'm not ashamed of admitting that there is some stuff going on upstairs that needs work. Plus I'm probably a narcissist and it's fun to have people paying attention to me.

But I'm sure you want to know why not just talk to a therapist and leave it there. And I plan to. But the Internet is this sometimes okay place where you can shout things into a swirling morass and not get judged. More cannot hurt.

2) Because it's funny to me. And because it's some metaphor or shit like that, I guess.

3) Because you are awesome.

What is this blog going to be about, you ask? (I know you aren't really asking.)

It's going to be about me and how I am feeling on a particular day, why I am, what my thoughts are, how I'm dealing with it. It's going to be a place where, hopefully, other people can recognize aspects of themselves and go from there. But mostly, it's going to be about my refusal to just hide parts of myself that I don't like. I don't care if nobody reads this or fifty million people read it (okay, fifty million would be rad, but come on). This is me.

Step right up, ladies, gents, and ladygents (or gentleladies). The ride is about to begin.