REFLECTION FROM NOVEMBER 21ST, 2007**
RE: LIFE, ANGER AND MEANING IN THIS WORLD
WRITTEN – 11/21/2007 @ AGE 26
–Mixed Manic/Depressive State Follows with Colorful Language–
I’m finding out lately that I’m an immensely angry person. I’m angry because I have all these thoughts flowing in my head, most of which I cannot even express because I have not yet the words with which to give them expression.
I’m angry that I’ve been born with mental illness and I’m angry because mental “illness” is not yet recognized as a physical illness, but rather still carries the stigmatization that I’m an f’ing loon. I’m angry because I feel like an f’ing loon, and I’m angry that the reason I feel like an f’ing loon is because I am so f’ing aware of the suffering in the world and I do not have the money or the wherewithal or the indifference to either not see it, to choose not to see it, or to just not care either way.
I’m angry that I care and that caring means that I get hurt. I’m angry that in order to maintain a soft, good heart I have to not only allow others to hurt my heart, but also forgive them for it. I’m angry that I somehow was taught to “hang in there” because things will get better, sitting here having found that alas, things still have yet to get there. I’m angry that I have to kill myself or perpetually hope that things will get better when I have not any evidence to support such hopeful thought. I’m furious that some people have it easier than others, even though I suspect more in my heart that everyone in the end has it better sometimes than others, and worse sometimes than everyone else.
I’m so fucking angry and the worst part is that I feel I have no one to turn to, no one who understands me. People keep saying just trudge on, carry on and things will get better, but they don’t see my pain and they certainly don’t feel it. But what the hell do I know?
I’m angry because I keep wanting to attribute things to others when I have no right, but I want to do so anyways because I live in a world where it’s done all the time. I’m angry that I’m 26 years old and living at home with my parents and thought somehow I’d be so much further ahead by now. And I’m angry that somehow I know in my heart that I am so much further ahead right now, and that the real problem is that I just cannot yet see that I am. I’m angry because I’ve tried so hard and put so much time and effort in, and still, still yet I cannot seem to get my life the way that I want it.
I’m angry that I’m looked at as a coward if I don’t act like I know everything, and yet at the same time the more I learn, the more I keep realizing how much I do not know. I’m angry because I don’t want to act like I know something when I do not know it, but at the same time, find myself presently in a situation where I need to act so anyways. I’m angry that I cannot just admit that I don’t know something and go figure it out and then return to the issue. I’m angry that what is expected of me is to just trudge along thinking I know what I’m talking about all the time, knowing better, that I’d only find out later I’ve built myself a house out of cards.
Boy I love writing, I feel so much better now! I have to remember to write when I’m feeling shitty. I have to remember to write when I’m feeling shitty because there are many ways to deal with feelings, and infinite ways to deal destructively with feelings, but for me, writing works, and it is constructive. I want to live a constructive and honest life because that adds substance to a life that is otherwise without meaning. And I truly believe at this moment that my life is without meaning unless I venture to give it some. I know that my life is relatively, relatively meaningless, like ants marching, we march around thinking we are so damn important, and really in the end I think much of it, most of it I’d dare say, is plain and simple without meaning. But I’ve found that my life is not worth living without my giving it meaning, and for whatever reason, writing what I feel is a method of affecting said growth.
My boss introduced me as his “associate” today and said I recently finished law school and will shortly be taking the bar exam and it made me proud. Those moments are few and far in between at the moment, for what have I to show for all my education at the moment but loans? Not a whole lot. But I will continue to hope that those moments will increase because without hope I’m back to wanting to kill myself, and what fun is thinking about suicide if you can’t just get it done and over with already, my friend? Tell me what good.
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