Friday, April 29, 2011

in limbo/stagnant

i need to figure out what to do. i feel like i am in limbo here, stagnant, like i have no prospect for any more growth while i am here. i can't decide to stay or leave. it is not an easy decision, and it seems like no matter what, at some point here or there i will regret the decision.

if i leave, and there is no new attacks through the time i was supposed to be here, will i feel that i left for no reason, and should have stayed?

if i stay, and there is a new attack, i can always leave, but will i regret the time spent here until then as wasted?

this one ain't gonna be easy.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

what do you think?

the sound of fighter jets fill the sky. i'm walking home from dropping off my laundry, but for a tiny instant i wonder "am i in ashdod, or back at FOB Hit?"

it's been five and a half years since I came back from iraq. in that time, i have worked hard to recover mentally from the trauma i endured. in my second tour in iraq, we took indirect fire from mortars and rockets regularly. it became part of the norm. every now and then the sirens would work, and we'd have a second or two before the impact. but more often than not, they wouldn't work at all. or maybe they'd go off and then no impact.

anyway, once i returned home, i lived with the remnants of my tours in iraq, summed up nicely in a four letter acronym. PTSD. i would be on the lookout for suspicious cars and people. always listening, wondering when the next mortars are going to impact. if i heard a book thud on a floor in the next room, i thought it was a rocket. fire alarm sirens made me think i was at the FOB.

the battles that were raging in my head spilled over into my interactions with others. this meant my family and closest friends endured my verbal assaults. this meant i could make no new friends, and if i was ever in a confrontation, bad things happened.

but i sought treatment. and stuck with it. and five years later, i travelled to israel for a five month program volunteering in ashdod, israel. it was the culmination of my recovery: i made new friends, i learned a new language. i lived on my own for the first time since i returned from iraq. i was whole. i was new. i was me.

the program ended, i returned home, but decided i wanted to do another five months. that the amazing transformation i experienced could be continued. so i returned to israel.

six days after i returned, a rocket was fired from gaza that impacted outside of ashdod. i didn't hear the sirens. i was in a car with a friend on the way to a bar, and as he was walking in the parking lot, i heard him say on the phone to his mom, in hebrew, that he didn't hear anything. the sound of his voice and the insistence on not hearing anything made me immediately guess what happened. there's no reason i should have guessed that. there was no violence or attacks in the first five months, why should my mind have gone there? but it did go there, and worse than that, it was right.

so for the first time since iraq, i was in a place which was in range of enemy fire. the thing is, i was in range for the entire first five months. which i knew in my head, but hadn't really worried about it because it was an abstract idea.

two days later, a bomb goes off near a bus station in jerusalem, the first attack in jerusalem in several years. the next day we were scheduled, and went on a trip to jerusalem. life goes on here in israel they say. we can't let the terrorists win. we have to live our lives.

on the way home from jerusalem, we get news that more rockets have landed in ashdod.

now the peace and tranquility and splendor of israel, of ashdod, of the place where i had come back to being me - it's all gone.

i was supposed to run that friday in the first jerusalem marathon. i didn't.

back in ashdod, at the new school i was teaching at, we held several bomb drills. i can only say that in the event of a rocket attack that impacts the school, it will not be pretty.

but life slowly gets to a sense of new normalcy. when i go running, i wonder what i'll do if i am out on my bike or running and the siren goes off. i wonder if the siren will be loud enough. will there really be forty-five seconds from siren to impact, as we're told? i lower the volume in my headphones when i run, in case i need to hear the siren.

those were the only real conscious effects on me at that time. the other effects were subconscious: out of the blue, weapons started appearing in my dreams. an RPG laying against a wall, having nothing to do with the dream it's in. in another, i'm with my nephew at cub scouts, and in my pocket is a pistol. totally non sequitur to anything else in the dreams. my quality of sleep diminished by more than half right away. but nothing so drastic that i consciously understand the effects right away.

the days go by, and two weeks later, i am in tel aviv for another marathon. i run a personal best, but all the while looking and wondering "if we get attacked, what the fuck do i do?" but we don't get attacked, and i return to ashdod that night in such high spirits, thrilled i am in israel, running races and loving life.

four am that morning, as i am about to close my eyes and sleep, the siren goes off. i jump out of bed immediately, and put some shorts on. i yell to my roommate, who sleeps with earplugs. everyone in the apartment gathers in the bomb shelter.

just an aside, yes, apartments here in israel come with bomb shelters. both encouraging to be prepared, and sad in the necessity of it.

as we gather in the bomb shelter, i hear the impact. the rocket lands south of the city limits. we stay in the bomb shelter for about five minutes or so, and slowly leave, trying to figure out if we can get back to sleep or not.

the answer was no. ten minutes or so later, the siren goes off again. again we gather in the bomb shelter. this time we cannot hear an impact. we wait, and go back to sleep.

so now, twenty-four days into my second five month trip, things are slowly escalating, both in the attacks, and the impact on me. in the first attack, i did not hear the siren, or the impact, and it was not too big of a deal. in the attacks at 4am, i both heard the siren and one of the impacts. what's next in the line of sensory experiences? sight.

one week later, again on friday, i am running in ashdod. i have been running longer and longer, i find that it helps my mind, to work the body, and let the endorphins help the mind ease. it's 4pm or so, only a few hours until sundown and shabbat. i'm running on the extreme eastern side of the city, where to my right there is nothing but sand dunes. on my left, there is a wall that surrounds apartment buildings. so really, nowhere to go if i have to.

i'm running, and i hear in my headphones a tone that seems out of tune with the song that is playing. so i pop one earbud off, and i hear a siren. it doesn't sound like the siren from the other night, so i'm not too sure if it may just be a fire or something. but just as that thought goes in my head, another siren starts and then two more, and i understand that this is a rocket siren. but, like i said, i got nowhere to go. so i pop off the other earbud, and slow down to a jog, but thats about all i can do.

i'm also looking around, scanning for anything i can see. and at the same time, wondering if that forty-five seconds is true.

it's not. there may have been twelve to eighteen seconds between the time i heard the sirens to the impact. the impact that i saw. the impact that i felt. i saw the smoke rise up from the site, and it was real.

up until then, while increasing in its intensity, the attacks weren't quite real to me. but that day, that moment, the line between being back in Iraq, dodging mortars, to running in ashdod, well it got pretty damned blurry.

cars skidded to a stop on the street, the occupants running for cover. kids jumped off their bicycles and ran home. i kept jogging.

i started walking once i saw the smoke, kinda amazed that i just witnessed this attack in my city. the city where i live.

i got to the corner, and there is a woman walking with a bike, to another bike near me. i ask her in hebrew, if it is hers, and she says it's her son's. so i pick up the bike and walk with her for a bit until we see her husband and her son. she thanks me, and they leave.

at the corner, on a bench, sit two old men who are playing chess. it is obvious from their body language and lack of outwards signs of fear, that they are all too used to this and it's not a big deal. i find that disconcerting.

so the day ends without incident. i came home from my run, and used a skill i learned in the Marines to figure out the point-of-impact that i witnessed. it is a skill i never thought i would have to use again. it was way too close to me to be comfortable.

after that, the conscious effects came strong and heavy and haven't abated. my sleep quality is terrible, and i cannot fall asleep easily anymore. my dreams have an undercurrent of violence. i am edgy and irritable, and have taken my anger out on my friends. i am hypervigilant, always listening for sounds of rockets or sirens. i am no longer happy. i am a cranky angry mess.

i resemble myself more as i did two years or more ago, rather than myself as i was when i came back in the beginning of march. and i don't like that. i worked too hard for this to happen. i am angry it happened. i am sad it happened. i want it to stop, i want it to change, i want to be the healthy, happy person i was, not regress into the angry, bitter, messed up person i am now.

it has been thirteen days since the last attack. we've had the week off for vacation and i went to greece. i learned that i can be happy and enjoy myself, knowing that i am not about to see a rocket get dropped on my head. returning to ashdod, that knowledge is gone, because i just don't know if we'll get attacked today or not.

i've been sleeping during the day, and staying up at night. i've been isolating and avoiding things. i have not been able to wake up for work. i have neglected my studies. in all, i have achieved nothing productive or stuck to any sort of schedule since the last attack.

to be fair, i operate better on a regimented schedule, and having the vacation meant no schedule. i plan on taking it easy this weekend, and getting my body back into a rhythm in which i eat right and sleep when i should, etc.

i've been in this place before. i got out of it. i know what to do to get better. the question now is, do i do that here in ashdod? or do i go home?

my doctors say go home. at home, i cannot get worse. here, the next attack could really mess me up psychologically, much more than i am now. and then what do i do? but what if i go home and still feel like this? will i regret running away?

this is my existence.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

gathering opinions

So i spoke with another person at the VA and the opinion is that I should go home. That staying in Israel right now is a continued risk to my mental health. My PTSD symptoms have come back in full force. I have made an appointment with a psychiatrist here, but I am worried that I may get the Israeli opinion of "well, that's the life we live with." Which, while totally valid, doesn't help me. I love Israel, but not enough to lose my sanity again. I have a decision to make. And soon.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

back in the line of fire? hello ashdod.

so i returned to ashdod last night. the vacation in greece was amazing. it taught me something, which is double sided: 1.) while the rockets and shit have fucked me up, i can still be happy and enjoy myself. 2.) i was able to be happy and enjoy myself because i knew that there wasn't a rocket about to land on my head in greece, which is something i cannot say about being here right now in ashdod.

it's been eleven days since the last rocket attacks from gaza. i dread being here. waiting for the next attack. speaking to my israeli friends, everyone accepts that this is the way of life, and if i allow the attacks to change my life, the terrorists achieve their goal. to a point, that makes sense. to a point. for me, it makes no sense. if the attacks continue, or hell, even if there is not another attack, i am still feeling the emotional effects of the attacks, and it has impacted my psychological health. and will continue to impact my psychological health unless the situation is changed.

people at the VA have said I should come home, or at least move out of ashdod, where the threat of fiery death from above is not present. i don't quite know what i am going to do, or how to have that be implemented.

i realize that this post sounds overly dramatic. it sounds as if i am fixated and terrified of rockets falling everywhere and all the time. well, i am. i've had more than my fair share of this. i'm done.

tell me the last time YOU heard a siren signaling incoming? heard the impact of a rocket? saw the smoke from the impact area? assembled with your roommates in a bomb shelter?

posts from greece.

At the airport in Greece. Don't want to return to Israel. I don't think I can make it to august if the rockets and shit continue. It's potentially long-term damaging to me and not worth it. I have a decision to make and soon. I don't know what I'm gonna do.

This week in Greece was amazing. I met and made new friends. Spent time with good people and enjoyed my first real vacation. Definitely gonna have to make vacations a habit.
Just cleared customs and am enjoying a jack and coke while waiting for the plane. I am dreading this return and seriously am not looking forward to being in Ashdod. This has definitely changed my outlook and concept of life in Israel. I'm so not happy.
as clear as I can put it: I do not want to be in israel. I have no desire to return to an area in which my mental safety is threatened. My physical safety I don't care. It's so much easier to recover from a physical wound than a mental one. I think I'm fucked. 

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

this guy's walking down the street, see...

i feel really depressed.

no shit, sherlock. i think there is some significance in writing that sentence. in writing that, i allow myself to clarify what and how i am feeling. to realize that i have been depressed like this before. that i have even been more depressed than this before.

usually, saying that this has happened before has been of no help. because i would just switch my anger to the issue of why does it have to keep happening. but not this time. no. this time, right now, i am engaging the brakes on this. this time, i remember and acknowledge, i am going to be ok.


that is the answer. that is the key. there's no time limit on it. there's no pressure to get my head straight by a certain time. all of that is secondary. the key is that i will be ok.

how do i know this? two ways: i can go back through this blog, and watch the cycles of depression begin and end. or, i could quote Leo McGarry:

This guy’s walking down a street, when he falls in a hole. The walls are so steep he can't get out. A doctor passes by; the guy shouts up, “Hey Doc, can you help me out?” The doctor writes a prescription, throws it down the hole, and moves on. A priest passes by, the guy shouts up “Father, I'm down in this hole, can you help me out?” The priest writes out a prayer, throws it down in the hole, and walks on. Then a friend walks by; “Hey Joe it’s me, can you help me out?” and the friend jumps in the hole. The guy says, “Are you stupid? Now we're both down here.” The friend says, “Yeah, but I’ve been down here before, And I know the way out.”

it's definitely not good

things are definitely not good in my head these days. i'm back to sleeping a lot. i'm back to depression a lot. i'm back to anger a lot. i'm back to sadness a lot. i am definitely in the middle of a serious relapse of my PTSD and all of the friends he brings.

this is not good. i don't know what to do. should i call the VA and try and change my medications? should i just pack up and go home, so that i can be near the doctors who treat me? should i do nothing and try to tough it out? should i just quit everything for a while?

the fact that we're on break is both a good and bad thing. good because i can try and take the time to fix myself. bad in that i have way too much time on my hands to sleep and not actually do anything productive.

things are definitely not good in my head.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

sometimes i need a push

every now and then the mood i'm in, feeling isolated and alienated and different, i need friends who make me come out. who make me interact and experience. who make me realize again that i am not different and not alienated, and my isolation is my choice.


my mood has been all over today. i have no idea how i am feeling right now. i know that i have isolated from my friends lately, and even more so from the group i am in, so right now, i feel alienated. which totally is not the case, and i'm sure that if i tried and wanted to be part of the group right now, i would be. but alas, this is where my head is at.

greece is day after tomorrow. there are some details changing and so combined with my mood, i am really not all that excited about it. but i hope i will get excited and i hope it will be a good trip. if nothing else, i will certainly be in greece on thursday. so that should be good.

physically i also feel fucked up. i don't know what's going on with me.

Sunday, April 17, 2011


i'd like you to look at a link for a moment. go ahead, i'll wait.

i have so much to say about this subject. i don't have it in any order, or any idea right now. but i want you to read the CNN article. i lost a friend of mine to suicide. he was in the army in iraq. he was on the front pages of newspapers and websites, carrying an iraqi baby. he came home, and things didn't work out and he committed suicide.

noone can ever really know why. even if it's explained in a person's own words, suicide is not a logical or rational idea that you can get others to really understand. i can partially understand because we shared the same backgrounds. we shared the same mental disorders and physical injuries sustained in combat. we shared the same experiences of the horrors of war.

you cannot understand these experiences we have unless you were there. and even then, we experience them differently.

veterans' and military suicide is way too high. and we don't know enough about PTSD, TBI and the like to get it to slow or lessen. Clay Hunt knew he had PTSD. he knew it and he sought treatment for it. he did everything right. and still he succumbed in the end.


Rest In Peace, Clay. May God grant your family peace in their grief.

Semper Fidelis.


change is good. sometimes the changes are caused by mistakes. well, hey, at least i'm living my life now while making mistakes. used to be, i didn't make mistakes because i wasn't out there living. so here's to living.

the site has a facelift. we'll see if i like it enough to leave it, or if i will change it.

pesach is coming, the first seder is tomorrow. i have a feeling that we will also receive some more rockets from our friends in gaza. i hope i'm wrong. and if i'm right, i hope noone is hurt.

for all of you out there who read this blog, i want to say thank you. for whatever reason, you continue to read my mindless writings, and it helps me to write more and do more. especially so for all of you who post feedback. i really do appreciate it.

this week is pesach (passover) and easter sunday is a week away. it is a week for holiday and vacation. may you enjoy yours with family, friends and love.

Saturday, April 16, 2011


there are a shit load of issues that have to be dealt with by me. this blog is my forum. it is not meant to injure or hurt other people. but it did. and for that i am sorry. however, i am at a loss for what to do. these are my feelings. not all of them, but some of them. and they are mean. and i am judgmental. i am judgmental because i am jealous.  i judge others harshly if they don't live up to my standards, when i rarely live up to my standards. i lash out when i am hurt because i have yet to fully realize how to communicate emotional feelings for someone. 

i am me. and i need help. and i am sorry to the people i have hurt.

Friday, April 15, 2011


i've realized the whole catastrophe that occurred this weekend was me. i mean, don't get me wrong, i knew i made the horrendous mistake i made soon after i made it. but the issue comes down to not what i write about, but who.

this is supposed to be a tool to help me recover. and i have forgotten a few things recently about my recovery. first off, it is MY recovery. so i have to be in charge and responsible for the things that I do. I have to monitor the reactions and actions that I take. the feelings and emotions I have. I cannot read others minds. I cannot predict others actions.

I have to own the fact that I expected something to happen and when it didn't i acted like the verbally abusive shithead i used to be. i should have recognized that my expectations were not realistic in light of things i did or did not say or do. i should have recognized that while disappointed and hurt, none of these feelings i had were given to me by someone maliciously. noone meant to hurt me.

there's a post quite similar to this a couple of months back. i'm too lazy to find it now. its somewhere around december or january. but in a similar circumstance, i didn't express my feelings and had unrealistic expectations, and when reality actually happened, i was quite the fool. obviously i have yet to learn this lesson.

but i hope to. there's lyrics to a song that i have been listening to a lot lately. it's appropriate

Cause I can't wait to figure out what's wrong with me 

So I can say that this is the way that I used to be

Thursday, April 14, 2011

more randomness from golan

Anytime I have these issues with girls I feel like a young teenager. I feel like writing it down shows me to be an utterly inexperienced man in the area of relationships. And I feel that when I write it here it changes the tenor of the writing from a 30 year old combat veteran with PTSD and TBI to the ramblings of a high school girl. This is no good.

I don't like taking Xanax. I feel so sluggish and out of it. But lately if I don't take it I'm so irritable and angry and on edge. I think I'm fucked up pretty badly.  

Sociality. Lack thereof. Being a good guy who people respect and like. Or being a guy that girls want. It is not difficult to figure out I am not the second description. 

At times like these in my recovery I feel so worthless but somewhere deep down is a voice that says that working on me is more important than liking a girl who may or may not be worth it. (on a side note, for both of these girls I have been interested in, female friends of mine whose opinions I seek and respect and admire have all told me similar things about each girl as it was occurring. That is, "this girl is not worth it." Either I deserve better or she doesn't deserve me.

While that may be a comfort, it doesn't make it nice or easy to change my feelings (whatever they are) towards them. So where does this leave me? 

It leaves me in a hole. It leaves me nowhere. I dont have a toolkit or coping mechanism for this aspect of my recovery. 

I don't know what to do. Plus I am now taking a shitload of Xanax per day as prescribed and that zombie feeling from years ago is returning in force. I must call my doctor and see about an adjustment in some godforsaken time in which he is available and I am awake what with the 7 hour difference.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011


I mean I am sad and disappointed and angry but I don't think rejected is appropriate because I don't know if she even knew I was interested in her.

I was going to tell her tonight but she wasn't sober and the situation wasn't ideal.

Which totally sucks. I like her. But I don't know how to make a move and someone else made a move with her and it's on and I'm here writing on this fucking blog.

I'm so not happy and I don't know what to do. I think she is a really cool interesting funny beautiful smart girl.

I feel like I am not worth anything. Not worth her time or attention and that's just a shitty feeling.

Monday, April 11, 2011

i shouldn't have to...

i called the united states today. i called my doctor at the VA hospital, and asked her to refill my prescription for alprazolam (xanax). I have Panic and Anxiety Disorder, along with my Major Depressive Disorder and my Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, which doesn't even mention the Traumatic Brain Injury. Anyway, in dealing with my anxiety, I was prescribed xanax. For a long time I took some sort of anti-anxiety medication every day. For more than a year now, I have not had the need to take anything daily. In fact, up until March 22, I had taken it no more than five times in over a year, and only once during my first five months in Israel.

On March 22, rockets were fired from Gaza (which isn't a new development, but that's another story soon) which had the range and impact to change my swell little life here in Ashdod. So the sirens went off here - which I didn't hear because I was in a car. But it brings right back to the mind the experiences of being mortared daily in Iraq, and the kind of daily life that came with that. The next day, a bom went off outside of a bus stop in Jerusalem, killing one woman and injuring more than 30 others. I was scheduled to run the marathon in Jerusalem two days later. I did not. For many reasons, but not the least was a state of anxiety.

I didn't have an immediate conscious reaction to the attacks. I mean, I've done this before, so it's not a new idea. My thought process was not changed too much initially. At least not that I'd realized. But as the days progressed, consciously the changes were focused on my preparedness. By this I mean, I now kept a cell phone on me when I ran. I lowered the volume on my headphones, in case the sirens went off, I would be able to hear them. I was more aware of where I was, and what my surroundings were. To this I mean, where would I go in the event of a rocket attack? Do I know enough hebrew to tell someone to give me a shirt for a bandage, or tell them I have a brain injury?

My subconscious reaction was immediate, but the conscious realization was delayed. Immediately after, the quality of my sleep plummeted, and the duration necessary to feel good was tripled. It also took much longer to fall asleep. When I awoke, I remembered parts of dreams. All of a sudden, weapons were appearing in dreams. In one, having nothing to do with anything else going on, an RPG was leaning against a wall. In fact, that is really the only detail of the dream I can recall. In another, I was wearing my Boy Scout uniform and with the scouts, and in my pocket was a pistol. With the lack of sleep and the disconcerting dreams, came a significant increase in irritability and ease of anger. My optimism I had worked so hard to nurture and believe had vanished, like smoke from a candle being blown out.

I went through quite a harsh depressive episode. But, like all things, This Too Shall Pass. And it did.

On Friday morning, April 8th, I ran in the Tel Aviv Marathon. I ran the second race of my life, another 10km run. I arrived the night before, and stayed in a hostel close to the starting line. I went with three girls, two of which I had run in Ein Gedi with. We woke early on race day, and slowly made our way to
the starting line. The weather was amazing. There were close to 20,000 participants in the events. My goal was simple: don't walk. Not run fast. Not beat my time. Simply don't walk. Be mentally stronger than I was, and control what I would do physically. It was amazing. I ran. I ran well. I felt amazing. I set a personal record by improving my time by 14 minutes and 51 seconds. We had an amazing time in the race, we had a great meal afterwards, and then returned to Ashdod. The rest of the day was good. At around 345am or so, I had just finished arranging everything in my bed, and was about to put my head on my pillow and close out one of the best days I have ever had. Then the siren went off.

I jumped out of bed. I yelled to my roommate who was sleeping. He wears earplugs to sleep, so I had to yell twice more to wake him up. I was already putting my sweats on and getting up. We gathered in the bomb shelter, and I called around to make sure others were up and safe. We heard an explosion. It was not loud and it was not close, but it was an explosion. Fifteen or so minutes later, we were all back in our rooms, trying to chill out, and get to bed. Then the siren went off again. Didn't we just do this? What the fuck is going on?

Over the weekend, there were over 100 separate attacks. Be it rockets, mortars, RPGs.

I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I have Panic and Anxiety Disorder. I have Major Depressive Disorder. I have a Traumatic Brain Injury. I worked my ass off over the last 5+ years to recover and be able to come to Israel and become whole again.

I shouldn't have to be ripped apart again. I shouldn't have to slide back into a depression so deep there is no light. I shouldn't have anxiety so terrible that my heart rate is always high and I am always sweating. I shouldn't have to dream about FOB Hit and the Haditha Dam and friends who never made it home and sirens in the night.

I shouldn't have to.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

i've never taken any meds for my head in my life, *insert laugh here*

that's something i heard today. as i sit here, i'm less reactive as i was when i first heard it, but i didn't open my mouth and address this issue with the person who spoke it. giving them the benefit of the doubt, i analyzed my reaction to it and realized a couple of things:

1. i take meds for my head. i have for most of my adult life. i also believe in them and their necessity and the fact that you are reading the words that i am writing is proof that they work. that being the case, i believe that i attributed motive to the comment i heard, which was not spoken.

2. in my head, i reacted to the statement "i've never taken meds for my head in my life, because they don't work, and i don't need them, and people who do need them are weak." this is definitely not the statement that i heard. and so my mind reacted defensively, but i was able to say, "whoah, boy. put the guns down. think about what's got you hot right now."

3. i thought about what made me angry at that point and was forced to recognize that i was already angry, both at said person, and at some events throughout the day. which brings me to what i have experienced today.....

which i will bring to you in a post to be written later tonight. probably before i goto bed.

Sunday, April 3, 2011

down in a hole

yeah, my mind is in a bad place right now. it's weird. on the one hand, i can objectively view my thought process, and say 'well, it's a normal phase of your mind going through a depressive episode.' on the other hand, i'm fucking in the depressive episode, and things look absolutely dire. like there is no good in the world and my life is not worth a shit.

i wouldn't wish this on anyone

had a bad day again

actually the day's not even half over. but i couldn't get out of bed today and have yet to do anything productive. times like this remind me of the four and a half years in which my life was like this. i am not doing the correct things to take care of myself, like i have written before, and therefore i am on a slow downward slope that at any moment could drop me off a cliff. i need to fix this and soon, or else i could see myself losing everything i gained so far.

Saturday, April 2, 2011

sigh no more

emotions. i have difficulties with them. my difficulties are exacerbated by my social insecurity so times like now, i have no idea what i feel, or why i feel it.

i don't know how to even write what i am thinking. i am so ignorant and inexperienced in the feeling of liking a girl, that when i do, i am pretty scatter-brained most of the time. i don't know what i should do. i don't know what i feel. i know that the simple admission of "i think i like this girl" is a huge step. last time i felt that way, things got pretty screwed up with the guy who was my best friend here. that's a whole nother story, but it was the same thought process at the time. do i like her? how much do i like her? what do i do? what don't i do? does she like me? should i call? now, that right there, that's the thoughts i had as a young kid, and i am amazed that at 30, i still have this insecurity and basic fear of not being with someone.

so the situation - i was going to write problem, but this really is a life experience, rather than problem - is this. i think i like a girl. but i really have no clue what emotion it entails. do i like her as a friend only? or is it more? and if i figured that out, i still would really have no clue what to do after that. it's an uncomfortable feeling, but as i reach back into my memory where i would do nothing but sleep all day and never leave my room, not interact or meet anyone, i'd much rather have this uncomfortable feeling. i'll get it figured out. i'll never get it perfect. i wouldn't want to. but i'm gonna get better with it.