crawling towards christmas

i've made no secret over the past couple of weeks that i'm really struggling this holiday season. i know the reason for said struggle is that i'm despondent and depressed and that runs so counter to how everyone at least attempts to act in this season of hope and joy. i also believe the reason is that i have always loved christmas and have gotten way into it over the years. so to feel the way i do at what has been traditionally been my favorite time of years makes this whole experience even more painful.

i woke up this morning feeling less than perky. actually, i felt like i'd been run over by a truck, dragged for six blocks over broken glass and then thrown in a briar patch filled with rattlesnakes. or as i put it to a friend, "it feels like i have a hangover without all the fun stuff beforehand." the worst part was that i needed to get up and get some provisions from the grocery store cause the cupboards were getting bare. now i hate going grocery shopping when i'm feeling hale and hearty. this i knew was going to be challenging. but off i went.

when i got there, i noticed the florist section was filled with all kinds of christmas greenery. i've been debating whether i wanted to go through the bother of decorating this season with usually the con side winning, but this time i thought i'd just go take a quick look see in case maybe i'd see something i liked and be inspired. well, as it turns out, there were a few things i liked, and before i knew it, half my cart was filled with centerpieces, flowers, and even a little cypress christmas tree that came with tiny lights and some ornaments. i thought, "that's a beginning."

when i got back home and all the groceries were put away. i went down to the storage area in my garage and found my collection of christmas music (over 80 cd's -- i told you i got way into christmas) and movies (only about a dozen or so of my all time favorites). i brought them upstairs and set them on the counter next to the floral decorations. and then i thought, "well that's another step."

and then fatigue and a wave of sadness swept over me. as much as i have loved christmas, it was always a problematic time for me and the former spousal unit. as much as i leaned into the spirit of the season, he seemed to distance himself from it. as you can imagine, this was the cause of much tension in our household. it was strange. he never was all that interested in the lead up to christmas but once the day arrived then he didn't want that one day to end. memories of all those christmases past really suck the life out of me. and this time was no different.

so here i am in bed again. i am hoping that some additional rest for this weary mind and soul will result in my getting a little more motivation. maybe before the weekend is out, i'll hang a wreath on the door. i'm not setting my sites on anything much more. as the saying goes, "you have to crawl before you can walk."

sick day

as tends to happen, my emotional angst has now taken physical form, and i am out on a sick day today. in the first two years i've been with this organization, i didn't take a single day off for illness (though, in all honesty, there have been days that i could have but still managed to will myself in to the office because of some meeting or project that needed my attention). unfortunately, as can be gathered from this past week's entry, neither the spirit or the flesh are willing to do much more than lie in my bed and see if that leads to some semblance of recovery.

last night in particular was a very challenging evening. i struggled through a chat with s.r. as he attempted to be rational and reassuring about what i was experiencing, and i was anything but (i have to admit i am impressed given his own condition post-holiday party enjoyment). he tried valiantly. and while i appreciate the effort, i'm afraid there has been no discernible improvement in my disposition (and on top of it i had severe stomach issues for much of the night).

"things will get better" is the reassurance that s.r. and others have given me. the problem is from where i sit today, in at least one fundamental area of my life, things haven't gotten better. for years i hoped for a positive, affirming, healthy, intimate, loving relationship. i got a relationship, but at it's core it was none of those things for me. and twelve years later, the desire remains the same, but my belief and optimism about its prospects for being fulfilled in my life have all but diminished.

so on that note, it's time to pop another pepto tablet, crawl back under the covers, pull them over my head and see if more sleep can do what encouragement and advice have failed to accomplish. someone wake me up when my life is better.

the multiplier effect

today is really, really not a good day. i forget the kind of multiplier effect a deep depression has on my emotions. any disappointment that under normal emotional circumstances would be remedied and moved past with a night's sleep not only remains but echoes deeply in the heart. any perceived slight becomes a significant indictment on my value as a friend, my potential as being special to someone else, my worth as a human being.

[a quick aside: interestingly enough, depression doesn't have the same magnification dynamic with good or positive moments. in fact it tends to mute or mitigate them -- like a black hole bending and absorbing any light that enters into it. not that i've had many positive moments in the last few weeks. then again, given the diminishment that my current emotional state produces to such moments, maybe i wouldn't recognize it if i did have one.]

my experiences over the last several days have served as profound reminders of this effect. and the voices of self-doubt have been hammering away at my soul. today in particular they come, to use a familiar quote, "not as single spies but in battalions." here's a sampling of what i'm dealing with (please note that the all of the "he" references do not apply to one individual):

he's not really interested in being your friend. he's just being polite.

you gave him what he wanted and now he's done with you.

you foolishly fell for lines and now you've been used and discarded.

he never intended to meet up with you.

he's just distancing himself from you, hoping you will finally catch the hint and stop bothering him.

you're broken, what guy would want to be your friend?

just give up already

the voices aren't new. i've dealt with them many times before and likely will continue to do so in other times to come. but again, just because something is not new doesn't mean it's still not really difficult. i still want to scream and cry and find a dark room and curl up and wish the world would go away -- wish i could go away. i don't want to talk with or deal with anyone. and as i'm sure i've recounted on this blog, my natural instinct in this kind of situation is to disconnect from what my heart perceives as the sources of pain. but i keep trying to lean in, desperately hoping to prove that the voices are wrong.

but, today, i know that i'm losing that mental debate. today, i feel the "voices" are spot on and that i am a stupid little boy who foolishly believes that life is good, that love is there for me, that i can ever be happy despite all of the "evidence" to the contrary.

each day i feel like my soul is fracturing and the sad thing is i don't know if i want to pull back together or just completely fall apart. but i continue to dissemble for those around me (even in this recent moment as my assistant came in to ask me some questions and catch up a bit. i smiled and laughed even if the smile had no more to it then the movement of facial muscles and the laughter just reverberated through the emptiness that i feel inside). i'm truly not sure how long i can continue to do it though.

i would say that i need a change but that phrase just reminds me of a particular moment that was nice. a moment that i thought i connected with another human soul. a moment that i now question if it was real or illusory, true or delusional, promise or passing. i don't know anymore. i just don't know.

can't we just get this over with already

this is one of those really slow moving kind of weeks. one of those weeks where you wake up (as i did this morning) and think, "omg! i can't believe it's only wednesday!" but they call wednesday "hump" day for a reason. at least i think the reason is that it's the pivotal day of the work week where once you get past it, it's a more rapid downhill coast to (and unfortunately through) the weekend.

i've actually been feeling that kind of feeling that time is plodding along at much too slow a pace this entire holiday season. some days it feels like the very air is made of molasses and that even my simple movements from place to place are happening in slow motion.

what's interesting about experiencing this particular phenomenon is it pretty much puts me in tune with the spirit of the season. well, the spirit that is shared by the youngest members of our population. i'm sure you remember the feeling as a child of it seeming to take forever for it to be december 25th or for chanukah or kwanza or diwali or whatever your main seasonal celebration is to arrive. many children right now are experiencing this same type of tortuously slow march (for them to their favorite moment of the year) as i am. the difference is that, in my case, i'm just wanting this season to pass quickly because there is nothing more challenging than being sad and alone at a time when everyone expects you to be happy and celebratory.

with that thought in mind, there is a specific challenge i've been experiencing this year. since i tend to be a somewhat private person, i haven't really told many folks that michael and i are no longer together (i also don't particularly feel like reminding people that we have broken up yet again ... and yes, go ahead and have some libation, but that's going to be it for this particular entry). however, i'm also not one to avoid the truth, so i've had to deal with people asking me what i'm doing for the holidays, usually in the form of, "are you going to st. louis?" the worst part is they inquire with this joyful countenance filled with the anticipation of the reuniting of two lovers at this "most wonderful time of year." and then i get to make like the grinch and tell them not only will i not be going to st. louis for the holidays, i won't be going back to st. louis to see michael ever ("like ever" to quote a lyric from a recently posted song). and invariably the look that comes across their faces is as if i told them, "oh, there isn't going to be a christmas this year!"

another difference that i have from the dear little rugrats is that i have to get past not one but two humps this season -- christmas is one thing, but for adults who are alone, new year's eve is a whole 'nother issue. now, i've not been a big new year's person, even when coupled, yet somehow, when de-coupled, it looms like this occasion that seems to exist solely to mock my singlehood. "you thought you felt alone before," says the spirit of the evening, "wait until you get an eyeful of all of those folks that are celebrating with someone on tv, and you just know i'm going to make sure that they focus the cameras on the couples that are kissing at midnight (cue maniacal laughter)." i think this year may call for actual alcohol rather than the sparkling grape juice that i usually get. maybe i can get so intoxicated that i either am completely anesthetized from feeling anything or i fall asleep prior to midnight and awaken in the morning. sure there may be some side effects to deal with, but some sacrifices have to be made in the name of avoiding painful emotional experiences.

who knows? maybe things will get better (though i literally just got some unfortunate news that have quashed my tentative travel plans for january, which means "happy" f***ing birthday to me, so maybe not). well, it looks like this winter rather than this holiday season may be my gauntlet to get through. anyone, want to take a wager on the spring?

i did this to myself

one of the most challenging realities to deal with post-relationship break-up is that, if you were the instigator of said break-up (as i have been multiple times -- ok that's a shot for you -- please refer to yesterday's blog entry if you are clueless about that reference), you come to realize that you are the cause of the sadness and depression with which you are currently struggling. now i'm sure that there are people who feel more relief or happiness or ecstasy after breaking up with someone, but that has not been my experience at all.

in my particular case, the "i did this to myself" feeling is not strictly or even primarily related to the break-up itself. for me, the larger issue is that the emotion i am struggling with now has its foundation in the fact that i went back repeatedly to michael (and there's another drink), thinking somehow things would turn out differently. there are moments in fact when i question why i stayed in the relationship prior to the first break-up (yeah, go ahead and swig) as long as i did. hope springs eternal i suppose. yes, but clearly so does stupidity.

it may sound as if i'm being hard on myself (and i likely am. it's one of the things i do best). still, i've been to the this place before (ok, maybe i should have instituted the drinking game after this entry), and with each time (drink), i am even more both perplexed and annoyed that i am here. yet again (chug), i find myself dealing with feeling alone and fearful for my future prospects.

i know i've shared before that it is perhaps my obsessive focus on being in a relationship that was probably the driver to my going back again and again to michael (you know what to do), but if the days that have transpired since closing the final chapter on that relationship have revealed anything to me, it is the fact that having love in my life is important. sharing my life with someone is important. caring for and supporting someone else is important. having someone who cares, supports and believes in me is important.

hmm, i just re-read that last paragraph and while all of that may be true, reading it again made me realize one more thing. i feel so broken and vulnerable that the idea of trying again with someone scares the hell out of me. and who in the world wants something that's broken? i am unsure of my own judgement in choosing the right person, and i doubt my capability to even be a good partner. again, this does not exactly describe the kind of person who is destined for love in his life.

so here i am at christmas time. alone. again (that's one for the road). there's snow on the ground. it may look like a winter wonderland and it is indeed a beautiful sight, but i doubt i will be happy tonight (or for many to come).

dead inside (again)

there are times when i sit down to write in this blog that i'm not exactly sure what i'm going to write about. it's at those times that i just ask myself one basic question, "well, how are you feeling right now?" as is probably obvious from this entry's title, the answer to this question is i'm not really feeling anything.

this is a phenomenon that i am not unaccustomed to. after particularly intense emotional periods, i go through a phase in which my feeling receptors are down for the count. i liken this particular experience to the scenario of keeping your hand on an open burner of a stove. if one were even able to keep his/her hand in place, the individual would find that either he/she would eventually pass out from the pain or the nerve endings in the hand would be destroyed and he/she would no longer feel anything. both reactions are a sign of a simple fact. the body will endure so much pain before it shuts down.  the same is as true for mental anguish as it is for physical pain.

this past weekend was a time of pretty significant mental assault as i struggled with many difficult and, at times, even conflicting emotions. by the time, i went to bed last night, i felt like i had run a marathon -- on my knees. i had hoped i would awaken in a better frame of mind. i did not.

as i've stated before, my relationship with michael has provided me with a few opportunities to know what the break-up experience is like (quick aside: i'm wondering if i should start making this a drinking game? every time i mention or allude to the fact that michael and i have broken up multiple times, you get to take a shot of your favorite drink). as a result, what i am experiencing is by no means novel. as i've also shared before, that fact doesn't make it any easier.

in fact, this time seems to be the hardest of all. i'm older, in an area where i don't have any friends, in a job that requires more of my attention, engagement and energy than at any time in my career (and by the way, i'm getting even more accountability and responsibility heading my way after the first of the year), and i have no clue as to what i even want from life. this is not a recipe for encouragement or optimism.

hmm, i've been staring at the wall for the last few minutes between typing the last sentence and this one, thinking facetiously that maybe i should have entitled this entry, "my life is so f***ed!" and just when i thought maybe i was done feeling anything for awhile, i am and it's not good. i guess there are a few nerve endings still working. for now.

when is it your turn...?

the interesting thing about creating a blog entry title is that, as the author, i'm pretty clear as to what i am making reference. it's only after typing in the title and seeing it written on the virtual page that i realize the title alone can create expectations for the reader of a completely different entry than i had in mind. i think you see where this is going.

to set the stage for today's entry, the "your" in today's title does not refer to me. it actually is a reference to another interior dialogue conversation i was having. this time it was between myself and the abstraction of two particular individuals.

following the discourse described in yesterday's entry, i ambled my way to the kitchen to make a quick meal (even though i wasn't particularly hungry given my emotional state following said discourse). well, the reflective mindset was still with me, and i began to think about s.r., who i had a texting dialogue with earlier in the evening, and an even newer friend that i was anticipating chatting with later that same night (let's call him "austin," at least for now). over the past days and weeks, i have been grateful for and enjoying both of these primarily online-based friendships. both guys are smart, witty, charming, and kind. they've both been supportive and been willing to put up with my emotional angst (i would imagine that knowing that if things got too deep one could always just turn off the computer is at least some comfort with respect to the latter).

anyway, i started thinking about and literally picturing these two guys in my mind (well, at the time, in austin's case, i was picturing what i imagined he looked like as i had not yet had the opportunity to get a visual. this was corrected later that same evening. i should probably mention now that both s.r. and austin are also pretty easy on the eyes. that's always a plus in my book even if most of your conversation takes place via instant messaging and texting). as i reflected on the nice moments i had shared with each, the contemplation took an unexpected turn. in the midst of this slight reverie, this thought came to mind, "i wonder when is it your turn to hurt me?"

while that thought coming at that particular moment was "unexpected," it was not at all surprising. the moment served as a reminder of what i tend to think of as both an unfortunate aspect of my psyche and a cosmic situational irony. it's a simple fact that while i have spent years coming to an acceptance of my identity as a gay man and have embraced that i desire emotional and physical intimacy with men, the fact still remains that in my heart, i really (really) struggle with trusting other men.

years of previous therapy have helped me learn that the source of this lack of trust is the fact that my father was never a part of my life. because of that lack of relationship, every other relationship i have with a male of the species, it could be a friendship, dating relationship, or, as in michael's case, a life partnership, is shadowed by the expectation that one day sooner or later this guy will hurt me deeply because that's what men who are supposed to care about you and love you do. they hurt you and then they leave, often never to return.

you know what's funny is i've shared this area of brokenness in me with the various guys who have been in my life (i even shared it with austin that same night and i imagine i will likely steer s.r. to this particular entry to share it with him as well). to a person each of them has encouraged me to be open and to trust them (in fact, just the words "you can trust me" often makes me weepy) and it's after i have that almost to a person the moment i dread happens and my heart breaks just a little bit more (sometimes A LOT bit more).

i think i should take this point to clarify at least one point. never, ever do i believe that any guy that i know or have known has intentionally set out to hurt me. in the same way that i know i have hurt people and it was not at all my intention to do so. in fact, it is the very last thing that i (and i imagine they) would ever want to do.

i guess at the heart of it, even with therapy, i still do harbor some remnants of the hurtful conclusion that i reached as a child. if my father left, never to see me again (save that one memory i recounted in the entry am i my father's son?) then, well, there must be something deeply wrong with me. i must be flawed or broken in some way that caused him to leave and not want to see me again.

now, you can tell me that the problem was not mine, it was his and i will agree with you. as with so many other perspectives i've shared over the course of this past week, my logical, rational mind will agree. i'm not sure that i will ever reach the point though that i will believe it completely. we all have our issues to work with and through and this is one of mine.

i guess the fact is that if i carry even the tiniest sense that there is something so wrong with me that it resulted in the man that had a pivotal role in creating me and bringing me into this world to reject me,  then it really shouldn't be a surprise to me that i carry the fear that no man will really ever want me. s.r. has often shared with me that fear is never a good thing and should not be listened to. again, i agree -- with my head.