I am too passionate. Or maybe that’s not quite the truth. Maybe the truth is that I hide my blues behind the bizarre guise of wanting to make the world better. Maybe the truth is that I am so infatuated with all that’s wrong with the world I’m secretly fighting all the outside demons to run from the internal ones. Or perhaps I’m just truly mad.
I think I’m making myself worse though, by arguing and debating people who I *know* have different views. I know it brings me down; I’ll get a little adrenaline rush but not long after the self doubt and blues follow. Guess it’s kind of like a drug in that regard. Maybe my passionate rants stem from a need for that rush to feel alive, despite the lows that follow.
Right now the first verse from the John Mayer song I shared is haunting me, because it rings so true. I know I have people around me who love me even on days I can’t even manage that for myself. But recent events have me feeling more alone than ever. I have invested all this time into being a friend to many but really true close friends to few. It is so so much harder to muster the guts to ask for support from those who owe nothing to you really at all. So for now, I’m stuck in my own little paradox of loneliness that’s eating at me.
I also realised, and this scared me, that there is a quiet resignation in my heart that if things really go wrong, I will end myself. And the scariest part is that it doesn’t seem even optional to my test tube brain right now; like it’s an just accepted that if the pain even gets too much greater than this, that my best solution is to just stop feeling. As sick as it is, right now I feel at peace with the thought.
Hopefully tomorrow’s psychiatrist visit will prove helpful with this – these thoughts are common with new drugs, almost like your body swings a bit too far to the other way before coming to rest at a healthy equilibrium