The thoughts that cannot be entertained

Therapy
I have this very dear friend who is easily the best person I know. He's smart, he's kind, he tolerates me against all reason. He also has a lot of emotional issues. The nature of those issues is not really important; the important thing is that they are bad enough to make him burst into tears whenever he has wine. After the first couple of times that this happened I suggested, in my own emotionally-stunted-but-caring way, that he see some sort of therapist. He still hasn't. I'd probably be annoyed with him if I didn't understand it. People like him and me don't do that sort of thing unless we absolutely have to. I couldn't even follow it through to the end when the time did come for me to get professional help.


Former Lovers

"What makes a nightmare nightmarish is the sense that something is happening that should not be." -- Ligotti

There are some things I don't like to think about unless I absolutely have to. Talking about my exes was unpleasant even before Dr Wilson laughed in my face during our first session. Now I try not to even think about them. But so much of what my brain does is out of my control, and the thoughts have found their way into my dreams. Last night I had a dream about S. It was very similar to the dreams I usually have about L: he came back, he told me he missed me and we kissed. There was nothing natural or logical about it, but I could almost feel my brain willing me to believe it, even after I noticed his eyes were the wrong colour. I let myself be happy. I let myself forget about the girlfriend and the baby and the eye colour. It was a blissful moment of weakness until my dream warning lights started to go off. I think the most disturbing thing about the dream is how similar it is to the dreams I usually have about L, it makes me think that the dreams aren't really about either of them. They're obviously just place holders for someone or something else. This morning I wasn't freaking out. Later in the day I found myself thinking about him more and it took me a little while to realise that the weird feeling in the pit of my stomach wasn't caused by my missing him, it was the increasing anxiety of knowing I would have to go to sleep again soon. Right now I am filled with a dreadful sadness that I can't afford to entertain. I don't have the time. I don't have the privacy. But I'm hoping that writing about it will somehow decrease the chances of me dreaming about either of them. Whenever I have a particularly upsetting dream about S or L, I always try to think of Frank Dominio and his absurd dreams about his boss to make myself feel better. It protects me from having to think about how absurd it is that I'm still hung up on a man I was only with for 2 weeks just because he made me feel connected to another human being for the first time in my life. Or being hung up on someone I loved saying something I'd suspected about myself for so long(that it is too hard to love me). I have learned to accept the absurdity, it's never going away. If I ever want to fit into the real world, I need to acknowledge the things about me that are absurd; caring this much about these two random men is absurd.

Loneliness

 The atmosphere of the existentialist outsider is unpleasant to breathe. There is something nauseating, anti-life, about it

--Colin Wilson,The Outsider

Recently I've been really enjoying all of the existential/pessimistic literature I have been able to get my hands on(a couple of days ago I ordered A Short History of Decay by Emil Cioran and I can't wait to get it), but I'm also worried that these books are going to make me even weirder. I'm basically unlovable as it is and I feel like this pessimism thing is going to make completely intolerable. I can't forget that I don't exist in a vacuum, what will happen to me when I no longer have friends? The friends that I have now are amazing, if a little scant, but they aren't going to stick around forever. They will leave, everyone always does. And what will happen to me without love? I'll be able to think more clearly, for sure. But clear thinking seems to be the exact opposite of "survival instinct", so what good does that do me? On the other hand, how important is it to survive, really? I went without love for 2 full decades. But that was back when I still had hope. What will happen to me now that I have neither? I can't ever let anyone know me, even when the existential outsider atmosphere gets thick enough to make them gag, that will always only be the tip of the iceberg.

Fatigue
My dear friend who continues to tolerate me against all reason said something to me the other day that is sort of scratching away at me. We were talking about my my future plans, such as they are, and he simply said, "I wish you could just catch a break." It wasn't exactly helpful. When he said it, I just rolled my eyes and went on talking about my much more practical ideas. I didn't want to entertain that sort of thinking: fantasies and pipe dreams of me finally getting to rest and maybe not be quite so sad all the time. It's impractical and unrealistic and it only serves to make me realise just how tired I am. I need at least the illusion of energy to achieve something and maybe build some sort of life for myself.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,But I have promises to keep,And miles to go before I sleep,And miles to go before I sleep.

--Robert Frost, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening


 My brain is mush and I have a bunch of lab reports I haven't even started yet, I have no idea where I'm going to get the money to pay for this semester's tuition and I need to lose like 20kg. I need to put these thoughts away.