Cheers

Apologies in advance, I’ve been drinking and am in an introspective and admittedly very depressed mood. Feel free to pass this one up.

Isolation.

I hate that word. It’s always on my mind, because it’s an inescapable part of my day to day life.

I am isolated where I live. My anxiety prevents me from easily being able to rectify this, and the only peer group that I feel like I’d fit in (which is that of a local game shop) is already heavily invested in my ex-girlfriend. I don’t see that being a healthy thing for me any more than continuing to live with her has really been a healthy thing.

How many of you wake up on any given day, and know that it’s entirely possible that for that day, a full 24 hour span, you may not see a single other living person who cares about you in any sense of the word? This is me almost every single day.

I live like a hermit in my own head.

I have the internet. I can email people, or IM, or Mumble or games, Skype, Facebook…a nigh infinite number of ways to communicate spills out at me every single time I look at my phone and my computer screen.

I won’t say that it doesn’t help, because that’s not true. It helps a lot. Knowing there are people out there who even for only seconds a day I may bump into on Twitter, a collision course of a humorous tweet and the laugh it causes, helps an awful lot. But in a way, all this really ends up being is casting bottles into the ocean - at the start of every day, at the end of every night, I’m still on my own desert island with no realistic hope of a passing ship.

I’m a princess imprisoned at the top of the tower, unable to save myself, and relying on others to save me is a fruitless endeavor.

For those of you reading this, perhaps you’re biting back the reply “Well, fix it! Change something - this is a problem of your own creation, a prison of your own making, and you have the power to change it!”

Sure I do. I’m the only one who really does, because expecting other people to fix my problems is self-centered and useless.

You can go ahead and tell that to the years of depression, of anxiety, of social fear and feeling for all the world like a pariah even when amongst friends.

You can tell that to all the hateful, spiteful people throughout my life that’ve done nothing but let me down and use me, that have abandoned me, that have betrayed me and my trust.

You probably can’t even fathom how difficult it really is to let any sort of counselor into the fucked up and overgrown garden that is my head. It’s not just talking, it’s lowering layers of defenses I didn’t even know I had, layers of misplaced trust stacked on top of layers of lies I tell myself just to function.

Maybe you can. Maybe you’re just as fucked up as me. I hope for your sake that you’re not, because I wouldn’t wish this (or anything like it) on anyone else.

I wish I could just snap my fingers. It’s all I can do to go to counselling, to keep the hope alive that someday I won’t feel like this inside.

When I was a little kid, my favorite TV show (according to my mom, as I have no recollection of this) was Cheers. Apparently I loved the show, and would wander around the house humming the theme song. I’ve looked it up on Wikipedia, and for the life of me, I can’t remember a single damn thing about the show, or any of the characters - just the theme song.

At the end of the day, I want to be somewhere (mentally, physically, and emotionally) where people know my name.