Therapy? I wish…

Tonight was bad.  Just felt bad, looked bad, smelled bad, tasted bad, sounded bad.  Bad, bad, bad.  Feeling like I need a bag of ritalin, a padded cell, a crash-helmet, a locked door, and a LOT of time.  I’m just… so angry at everything.  Angry at myself because I feel like I’m not getting anywhere, angry at others because I want what they have or want the skills that they have, and angry at myself for being angry… you see where I’m going here, right?  I mean, it’s bad enough that I feel shitty every time I have to spend money on something, or I screw-up something at work that any neophyte would’ve exclaimed “You dumb-ass!” at… but lately I’ve felt like the people I know for the most part have begun drifting away.  Like the rifts just grow and grow, slowly-but-surely over time.  I rarely get phone-calls anymore outside of the occasional call from mom, the only two people that instant message me anymore are my friends Paul and Laveur, and I’m constantly alone at work and at home because of my hours.  I feel like an anomaly in the world; a frackin’ interloper in the material affairs of the universe that I just so happen to share with others.  To be entirely honest, if it weren’t for the string of people that I try to maintain some kind of contact and relations with over the internet, I’d have been dead-and-buried years ago by my own actions.

That’s another thing, I don’t feel fulfilled in doing much of anything without someone else granting me some kind of positive feedback or reinforcement.  The only reason I climb or (in the case of my days in Florida) went to smoke hookah and play music was because they weren’t static activities.  They were dynamic and wild and always changing.  The music was never the same twice, the feeling was never an exact copy, and the conversations were always something that made me happy… now, about the only things that make me happy are mental gymnastics that I try and subject myself to with philosophy and politics, and bouldering.  Why?  Because they’re not static.  They constantly change and they’re never the same experience twice.  That’s always been a big problem for me: when I don’t have anyone else to do something with, I constantly find myself trying to engage in physical activities.  It’s really the only thing I can do with all this angry energy.  Once exhaustion sets-in and I get past it, though… I either sleep it off, and I’m relatively okay or I become morose and inconsolable.

I need a therapist.  Going to make that call this week…

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