The thing is…

The thing is I have slow hands and a fast heart.

However, I truly do my best to try to play my stupid part.

Problem is, the play I’ve been cast in is a horrible work of art.

Worse than that is this role I’ve been cast in ain’t nothing but ah la carte.

I was born an emotional storm that was built to perform.

In regards to what’s normal I’ve always trouble trying to conform.

Yet here I’ve been cast as nothing but bloody scenery.

What I want to do is explain to every one what little they have seen of me.

The thing is my rough edges refuse to conform.

And the result is I’m left the way wrong shade of bloody greenery.

The thing is I was born with a fast heart.

Slow to judge and fast to fondness.

What I want is perfect politeness, a truly lost art.

It’s one of the deepest cuts, heavily ingrained in my subconscious.

The thing is I don’t want to be fake or run my life like a scam.

My heart beats different in order to design a more artful electrocardiogram.

The thing is I have slow hands.

In all things social I’m not very skilful.

In fact, the moments most find awkward I find very blissful.

The thing is I love Italian food and sweet Chilean wine and to be honest that’s probably why my sugars are giving me problems all the time.

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I don’t like me

I don’t like me

Two days ago my therapist asked me, kind of out of the blue, what I wanted from therapy.

It was towards the end of our session and didn’t have really anything to do with the bulk of our conversation had to do it that day. It really caught me offguard and I could only think of one thing to say.

“I would like to one day get to a place where I like me.”

I think the kind of sums it up.

I have lived a life of disappointment and I guess I just want to be OK with that.

yeah–

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my thoughts, even as distracted and attention deficted as they are. I truly do appreciate it and I hope you got something out of it wether it be good or bad. If it is so bad you have a need to let me know feel free to send you angered words to TheDepartmemtOfComplaints@gmail.com

As always it is very important to me that this particular blog does not comes across as a editorial of any kind and for it to be more of a stream of consciousness and as such there is zero editing if mistakes are made they are left for your enjoyment, or torture as it were.

Ketamine and Loneliness

So I’m starting another medical experiment trial this time it is using a genetically modified form of ketamine. Apparently this new pharmaceutical company has removed the things in it that result in the paralytic effects and this is the second double blind trial on the new drug. It’s not a lot of pay for this trial however my therapist and my primary care are interested to see if it works for me. The only downside is I have to drop and cleanse myself of the Abilify I’m allowed to stay on the Wellbutrin but I have to cut my dose down to about a quarter of what is now.

After my first appointment the evaluator from the pharmaceutical company told the lead investigator with the main company that she didn’t want to use me as a subject because of the diabetes and the Atelophobia along with the synesthesia. I was asked to leave the room and the lead investigator, whom I love, apparently talked her into it.

So there’s that.

What else is going on… I think that loneliness is addicting and it’s weird because of how much I loath it. Like I know that I have an addictive personality, I’m not an addict, but I do have addictive tendencies. I know that because of the synesthesia different sensations parallel and connect with other sensations. So even though being so sad and depressed that you become immobile is not something I actively crave in my conscious mind, I have this weird tendency to associate it with a serotonin spikes or some other addictive quality. So kind of like an addict returning to her or his vice even though it causes them pain you still want it even though you hate it.

I hate it.

You know how sometimes a good cry can make you feel good afterwards or how disappointed you are when you can’t sneeze it’s kind of like that amplified a hundred times.

Sometimes I think we would be more successful as a species if we were void of emotion. Maybe not more successful but more geared towards survival. Maybe not.

I’m severely afraid of being a disappointment so much so that the major depressive disorder is intensified to a crippling state. Synesthesia ping-pongs me around from emotion to feeling to synapses of every kind. And the emotional ride give me anxiety so intense my heart tries to escape through my chest via a jack-Hammer style of pounding. All of it makes me so sad it hurts.

And that’s the thing or the difference between feeling sad… Or being sad and being depressed or having major depressive disorder it hurts the depression hurts and it’s not something you can explain to someone who hasn’t experienced it. The pain is vague and cant be explained by injury or anatomical physical history. But it is so severe… I can’t articulate it.

Also I am afraid that I am lashing out at people who are reaching out to HELP. Because I don’t want them involved I don’t want them to feel the way I feel. I don’t want them to know that I feel this way because it would be disappointing to them, I think. I don’t want anybody to feel pity on me. I don’t want someone to be sad R because I’m sad. I don’t want people to know that I am tormented by my innards, terrorized by psyche, and titillated by my loneliness.

I’m broken and a failure.

I think my most epic failure or my biggest disappointment in myself is that I don’t have a family. You see a very young Noah and a not so you young Noah desperately wanted so bad to have a wife and a bunch of kids before the age of 25 I also wanted to adopt. Well that didn’t happen and I am glad I am no more of a burden for anyone else besides those whom are already plagued by my being in their life.

I am FUBAR.

No one deserves to have to deal with me.

No one.

But I have to continue to fight for contentment! I can not let myself be all consumed and crippled by depression, anxiety, synesthesia or atelophobia.

Happiness is not an option for me. But I can continue to fight and stay content I’ll do my best to make others happy.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my thoughts, even as distracted and attention deficted as they are. I truly do appreciate it and I hope you got something out of it wether it be good or bad. If it is so bad you have a need to let me know feel free to send you angered words to TheDepartmemtOfComplaints@gmail.com

As always it is very important to me that this particular blog does not comes across as a editorial of any kind and for it to be more of a stream of consciousness and as such there is zero editing if mistakes are made they are left for your enjoyment, or torture as it were.

Have a great day!

Love,

Noah

Anxiety attacks through Anxiety attacks.

Today I had an anxiety attack brought on by a an acute wave of severe depression. I went from waking up with this sincere impression that I and my life were both failures to coming very close to killing my self (unintentionally). Which to be honest is more of a norm in my life than any other way of waking up, however it was just an elevated or more effective eagre of depression. I told my self that I wouldn’t let it win and went along with my day as usual I went to my favourite place to write and also serves amazing breakfast tacos. Literally every thought I had be van to pattern its self and end with, “why? what does it even matter? No one who matters will ever care! Wouldn’t be easier to not try and amount to anything than to fail at surmounting to be anything…” I just couldn’t shake it. So I got nothing done and had to repeatedly tell the server that I was okay even though I had tear stained cheeks and could barely talk. I paid for the uneaten meal including a $5 tip and left. I was walking in a haze each step felt like it was springy as if I were in moon boots or gravity shoes. Then on my way home it really set in. Like there was a very heavy demon siting on my chest preventing me from breathing and viciously torturing me emotionally. It doesn’t help that I was driving a six speed in traffic. If there was ever a list of the top ten worst places (mental note to write one) working a clutch in 6 lanes of traffic would be on it. I put my hazards on and began to work my way insanely slowly over to the side of the highway.  By this point I had lost all my senses except sight which was still clouded and narrowing. Once I was there I opened my door and fell out gasping for breath and praying for it to end. My legs started to feel weird. They started to feel weird because I didn’t pull the parking break and my flailing foot must have knock the stick shift out of gear so my car was beginning to roll away. I rolled my head over to look back to see my hand millimetres away from my back tire (which in my head resembled the huge rolling Boulder from Indiana Jones) I can literally remember the stream of consciousness that said, “boy I sure hope I can move my hand out of the way in time”. I yanked my hand out of the way sat up at my waist lunged forward and grabbed the steering wheel and yanked as hard as I could to pull my fat ass back into the cab and succeeded only in slamming my forehead into the frame of the open door. I fell back and smacked my head on the pavement for the second time and tried my best to will my car to stop. Which as most ventures in my life failed miserably. By now my car had rolled a good yard away from me so that my feet were by the rear tire . I put my foot on the tire with the hopes of stoping it like a brake but succeeded in only pushing it away. I put my foot up behind my bumper and got it to merely slow down a bit. I sat up and finely stood but leaned on the trunk which pushed it forward again. I then ran around to the driver side to dive in and in mid air my car gently bumped into a telephone pole which altered my planed trajectory so I basically just lept into the console of my car slamming my head into the passenger car door and for now… no reason. I pulled the parking break out of sheer aggravation and opened my passenger door then tucked and rolled out that side of my car onto that part of the road that is pavement partially covered by grass and cried without the ability to hear how loud I was. I finally  rolled my self up then turned around and sat with my back to the back door of the passenger side of my car and pulled my knees up to my chest. Something moved out of right side of my peripheral vision which caused me to flinch and almost give my self whiplash only to focus my vision on a small Hispanic lady who pulled over to help and holding the hands of her twin daughters. ( I think they were twins but for all I know none of them might not have existed at all. ) she was waving to get my attention and I assume asking if I needed help. I tried to yell out that I was fine. I don’t know what noise came out but she pulled her girls closer to her. My iPhone fell out of my shirt pocket (I have no idea how it stayed in there) but when I picked it up it vibrated telling me I got an email. When swiped it open it was from a production company informing me that they were passing on a screenplay. I then took what I think was my first breath in ten minutes which felt like a kick to the chest but then of course my chest began to untighten, I began to hear the traffic as well as the Spanish from the nice young lady and feel the heat from the pavement beneath me. Then I began to laugh hysterically at the thought of how comically horrible the situation was and how I couldn’t wait to tell it on stage. So this nice young Hispanic lady who stopped on the side of the street to help me and saw the whole ordeal watches me go through all of that and then watches me to proceed to laugh uncontrollably to the point of cackling. Her eyes widened she grabbed her daughters and left this obviously escaped criminally insane mental patient. My iPhone vibrated once more and I looked down at my phone to see another new email from the Writers Guild Foundation saying that I had been accepted into program based upon my potential as a writer. I bowed my head and thanked God for the whole of it and went about my day. Of course I called my mom and family first.

This is currently my favourite awkward plot point in my life story. I don’t want to take this time to tell you to find the silver lining or the lesson that you can learn from every situation bad or good. Because you know that we are taught that at a young age. What I do want to tell you is how important it is to have a game plan. I normally handle anxiety attacks very well obviously this time I didn’t. If you are prescribed medicine stick with it, stay in that regiment and discuss your findings and feelings with your therapist regularly. If for any reason you have to stop taking your mess be prepared to alter your daily life as such if that means slowing your self down to process things then do so. If you need to take beat and allow yourself to acclimate to a situation so you can traverse through it in a more emotionally healthy manner then do so. I normally have a game plan set up for moment of severe depression or anxiety. 

1. Know your warning signs Physically; what do you do how do you feel? Mentally; what do you think what sensations normal do you experience? And Kat but not least Behaviour;   How do you behave, react or what do you do or start to do when an attack comes on.

2. So once I recognise what is happening I go into a turbo mode and quickly get my self to a safe place both literally and metaphorically. I pray for help and guidance as well as safety both emotionally and physically. Then I wait.

3. Then attack and defend. Guard your self with reassuring good and happy thoughts. The best offence  is a good defence attack any thing depressing or downing with rejection and telling your self that you got s lot of things going for you and more than half of them you can’t even see that you are ignorant of. Never allow any thought of “what if” enter your consciousness both bad and good “what if”s are no win scenarios so if you just shut them down instantly you can save your self a great deal of heartache. Remember a thought is just a thought a uncontrollable ‘blah’ it is not a message from God or an alien or any other force. As soon as you start to give a thought, bad or good some elevated position of hierarchy it will have that much more contorll over you and your emotions.

4. Recover. Come down easy. It’s important to breath and know that you are breathing! The awareness or impression rather that you can not breath will only increase your anxiety and crescendo the severity. So breath tell your self it is going to be alright. 

Also as always I’m not a doctor or mental health professional. These are just my findings as a flawed member off humanity.

If you are ever in San Antonio Texas go to Gilberts Mexican Restraunt for both breakfast and lunch. If for breakfast get two tacos (one with Bacon, egg and cheese and one with Country sausage, egg and cheese) if for lunch get the Havi Special with no lettuce …because lettuce is of the devil and you don’t want that in your life… Tell them El Rambo sent you! The Restraunt is in the back of the Strip mall and it’s the best!

8161 Latigo Dr, San Antonio, TX 78227

My intention is that you are able to take away some positivity and help for yourself. However if you feel as though life would be better with out me you can always email me at TheDepartmentOfComplaints@gmail.com .

I hope you laughed and maybe learned something. 

Love,

Noah