I'm fine

So my Facebook has been off for over a week now, and it just occurred to me that last time I did that it was because I was in a bad place, emotionally. I know there's about a 1% chance (optimistically) that any of you check this blog when I don't post it on Facebook, but just in case anyone is worried about me and winds up here, I'm alright. I just wanted to take a break from Facebook.

Hi

I decided to compile a list of all the things I want out of life.

1. Cuddles
2.

y u do dis

People ask me all the time, "Jacob, why do you write your blog?"

That's a lie. Nobody asks me why I write this blog. But the fact that nobody asks kind of helps to answer the question.

I am very bad at socializing with people. I have fairly low self-esteem, which makes me self-conscious in social situations, and I wind up saying very little. This is why 90% of my blog posts are late at night or early in the morning; I'm so guarded that I can only let myself feel comfortable and vulnerable and honest at these weird times of day when nobody is around.

I write this blog primarily for me. Somewhere down the line, I may be curious enough to want to read these poorly-written snapshots into the mind of my early-20s-self. I'm not sure why. It's not exactly groundbreaking stuff. But, I do think it can be therapeutic to write these sorts of things down, especially if you are as much of a social moron as I am. There aren't many people I talk to about personal stuff, so I use the blog to talk to myself.

But I also write it to share with people. Even though I tend to be an agreeable person, because of my social ineptitude, most people don't know me well. Posting this publicly gives people a little more insight into what I'm about. This purpose is definitely secondary, though; you don't need to follow my blog and talk to me about every post to be my friend. This isn't a reading assignment.

And I guess the third reason I write this blog (or at least this post in particular) is to procrastinate, because I totally have a lab report I'm supposed to be doing right now.

Sometimes I forget I'm a person, too

I spend so much of my time taking such a passive role in my own life, just observing others and waiting for things to happen, that sometimes it doesn't even occur to me that I'm supposed to be the one that decides where my life goes. I mean, I can't really make my situation drastically different from how it is right now (at least not until I finish school), but I can damn sure be doing a lot more than I am. I leave so many of the things I care about and want to accomplish half-finished, and just tell myself "I'm not ready, now's not the time, maybe later".

It's probably about time for me to go to sleep. I might stay up and work on some things.

I'm sorry

I'm sorry I disappeared for the past couple of days. I know some of you were worried about me, and it was selfish of me not to respond, but I couldn't really talk to anybody. And I'm sure most of you didn't notice anyway; it's not like there's a lot of people I keep in touch with on a daily basis.

Looking at my last post now, it seems kind of silly. I guess that's how it is on the outside looking in. It doesn't seem to make a lot of sense. I can't really put it into words; nothing was wrong then, nothing is wrong now, but everything seems different.

Telling me you're afraid you'll hurt my feelings is like worrying that you'll get the ocean wet.

This is not a cry for help

I'm fairly sure nobody is going to read this, since people only read my blogs when I post them to Facebook.

I just had what was probably the best weekend I've had in years. I don't want to go into too much detail, but I got to see some people I don't see very often, and I was basically having fun with friends and family for three days straight. Aside from some sleep deprivation, it was a really great time.

So why do I feel the worst I've felt all year?

For some reason, I can never just let myself be happy. Literally nothing is going wrong in my life right now (at least, nothing that wasn't going wrong a week ago), but I have a good time for a few days and I need to punish myself to balance it out? Am I just not good enough for happiness?

I should probably be talking to a therapist or something instead of writing this blog. It's pretty much the same shit all the time anyway. I hate people who diagnose themselves with mental disorders to get sympathy and attention, but I would honestly be really surprised if I didn't have something wrong with me.

I'm having a hard time being around people right now, so for the time being, my Facebook is off. If anyone miraculously happens to read this anyway, I'm sorry. I may or may not respond if you try to get in touch with me.

Life is like a box of chocolates.

In November, I bought a comically large box of chocolates, because you never know, I might have someone to give them to as a Christmas gift.

In December, the chocolates stayed securely in my own room, unopened. They're probably a better Valentine's day gift anyway.

In February, the chocolates still had not moved from their spot next to my bed. Maybe I'll just eat them myself. Or maybe not. You never know.

In July, this month, the chocolates expired.

I'm mostly upset about the waste of chocolate.

Too Busy For Depression

Every so often, I fall into this pattern where I start to overanalyze everything in my life and wind up hating everything about myself, with the end result being that I don't talk to anyone for days (or sometimes weeks). It's getting to the point where that would normally be happening again, but I've been feeling fine lately. My hypothesis is that I've been literally too busy to let it happen, since I've been working so much and out of the house pretty often otherwise. Maybe it'll pop up sometime soon now that I'm done with school for the semester (I'm on my way to my final right now), but I think I might have some stuff to keep me occupied for a while. It's just strange because I'm not sure if I should be anxious waiting for it to hit me, or hopeful that it won't happen again.

*just a note on the title of this post: I don't mean to belittle anyone who is actually diagnosed with depression by equating my feelings with theirs. The way I feel during these periods is consistent with pretty much every firsthand account of depression that I've heard, but I don't know it's the real deal, since it's intermittent, and I haven't actually seen a therapist since I was little (and that was just because my mother couldn't figure out why I suddenly stopped doing all of my homework in second grade). I don't want to be one of those deluded people that diagnoses themselves with every psychological disorder under the sun so they can be a special little snowflake, (because that's quite frankly pretty insulting to people that really have those problems), I just want to explain how I feel. Also sorry this note is longer than the actual content of the post.

Is it a little bit sad?

I'd say I spend at least 80% of my time in fictional universes. Whether I'm reading a book, playing a video game, watching a TV show or movie, or even listening to music, there is a definite disconnect between where my mind and body are located. This applies even when I don't have any sort of media in front of me; my body may be sitting in front of the computer at home or behind the counter at work, but my mind is scaling the mountains of the Vale of Arryn, or taking down thresher maws on Tuchanka, or even walking the streets of west Baltimore.

So is it a little bit sad that despite all of these huge, detailed fictional worlds (or fictionalized representations of the real world) filled with exciting characters and adventures, that my wildest fantasy is to go back into my own past and fix, or at least apologize for, all of the mistakes I've made and the ways I've mistreated people who didn't deserve it? 

Or is it a lot sad?

Now, I don't think I was the worst person in the world. I wasn't even the worst person in my social circle. But I also don't think that's the point. I was worse than I could have been. I still am, in a lot of ways. I'm not really talking about going out of my way to actively make people miserable (although I am responsible for some of that); it's more about all the times I was cold, arrogant, condescending, or even just awkward and distant. 

At my worst, I thought far too highly of myself, and I constantly put people down because of it. Which is why I tend to be a little more sensitive to that sort of behavior in others. And even when I started to put that behind me, I was (and still am) wary of letting people get close to me. This is mostly due to my own issues with self-esteem and unwillingness to change, but I do understand that it affects others. I know that sometimes people want to be closer to me, as a friend or anything else, and believe me when I say I understand how frustrating it can be to be kept at a distance.

I know it's a bit silly of me to look for forgiveness about these sorts of things when they're mostly in the past, which is why I'm just gonna post it here the one time and do my best to move on. I don't expect any responses, and I'm not sure if I even really want them. But I do want you to read this, because if you think this might apply to you, it probably does. I've been shitty to a lot of people in a lot of ways, and if those things stick in your head like they do in mine, then you deserve to hear an apology.

Anyway, both for myself and for anyone else who still wants to hear it- I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the way that I was, for the way that I am, and for the way that I may continue to be until I truly fix myself and move on.