On Form Over Substance

I need to apologise that this post will be as depressing one possible can be. I make no excuses except to point out that we all cry for help in many different ways.

It is hard to describe the despair I feel at the moment – the want for it to end. The world feels like a giant tea cup ride in Disneyland and all I want to do is get off. My head hurts from contemplating this from every conceivable angle. But I am not trying to make it sound like I am on my way in doing a Kurt Cobain. There is more to life I have to sort out and people who depend on me. As plain and boring as it sounds, that is the main reason. Oh and religion as well if we are on this route of being explicitly honest.

It has been an adventure. To say the least. I learn things about myself that I thought I couldn’t anymore. I learned to be more patient. Well just a little bit and I appreciated the door opening to a world I never knew existed. A more intellectual world. A warmer world and definitely a world I would like to continue to visit.

But with every high, there is that sinister low waiting to happen. Sometimes just a temporary dip and sometimes like this past weekend. A distinctive plunge in the index of happiness. Mine at least. Anyway, I want to rage about it and perhaps in the next few days I will but if I sit here and contemplate it objectively and forgive me if I sound arrogant – it really has nothing to do with what I did.

Of what I am instead is another story.

I make no pretences of what I can or cannot give. Of what I am. And the confines of my restrictions and freedoms. This I present blatantly. And implicitly there was a choice to be made before we step towards or from any direction. So I did not change. I did not come as a wolf in sheep clothing. But the inherently disappointing fact is, the game changed its rules. Without notice. So I am biter about this. I am angry. But accepting of the choice.

I cannot fault the sincerity and the enchanting time spent. It was short of perfect but nothing is – it had the everyday drama that one would expect or imagine always with a favourable outcome. I think I grew and I appreciated the maturity.

But this residue that I am left with – pales in comparison to the vividness of the past. I am anxious and desperate to turn the next chapter.

For this I think I need help. I cannot do this on my own.