alone – Mister A’s domain

My world

My world is filled with darkness, unhappiness, loneliness, and failure.

My world goes back and forth between flailing, distant hope and accepting a permanently doomed fate.

My world is a constant reminder of how weak I am. And always have been in too many ways.

My world wishes for the young adult energy-filled type good time breaks from my hell (occasional dating, nights out, etc) that are now forever gone.

My world has a laundry list of long gone, lost opportunities (and an empty list of realistic future ones).

My world consists of living in the past as much as possible.

My world feeds off of escape from itself.

My world is spending most days not wanting to have this life, but also being too scared of dying.

My world has had a lot of emotional pain and issues for the last 37 of my 49 years. And a future of physical pain and issues beginning at this age.

My world waits for a useful answer to the “how can you start caring enough to change” question (that will never come).

My world is headed for a destitute, miserable ending years down the road.

My world is not one that I’d wish on anyone.

Given how the first three years of college went, I did not expect an adult life of being such a loner. But even though my depression (that took hold late in my senior year) had a lot to do with that, it wasn’t how things began.

Near the beginning of that year, it was time for my 21st birthday. And it’s naturally a tradition for your close friends to take you out and celebrate it. I assumed that would be the case. It wasn’t.

Despite these being the people that I’d been close with and hung out regularly for those first few years (and everything always being fine), all I got was one mention about it from my best friend. Saying how the first big exams were that week and “sorry”, but no plans.

And I still can’t believe they did that. It should’ve been obvious that regardless of any exams, you just work around it. Doesn’t have be ON your birthday; just go out sometime the weekend before (or the weekend after). Anything like that is fine. But you don’t dismiss someone’s 21st. Especially without a care.

I never said anything about it. Even as we all got together for his 21st about six weeks later. Go figure eh. But it was insulting. And I never forgot.

Between that, my depression about to take hold, and weekend get togethers w/ them not being my style anymore (as they turned much more into corny married people-like nights rather than college students), I started becoming distanced from them as the year went on.

And of course, that distance (not just from them, but from most people) became more and more pronounced once I got into the real world. By the time I was in my mid-20s, I knew that developing or maintaining close friendships would probably never happen again.

So here I am today. Turning 50 this year. And while I’m still not capable of meaningful bonds with people, I could really use some closer (and local) friends to help with turning my life around. Especially after having to move back east for my mother.

That was when I realized just how invisible I’ve really become.

At this stage in life, most of my past (and somewhat current) friends have their own families. Some for ages now. And most people, whether it be those friends or especially strangers, don’t even consider adding new people closely in their lives at this point. I mean it can happen occasionally if two married couples randomly meet on vacation or something (or through your kids), but not usually when it’s a single outsider.

Sure those friends may answer or eventually reply/call if I say hi to catch up, but that’s just for an occasional fleeting half-hour or so. And since I’m not an important part of anyone’s life, I’m usually the one reaching out. So if I disappeared tomorrow, it wouldn’t affect anyone.

It’s also the same if I try to connect with anyone new on social media. It’s a totally different vibe from when I was in my 20s. Most late 40ish people’s adult lives have simply long been complete by now. Even including the single ones.

So….can only imagine what this will be like in my later years when the elder members of my family are all gone. Given how I’m fine about being a loner socially, I’ll handle it better than most. But it’s obviously going to make me even more unhealthy than I already am, and I admit that it’ll still hurt.

It’s almost like being a ghost. Invisible.

Christmas time is here

A word of warning: if you stumbled upon this entry (from the Christmas tag) and are looking for the usual joyous life stories and anecdotes about the season, then this is not for you.

In the midst of most other parts of life continuing to suffer, I’ve already begun hearing the seasonal music at the mall in the last week. Yesterday I took a few laps there to get some exercise, and it was an instant reminder of what was to come in the upcoming weeks.

Families. Holiday happiness and magic. Celebrating life. But all that did was have me fighting to stop tearing up right in public.

Why? Well, in recent years, I’ve thought more about how brutal the holidays will be for me down the road. No close family except my mother. Once she’s gone, then there won’t be anyone. Dad’s side of the family does live a few hours away. My uncle, aunt, and their families. But while we’ve always been on good terms, we’ve never been very close.

And with how I am, I don’t even want to be.

Anyway…..as Christmas approaches this year, I’ve found myself sinking into a new abyss about it. For the first time, it’s now representing all the sadness in my life. And everything I don’t have anymore (or never had), and likely won’t again. Now all I think about is the childhood Christmas joys of the past, the emptiness of the present (mom and I are just salvaging life at this point), and my future existence with the brutal loneliness of a totally forgotten person.

Sure I could attempt to make big life changes to prevent some of this. Start dating again or make attempts to bond with the rest of the family more. But I just feel like this is who I am, and that it’s the path I’m destined to take. At age 49 now, the lifelong adult depression and destructive habits and comfort zones seem too embedded in me to fight. You can’t just flip a switch and start changing into someone who genuinely welcomes companionship and happiness.

I wish I could.

Because that’s the thing. When I see those people at the mall with full lives this time of year, I don’t wish I was them.

My wish is that I wanted to be them.

Happiness in mediocrity and the curse of lost success

Next to me at work is a woman in her early 60s and about to retire permanently.

She is, by most accounts, the typical decent person. Friendly, kind of a tomboy, involved in a serious relationship, has a well-rounded overall life, and with job duties similar to mine.

Most people wouldn’t think much of that (because it sounds so ordinary). I, on the other hand, see her as someone who stands out more than most.

Why? Because she seems genuinely happy and content with herself and her life. I can hear it in her voice during the occasional business related phone calls that we have there.

And I admit that it makes me envious.

Here is someone who’s never done anything that would be considered extraordinary by more materialistic standards. Yet her life is the emotionally healthy one that most wish they could have.

I imagine that a main part of that contentedness is that she’s accomplished about all that she ever hoped to. And that’s where I think her life deviates the most from mine: while my potential likely has a higher ceiling than hers…..I, on the other hand, have failed so badly to hold on to my own accomplishments (or to ever get close to that stage again after all these years.)

Up until now, when it comes to “is it better to have loved and lost than never loved at all” dilemma, I was always on the loved and lost side. But at this point, I’m not so sure.

Because at the moment, I know I’d be much better off if I didn’t want to live up to my past standards again. Especially since I’m the depressive type.

When you’re not emotionally healthy enough to handle losing your success, then it may be best just to never succeed much at all. And I so wish that wasn’t the case.

But I’m a living example of it.

“Are you excited?”

I was asked this (thankfully along with a couple other people) by the boss at my new job a few weeks ago.

A question that a depressed person never wants to hear.

Especially in that atmosphere. You then think: do you really want to know my answer to this?

Not like it was her fault. As mentioned in my last entry, no one there knows about my troubles. And even if they did, it’s understandable that she wants her team to be emotionally invested there. Especially since they want to build the department’s future around us.

But that enthusiastic “yes” ain’t happening. As any person in my boat knows, there isn’t much of anything in your life that could get that reply.

And as someone who is the furthest thing from a 9 to 5 worker, I’m that much further removed from caring. At some point, that might show. You’ll see most people at my level there (almost management) or above sometimes sport the company collared shirt. So eventually, it may be noticed that I never do.

Or that I don’t even own one. Or never will, unless my job would somehow depend on it for a function or whatever. Even the thought of putting one of those on makes me smirk derisively.

At this point, I probably sound like a terrible employee. Not the case, though. I will do what you ask me to, and do it accurately and efficiently. I won’t call off or cause issues with others. And even though I may be more apt to stretch my lunch a little or sneak in some personal time on my phone, you’ll still be able to count on me to be prepared for whatever comes my way in the office.

But is that cause I’m a company person and invested in how the organization does? No. It’s because it’s the right thing to do. If you pay me a good salary for my position and treat me well, you deserve that value in return.

Just don’t expect me to be “excited” about it.

Broken, part two

It’s been six weeks now since I started the latest phase of things.

The new job isn’t bad. At first it was a struggle to get my mind caught up to anywhere near the level of knowledge necessary (as I simply didn’t have the experience that was expected for this position). But I’m getting acclimated faster than those problems show, and the department has seemed focused since I started on building things for the future around us. The thought of me, or anyone else on the team, not being the right choice is the furthest thing from their mind.

So chances are I’ll be alright there going forward. And during that time, I’ve also found that there are better opportunities to make back some of my lost success too. At least in the short term. And while my financial situation isn’t close to where it should be, I still have the available capital to take advantage of those opportunities.

It wouldn’t nearly cover all the damage I’ve done over the last 15 years, but at least it’d be a start. And enough to matter.

Why the title of this entry then? Because of the latest setback. And this one hurt more than most. Here’s why.

In addition to the other positive factors just mentioned, I’d also tried to focus much more on eliminating a main trigger that causes my bouts of destructive behavior. And at first, there seemed to be improvement. Because the first couple times I had the frustrations that lead to such behavior, I’d been able to cut off the damage faster than I normally would.

At least it’s a first step, I thought. And hoped that I could continue that trend until I eliminated the behavior permanently, especially since I now had the necessary psychological frame of mind of realistic hope to significantly rebuild in the long run.

So for the first time in my adult life, it seemed like I might really have a chance to beat my main demon. Which would finally mean the highly elusive (and very questionable) goal of feeling good about myself and being successful again.

But then about a week ago, it happened again. When it didn’t need to. Out of the blue, you just don’t have the discipline this time to hold on. And the same degeneracy happens.

And as mentioned, this time it hurt that much more. Cause for once, I really thought: maybe I’m finally in a position to turn the corner and beat this.

Not to be.

Luckily it didn’t destroy my chances to pursue things going forward (naturally a big dent, but not a crushing blow). But it’s much more about what it signifies:

That I’m still not strong enough. And if I’m not now (with more going for my chances), then will I ever be?

Since then, I’ve spent the last week holding on. While a further collapse hasn’t happened yet, unfortunately it still feels like I’m stuck back in the same hopeless frame of mind about my discipline.

What next? I really don’t know. Just have to show up every day at the office Monday through Friday and act like nothing’s wrong. Everyone at work has no idea about my struggles.

If they only knew.

The next stage

After a year living in my “target” city, I’ve now moved back across the country again (to help out with family matters). Found an apartment and will get moved in this week. It’s 30 minutes from the family’s house, which is close enough to always be easily available and make this major relocation worth it….while still giving the space that I really need.

Everyone keeps telling me not to think back or torture myself about leaving my old place again. But obviously that’s much easier said than done. At age 47, every year spent away from “home” is going to feel like one that I can’t afford to lose. And it could be many years before I can go back for good.

I’ll try to help my state of mind by making one or two long trips back per year. It won’t be nearly the same, but at least that will make the transition easier.

Still though….I’m concerned about how I’m going to react to this in the long run. It hasn’t hit me completely yet, but it will once I get completely settled in to the new apartment. A depressed person with little structure in life (living in an area that has too many toxic components) isn’t exactly in the best spot to improve and enjoy his situation.

So I’m not sure if I will be able to make the most of this. Or even avoid a much worse downward spiral.

Guess I’ll find out soon enough.

Family and stability (or lack thereof)

Been thinking some lately about how the absence of having people close in my life (especially family) has evolved over the years. And how that’s going to affect my future at this stage in life.

I grew up with mom’s side of the family; dad’s side lived two hours away and we never really meshed much. Lots of only children on that half of the family tree (including myself), so it was just dad, mom, her parents, and her aunt.

Starting with my teen years, naturally you start losing your older family members one by one. First my maternal grandfather, then her aunt and her mother. As you can imagine, that made things a good bit different.

Then about 15 years went by before I started to lose my dad’s side. Even though I wasn’t that close to them (other than my father), it still has some effect. In just a few years (during my early to mid 40s), my grandfather, father, and grandmother all passed too.

So now, at 47, my mother is all who’s left. I’m single with no kids, no siblings, and just an aunt and uncle (dad’s brother and sister) who don’t even know me that well.

Basically it’s just mom now.

And despite how many things about her are toxic and drive me crazy (and the fact that I’m so emotionally distant from the whole world), she provides one thing for me who no one else can at this point: stability. Having her constant involvement in my life keeps me and my volatile choices somewhat in check. Not entirely by ANY means, but enough to really help. That help doesn’t come from much direct involvement; it’s more about wanting to avoid the shame of her seeing me destroy myself too much (and also how that would affect her). All that matters is that it works, though.

But as you can imagine, this makes my longer-term future even more precarious that it would be otherwise (given my life situation). Because once she is gone, the main barrier that keeps me from more severe life lows will vanish. Obviously that is very concerning.

Especially since I still never find the willpower (or care enough) to try and improve myself and tame any of my demons. And I don’t know if that will ever change.

What IS known is the consequences if it doesn’t.

Rush, rush

“I wanna see…..I wanna see you get free with me”

It was the summer of 1991, and I was fortunate enough to be on a Carnival cruise (family vacation). At the back of the ship’s nightclub with some other teenagers that I’d met a few days prior. We shouldn’t have even been in there, but the DJ had been generous enough to let us use that back area of the dance floor each night.

And we took full advantage. I still remember being locked in a slow dance with a girl named Jenny (as Paula Abdul sung her great new ballad that was being heard everywhere). The girl I would soon have my first kiss later that night.

I was 16 years old. My whole life was in front of me.

While the “and without a care in the world” cliche doesn’t apply (I never had that kind of easy and happy teenage life, other than rare escapes like that cruise)…..the one that does is how the future still seemed bright.

Never did I ever guess that I’d be typing this kind of blog entry 30 years later. Especially in this frame of mind about myself and the much more depressive and troubling life situation and future than I ever could’ve expected.

Not to mention off the heels of a huge pandemic scare a couple years ago, and fresh into a new huge worldwide conflict scare just a couple hours ago.

So now that I’ve brought back the Paula memory, it might be time to channel another popular ’80s artist next. Mr. Eddie Money.

“I wanna go back and do it all over. But I can’t go back, I know.

I wanna go back. Cause I’m feelin’ so much older.

But I can’t go back, I know”

As the loner mentality deepens…

With my future looking more uncertain than it ever has lately (and that’s saying something), I find myself shutting out the world even more than I normally do.

Outside of immediate family, the only person I’ve kept in regular touch with recently is the woman who I’ve known a long time and have the strong “opposites attract” connection with (and even that isn’t daily). Other than her, I just have no interest in talking with anyone right now. Especially any communication on a regular basis.

It’s led to just ghosting some people who I’m somewhat close to. With two of them, it’s also because they recently said something that really rubbed me the wrong way…..comments that I never would’ve expected from them. Normally I would either brush past it or confront them (and see if it can be worked out), but not while I’m in this frame of mind.

When anyone asks if I’m alright, I’ll eventually give them an ok. And then just hint that I want to be left alone. So that’s as far as it goes.

This has happened once before at a similar level, but then I snapped out of it pretty quick. That was much different though, because I was in my late 20s then. So despite that particular deeper depressive pit, I still subconsciously knew that there was plenty of time for possibly better years ahead.

But at this stage in life, that’s not the case anymore.

I still occasionally make quick, quirky comments on people’s FB pages and stuff like that. Both friends and strangers. Guess it’s the need for at least one outlet apart from my self-imposed solitary confinement. Though in keeping with my usual MO, it’s just surface musings about various topics.

Because it’ll always be just me looking on at the outside world.

And barely (well, now JUST barely) being a part of it.