Monday, June 7, 2010

46

The most impacting moment I've had in my life hasn't been an experience. It hasn't been a person. Instead, it's been of my own creation.
I've come to realize that I am unable to carry on living the way I have been. I've been coldly carrying on in a routine. I wake up in order to work out and go to class. I eat to survive to the next day where I repeat this routine. It's a case of life losing lustre and wine losing taste. I've been pained and to compromise this pain I've been locking away empathy and sympathy underneath the facade of course work. I've been working myself into a stupor.
Over the past two semesters it's been a gradual decline. I found myself startlingly single and alone and at a new college. I made friends as easily as I always do, and proceeded to pass my first semester after a traumatic camping trip and mangled relationships. I spent Winter Break in a semi-comatose pessimism funk in South Carolina and at Georgia Tech after another mangled relationship, this time ruined because of a religious deficit. My intellectual journey continued during the break and into the spring semester where I proceeded to change my trajectory from a slow decline into a miserable spiral into unhappiness.
I begin the semester normally: classes are happening, I'm looking for a job, I get a job, and I have relationships. It sounds great, and initially it was tolerable, but it became stiflingly depressing. I date one guy and realize now, so long after the fact, that he is brilliant but remarkably stupid. It was decent for a bit, and then I am conflicted because of my inability to solidly commit to a relationship due to insecurity. So I leave him for someone else. I enjoy that someone else for a while until I realize incompatibilities that will always remain regardless of how we would discuss and compromise. I realize his degree of stupidity is a unique one. All the technical intelligence in the world can't provide for overall intelligence. There is stupidity in every person, and through dating these men I came to realize how complete this stupidity is.
From there the decline spiraled deeper.
I began seeing myself as something set apart from the typical person. I was perceiving on a plane that I felt others lacked. I still feel that others lack this level of perceptive thought. I'm able to talk to someone casually and know exactly what they're like and be able to draw conclusions about things they refuse to tell me from verbal and physical clues. I've become a mind-reader without the psychic powers. I'm a human lie detector.
Sure, this seems like a neat thing to have. I'll be the first to admit that it is. It's beneficial to me in many ways. I read people quickly and can make judgments about them just as speedily. This is great for acquaintances, but horrible for making friends. It's especially horrible because of how I know that I am on an intellectual level above them. It doesn't help that they tell me how smart I am. I know I'm smart. I'm ridiculously smart. In fact, I'm much smarter than most people I know. When I say "most people I know" I mean all but maybe a handful that I don't even interact with regularly.
Back on topic, though, skipping the rest of the degenerative intelligence tirade, I got involved in another pre-relationship fiasco where I knew it was a bad idea. I fell into the thoughts of "maybe" and "what if" that have never been such a problem in the past. This uncertainly and insecurity has degraded my ability to judge with reason and logic. So I ride this "prelationship" out and it ends in awkwardness and complete retardation. I'm already a short fuse, now I'm a short and more emotionally damaged fuse. Now, because of all the pain I've endured over the past seven months, I am intolerant of emotional abuse. I react harshly to the slightest perceived attack on my emotional stability. I quell this incessant fear with more course work.
I take summer classes. I begin to drown in the schedule I've created for myself. Wake up, work out, speedily shower, race off to class, go to my next class, go home, eat, do homework. I can't remember deviating form this pattern thus far in the summer semester. I'm burned out. I'm bored. I'm tired. I'm unhappy.

...
I'm burned out?
Bored?
Tired?
Unhappy?

Wonderful! This is the first time I've felt like this in quite a long time. I'm actually exhausted. I'm not working myself retarded and still feeling like there's more to be done. I'm actually fed up with doing work. I'm actually unhappy and I'm aware of it! Looking back on the historical aspect of my unhappiness, is it any surprise I couldn't find a man I could date and love exclusively? No! It's all perfectly logical. Everything has come into a new light and the best part of this new light is a new realization: I can be happy now. I've found someone who is enamoured with me. This person wants to be there for me, support me in my endeavors, who encourages me to be beyond what I think I can be, and who makes me feel loved and wanted. I almost passed this over. I'm so glad I stuck with it until I got so worn down that now I can see how far I've fallen. I've been accruing the strength to climb out of this pit for the entire decline into it. Now I'm finally ready, here at the bottom, to say, "No. I'm getting out of here. I'm going to be happy." And damn it.

I'm fucking getting it tooth and nail.

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