Futility.

It's not so much what happened, it's how it happened.

If I fail at something, I want to know that it's a part of something greater, and that I could have done better - just not now. I want to know that I made mistakes that I could not have fixed before my failure, but that I will never make them again because of the failure.

I think I'm beyond that now.

Writing this blog has heightened my awareness of just how cyclical my life is. Compare the following posts:

http://jpsdream.blogspot.com/2014/01/on-regrouping.html AND http://jpsdream.blogspot.com/2012/05/death-exile-and-magus.html

That's just one example of the repetition of my problems. In the end, I really believe I don't care that I'm not dating anyone. I believe my present frustration and sadness has nothing to do with the fact I got snubbed again, after 5 months of preparation. I don't think I'm even really bothered that the only person I've been interested in a long time is dating someone now. Other empathetic, interesting, fun, intuitive women exist. I've met plenty (even if none of them liked me like that). But what I do know for sure is that I am so put out by the futility of it all...the futility of this cycle. It seems like nothing I do really matters. I have tried every strategy I've heard of, I've approached it at all kinds of angles, I've pursued women who were friends before I liked them and I've pursued women I just met. I've worked through fear, discouragement, and despair to do all of this, and none of it really mattered.

Is it really any surprise if I say that I would really rather not bother with it anymore, even if I want to get married?

The same goes for anything else, really. The only three things I really care about are friends, love, and God. And of course, those are the three things that I have the biggest problems with. It has never really made any difference how much effort I put into any sort of strategy or lack of strategy. Things always turn out however they were meant to turn out. And the result is rarely anything I'm pleased with.

If I'm supposed to only meet people who really don't live up to what I always hope for in a friendship, then why can't I just be someone who needs different things from a friend? Why did I become someone who craves a friendship based only on how people feel, and not something easy like a love of sports? Why do I want to have friends who reach out to me, instead of friends who stay in their own world? It just doesn't make any sense to me that I would become a person exactly unsuited to their environment, and then find it impossible to escape it.

I have really met my limit many times, and always pushed beyond it. I'm there now. I've had enough of life. Someday, I will be glad I am alive. And then I will suffer disappointment again, and realize that I just reached another point in the cycle. And in the end, nothing will change. Because nothing ever really changes. New job, new city, all the same problems. And none of my dreams have come true. It's hard to believe when I started this blog, I still believed in dreams. That's why I gave this blog the title I gave it, and end each post with a variation of the same sentence. But now, I don't believe in dreams anymore. I think dreams are a lie that serve as a foundation for false hope. I believe some people never get what they want from life.

I believe I will be one of them.

There was a dream that I dreamed, a dream that was no dream at all.

Melee.

Melee: a confused struggle.

I'm in a melee. I'm struggling and I don't know who I'm even fighting anymore. Myself? Someone else? Satan? God?

It seems lately like every time I write one of these posts, it's to undo the last one. Am I just crazy, or does my life really change this quickly? Do I really gain so much only to lose it a few days later?

I don't know what I've done, but I'm getting punished anyway. I feel like the world owes me an apology. I am trying to cope and stay happy but this is really something else. As tempted as I am to blame one person, this is not the fault of one person...this is just a lot of people doing little things over time. I am worn out of it. I have talked incessantly about all of the things that have bothered me in my life. I am tired of it. All I can do is just wait until I can move on, and I can hold on to the good friends I have until they move on.

I did so much, and it never mattered. But I didn't know that I could get hurt by doing nothing, too.

There was a dream that I dreamed, a dream to see the face of the enemy.

Tiny threads.

It's safe to say I feel like junk again.

It had been pretty good for a while - I had a nice week and a half or so break from my sadness which I used to really revitalize my social life in a way I had no longer thought possible. I think having a true friend has really helped  - a wonderful woman of God who has deigned to be an excellent, loyal friend.

I'm really hoping this will just go away on its own - after all, I've spent so much time saying that if I only had one really loyal friend, I would be able to bounce back from anything. But boy, does this hurt. I can't face this kind of rejection without feeling at least a little sad. It would help if I didn't dwell on it so much.

It's times like this where I wonder if I really can keep taking this sort of thing. I think, "Is my sanity hanging by tiny threads like I feel, or am I just being dramatic?" I tend to conclude the latter. Still, just when things start to look like they're changing, they become the same again. A little dig here, a stab there...I go lower and lower, and just when I think things can't get worse they do.

Before I write a blog on self-pity instead of my dreams (as this blog started out, long ago, if you can believe, and to be honest I really don't want to be the kind of person who wallows in self-pity, that's disgusting to me) I want to say that I really think that having this loyal friend around I mentioned has really helped. Whenever I'm really starting to get upset about things that have happened (or not happened that I feel should have happened) it's been nice dwelling on the fact that I have someone who really wants to make time to talk to me - about anything. It doesn't even really matter to me that it's not a romantic relationship...this is someone I really trust who considers me a close friend and includes me in the things that she does. Wants me around, and notices when I'm not. That sort of thing.

That makes it better.

There was a dream that I dreamed, a dream for a long rope of sanity tied to a true friend.

Lies, tears, then anger.

I don't often get angry, but when I know I have good reason to it's rather easy.

But anger is never first - at first I'm just sad. I'm happy about that because I think it's proper to mourn an injustice before having the anger to rectify it.

I'm angry, world, and I don't care who knows it. I've been forgotten about, discarded, ostracized, disrespected, and now...lied to. Lies, damn lies, are something I have a terrible time forgiving. There is no worse thing to treat me with than deception. Especially when that deception concerns something so close to my heart.

I think one of the wisest quotes from the Dark Tower is from one of the villains. "Only enemies tell the truth...friends and lovers lie endlessly, caught in the web of regard." I don't know who my friend is trying to gain regard from, but it's certainly not me.

There was a dream that I dreamed, a dream for honesty.

The chronic thinker.

I've concluded that stopping the downward spiral of thinking that is my brain is as difficult as stopping a train with a flyswatter. Prevention is the best medicine.

A chronic thinker is someone who relentlessly contemplates everything. Thoughts can run from anxiety-provoking thoughts like "I wonder if we're in tornado alley? I better check. OHMYGOSH WE ARE, I GOTTA GO MAKE A SHELTER" to depressing thoughts like "They haven't called. I guess they're not interested. No one calls. So no one is interested in spending time with me." It likely has little to do with intelligence and more to do with emotion.

Observe: Last weekend was a nightmare for the chronic thinker I am. I had already been starting to get quite upset by how quickly many of my friendships had disappeared once I was no longer around to try and keep them going. How little it seemed most people thought of me unless I was right in their faces. So, I emailed a long lost friend and my last girlfriend, just innocently asking how they were and what they were up to. Nothing more. Then, I had to take part in my friend's wedding. It was an honor and a nightmare. For one, I had to see my last girlfriend, who seemed to be virtually inseparable from her new boyfriend. I felt as though I missed her. I began to make the connection between her and the last time I was happy, realizing again what a support she had been in my life where friends and family were failing me. I kept trying to remind myself that it was not her I missed, but the loving support. No use - my thoughts kept bouncing back and forth like a bouncy ball in a concrete room. Wondering where I'd gone wrong. Thinking about what we had been together. Hating myself for thinking about that because I knew I was right to end the relationship and it was the best thing for us.

Continuing on, I thought about how I lost a lot of the friends I had when I broke up with her. How they cared more about her than about me, even though I was hurt, too. How none of them except the guy I was friends with before we dated tried to be my friend anymore. Making the connection between that and my current misery. Reflecting on how it was my own choice, my own unselfish desire to do the right thing that led to us breaking up and destroying what I did not know was my biggest support group in life. Reflecting on if I hadn't broken up with my last girlfriend we might be engaged/almost engaged by now...and that we'd be planning our wedding. Thinking again about how pathetic this all is and I should be happy with myself for just doing the right thing and continuing to be myself.

Repeat.

Wrote a letter to a girl I loved and respected before she moved away. Tried to keep it brief, friendly, and optimistic. Failed. Cried miserably the entire time I wrote it. Reflected on how every time I write this girl a letter I don't stop crying until I finish the letter. Told a friend I missed her. Wondered what might have happened if I had seen her the way I see her now months ago. Tried not to think about it. Failed that, too. Told another friend, one of the few to actually still really care about me, to stop texting me everyday to make sure I was OK even though I appreciated it because it was making me too emotionally attached. She agreed. Reflected on how wretched doing the right thing can make you feel sometimes. Hated myself for not just being happy I did the right thing. Went to sleep.

And woke up...fine. Fine! I've been fine all day. What's changed?

I'll tell you. I didn't start thinking about it. So I haven't thought of this stuff all day until now. This is just one of those things I'm still figuring out about myself. If I can keep myself away from the things that trigger me (Facebook, certain people, some texts) I don't start thinking about that stuff...and I remain OK.

Now it's written, so now I can't forget. I said I was the only one who can help me, and now I am.

There was a dream that I dreamed, a dream to slow it down.

The Hardest Part.

And the hardest part was letting go, not taking part...Was the hardest part...

http://youtu.be/6Dod1zQuleM

Every once in a while, I'll find a song that I really like. It just...fits. It makes sense for me to play this song and like it. This is that song.

I do not like writing posts like this. I know that people perceive writing like this as passive-aggressive and overly emotional. Too much information. It helps me to have an easily accessible chronicle of thoughts throughout the years. That is enough reason for me to indulge myself. I don't expect people to understand, least of all those closest to me - family, friends, etc. That said, I will move on.

This song for me is about futility. In the past half year I have felt defeated. The hardest part about about it is  having to let go. I always want to be more like Vegeta from Dragon Ball Z. "NO! I WILL NOT BE DEFEATED!" But it's easier when all you need to do is train and get stronger and then try to punch the bad guy again. This is different.

My last post chronicles my feelings about people well enough for one to understand the importance of family, friends, and even acquaintances to me. This post is more about the effects of the futility in trying to achieve some sense of sentiment among those I know.

It seems more often than not my relations to other people involves more letting go of rather than taking part in their lives. Often I feel this is the hardest part of my life...as goes the song. I just have to swallow my pride, swallow my anger/sadness (I could feel it go down...bittersweet I could taste in my mouth).

It is utterly futile for me...always...in trying to have some semblance of constant support in my life. But I have no choice but to accept it. Life has to go on. If it is true that in a year, I will move far away and no longer have any friends, so be it. I had a dating relationship and that failed. I tried to have another and that is failing and will fail again, I'm sure. I am beaten. It is useless (Oh and I, I wish that I could work it out). Just the utter uselessness of all my efforts to change the way my relationships go. Nothing ever changes. That's the hardest part.

But I know that there really is no changing other people. I harp on this time and again: no one owes me anything. If people don't want to believe that their surface level understanding of their friends is not enough, then nothing I can say or do will change that (Everything I do, it just comes undone). If people would much rather be out of my company than reciprocate my friendship, then they will have that (You really broke my heart). I'm tired of begging people to be my friend anyway. Watching as they live their perfectly happy lives without me in it. That is their right and I have no reason to be offended. But yet I am, and I hate it.

It's just God and me. Always (You're silver lining the clouds). But "it is not good for man to be alone." I have real friends, it is true...but they are so few. Most of the time it is just a matter of waiting until the next time I may see them again.

Now, my only motivation in continuing thus is to simply be the kind of person who does the things I do. I go to mass because I want to be the kind of person who goes to mass, not because I want to. I go to class and do my schoolwork because I want to be the kind of person who works even though they don't feel like it. I continue to (try) being charitable and loving to people I am angry at because I want to be the kind of person who is charitable and loving to people he feels have done him wrong. Nothing I do...do I do it because I feel it will actually change my circumstances (I wonder what it's all about).

There it is. I know this is probably a bad idea to put this on the Internet but I just don't care. I am doing what I want to do.

There was a dream that I dreamed, a dream for an easy part.

Seeing the Future.

I think every man gets at a point in his life (at least once) where he realizes that the choices he is making may lead him to either exhilarating happiness or anguish. I think I am at one of these points. However, I think either result is fine by me. Allow me to explain.

Should I continue along in my prayer and discernment of my vocation, there is a high likelihood that I will end up at a point where my future is contingent on someone else's decision rather than my own. It may be a few weeks, or even a few months from now. But no matter what, it is certain that either result would leave me in tears: of joy or grief.

If in joy, well, then that's obviously great. In grief, though, there is good in that, too. I don't think people understand how wonderful sadness can be. There is a different kind of joy in knowing that you've given something your all and it didn't turn out quite the way you expected - because as long as you've done the right thing, you know you will be happy again. And when the moment comes when you've shed all your tears...those are the best days. The days when you have hope again. That is a wonderful feeling.

I will look forward to this future...I can't predict anything but I can see that whatever happens, as long as I remain in Christ there will be joy again.

There was a dream I dreamed, a dream for great hope for the future.

Why, God...WHY??

Why are you so good to me? :)

To think that only a few weeks ago I was practically wishing for death, and now everything is turning around. And I really don't deserve much. In fact, if you, the reader, knew everything about me, you might say that God has very good reasons to punish me.

But that's not the way God works. Consistently throughout my life, He has worked to bring me back towards Him. He has, time and time again, turned my blunders into blessings. I'm completely in awe at how everything has worked out.

I guess that's really all I have to say today. :)

There was a dream that I dreamed, and that dream was that all could see the wonderful mercy and love of God.

The true nature of depression...

I have decided to treat sadness as an illusion on the other side of happiness.

Regardless of whether or not I'm bipolar as I think I may very well be, it was very easy for me to learn that the main difference between myself when I'm happy and myself when I'm sad is perspective.

When I was sad, I could only see the negative in my life. I totally ignored the things that made me happy, or could make me happy. However, without any aspect of my life changing at all, I can become very happy by simply focusing on even the smallest sources of happiness in my day. It's not easy, but it's possible! I prove it to myself every time I have a mood swing.

So, if my mood is merely a reflection of whatever is on my mind, I can control my mood by intentionally blinding myself to my problems. I can break the illusion of sadness by adjusting the mirrors, so to speak!

A note of importance: This is easier said than done. I'm not yet sure whether I will be able to do this with any sure success...but it's definitely worth trying. I will probably mention this again someday.

There was a dream that I dreamed, and that dream was that the illusion of sadness would be broken for good.