Thursday, April 27th, 2006
I've been sleeping a lot, and it feels like I haven't been sleeping at all.
Since my last editorial, a lot has happened and time seemed to go by excessively
quickly. Things haven't been easy to handle lately, and I've been in a pretty foul mood for
I had a nice little trip to the hospital two weeks ago in response to these issues. Since
getting out, things haven't been any better on my part. I find that most of my hobbies
don't have the same appeal anymore. I haven't really been listening to music, drawing,
writing... nothing. I usually love school, but lately, I've been fighting with housemates
when they try to pull me out of bed so I can get out the door on time. I've allowed some
of my school projects to just kinda slip out of my mind, so I've had to turn in a few late
papers, if I've done them at all.
Honestly, I'm not sure why all of this just suddenly emerged from nowhere. I've done some dumb things to myself before, but I
always had enough clarity of mind to keep myself from doing anything too serious. Lately, that clarity doesn't seem to make
enough sense to be helpful in any fashion. I find I care little about any kind of future that I might have, which is probably why my
schoolwork is slipping. Because of my recent absences, I've even had to drop a class. I have very little initiative to do anything
anymore, and the work, piling up as quickly as it does, is overwhelming. It would be difficult enough to keep up if I cared at all. As
it turns out, I'm caring far too little, and things just end up getting worse.
I've always figured that everyone has experienced some time in their lives when they feel like they're just in a pit, and there is no
reason or purpose to anything. It's hard to pull yourself out of it, because you have this weight on your mind and you have no
energy or faith or any amount of care for anyone else. That's about where I've been for the past few months, and nothing seems to
be getting any better. I've been on pretty high levels of medication, and to no avail. I like talking to my therapist, but what I usually
say turns out not to have any meaning whatsoever once I'm out of her office. I've been confused a lot, like my brain isn't even
trying to make sense of things. All in all, I am not in a good place.
I had a bit of an episode yesterday morning after staying awake and stewing about everything all night. I was hardly lucid, and
completely out of my mind. One of my internet friends called me after Yu Stennes gave her my number, and I hardly remember
much of the conversation. I appreciate her attempts to help. I probably sounded like a complete jackass on the phone. And of
course, I couldn't talk to Yu very well, because he was completely plastered, and when that happens, his English falls to shit. I was
taken out of the house shorty after my tantrum started, and proceeded to show up to my parents' house. God only knows why.
I'm pretty sure they're sick of my attitude by now.
I managed to make it to my lit class, though I was little late. The professor of that class is someone that I greatly admire for his
intelligence. I spoke with him after class about my absences, and he was understanding, but stricken when I gave him an honest
answer about the nature of my stay in the hospital. The fact that he talks to me at all is, I suppose, a bit encouraging.
And, because of my failed attempts, spouse and family don't allow me out of their sight. I can't go anywhere or do anything
without being supervised. OCD made the supervision thing an issue enough. Now it's worse. I like my solitude, and this is pissing
me off. I'll be spending my summer days in a mental care hospital program at Porter, due to "trust" issues. Great.
Personal depression aside, I do have a bit of a rant to make based on the subject matter of my Mesoamerican history class. I
think most people that I know regard me as a fairly open-minded kind of person. But I start losing my tolerance when people insist
of giving me the guilt trip from hell because of something I can't control. I didn't say, as an embryo, "Hey, I would like to be white
so I can be an arrogant oppressor!" It doesn't work that way. But the teacher and some of the chicanos in class, as well as guest
speakers, seem to think that way. Each session, I'm usually guilt-tripped. The teacher spoke of a guest speaker who spoke about
civil rights and the like. He got up in front of the crowd, and pointed to the white people and said: "All of you white people, this is
all your fault!" And he was perfectly serious. To me, that is a fiercely generalized accusation. I get upset when these people tell me
that I have oppressed them. That I stole their land. That I'm not welcome in their land. They make the accusation that white
immediately equates to "slave owner", and there have been absolutely none of those in my family heritage. Not a one. He doesn't
know that part of my family was Jewish, who have seen some pretty scary shit as a whole. Another, very large part of my
ancestry were European gypsies. My family were never conquerers. I'm disgusted and insulted by the accustation that I AM an
oppressor. I would never deny that minorities have been mistreated and oppressed in the country. But if these people make a habit
of pointing the accusatory finger at all the wrong people, we're going to start feeling a lot less sympathetic. The other white guys
and I in the class start bristling every time the subject comes up... which happens every class session. We're not racist and never
were, we're not slave owners or oppressors. I'm pretty sure that most of just want to live and let live.
That's my rant for now. God, I'm glad that class is almost over with.