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Greg [userpic]

Let's See If I Can Sneak This By

March 11th, 2009 (01:06 am)

current location: San Francisco, CA
current mood: *sigh*
current song: "Satellites" - Dave Matthews Band

What's most interesting is that as I get older, the feelings I associate with being in a "bad place" become less and less easy to articulate. It used to be that I would be purposefully cryptic in order to let people know that I was anxious/depressed without having to go into the sinful details of what's causing it.

Irony of ironies, I'm now at an interesting point in my life where the very idea of being mentally out of balance has become the source of my anxiety and depression.

A mental hypochondriac, if you will.

Things, in a nutshell, haven't felt right. A nagging sense of being depressed lingers in my head daily. Usually I can ignore it and have it become mundane in the scope of my hectic lifestyle. However, there are times when it rears up and I'm overtaken by this profound sadness. And with this sadness comes the anxiety. The two basically feed off of each-other.

I worry that I'll never feel "okay" again. Its these concepts of being mentally "healthy" that have begun to spiral through my brain. I find myself contrasting and comparing how I presently feel with how I felt in the past, and there seems to be a large discrepancy. Was I truly more content a year ago? Or have I idealized the past to make myself feel worse about the present?

When I step back, I seem to be living in a perpetual fog. The only two explanations are A) I'm clinically depressed, or B) my fear of being clinically depressed makes me go through the feelings of actually being depressed.

With me so far? That makes one of us.

I take the medications in an effort to stay stable. Without them, I fear I am nothing but an incoherent anxious mess, unable to come to any reasonable conclusions because I'm too busy contemplating my irrational fear.

To be numb or fearful? That's the question.

This too shall pass.

Greg [userpic]

Back from the Edge (I had sex with U2)

April 21st, 2006 (08:41 am)

current location: Work
current mood: recovering
current song: Pooooo-kaaaaaaay-MOOOOOON!

And I'm back.

Many of you (or possibly none of you) may have been wondering where I've been. Allow me to fill you in briefly.

For the past month and a half or so, I've just been ... not well. In a bad place, mentally. It started, like so many of my favourite breakdowns have, with a notion. A notion that quickly spread into a full-blown crisis. OCD-erific. Because of that, it definitely felt like I was on the edge of losing it completely. I'm probably over-exaggerating, but that's what it felt like.

So that being said ... the typical effect on my life was not wanting to go out or communicate with anyone in my circle. The last thing I wanted to do was fake it and pretend that I was fine when I wasn't. So I basically went to work and came home. The monotony of adulthood is anything but conducive to mental collapse. Who knew?

So, in an ever present of fit of cliche, I decided to go see a shrink. A real one. Not some prat with a stupid moustache, an accent I can't place, and an annoying long thumbnail who;ll give me good (read: great) drugs. So yeah. Did that. Really fucking awesome. Whoever says it doesn't do any good is either lying or a Jedi.

So now I'm slowly climbing out of the hole. Not 100% yet but definitely getting there. So now you know.

In other news, I have no idea what I'm doing with my life.

But it's Friday. And I have the Pokemon theme in my head. And the weather is beautiful.

Greg [userpic]

(no subject)

February 12th, 2006 (09:33 pm)

heyyy you guys! its me, GREG!

today, jane and kendall made us some delicious beans and rice...
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but, we were still hungry! so i made some jello!!
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heyyyy its great! PARTY OVER HERE...IN AWESOMETOWN!!

Greg [userpic]

Fumbling Toward Mediocrity

January 10th, 2006 (08:32 pm)

current mood: wiped
current song: "Your Body is a Wonderland" - John Mayer

Reporting live from the new apartment, located in ghetto ... er ... SUNNY ... no, well, not really sunny at night ... eh. I'm in Brooklyn.

Thus far, all has been smooth. Moving in took all of ten minutes, and I was soon officially a 904-1A resident. That sounds vaguely prison-like.

Roommates .. awesome. And ALL cute. Potential problems.

Because of the awesome that was just stated, going to bed has become something of a problem. It's the equivalent of the kid who's parents are throwing a swingers/coke party downstairs. He CAN'T NOT go see what's happening!

Yeah ... definitely have been falling asleep at work for ten second intervals at a time. Not that anyone notices. I don't think. Those cameras are tricky. I'm so getting fired.

So yeah ... my neighborhood. It's ... scary. And it really irritates me that after all my liberal chest-thumping, I still become the scared little white boy walking the three blocks from the subway to my house. I know statistically my chances of not getting "whupped" are good, but after being regalled with tales of my roommates getting mugged ... I don't know ... I'm paranoid. I hate being scared. It annoys me.

Rest assured, faithful readers ... the mugging entry will be legendary.

And I'm out this mothafucka.

Greg [userpic]

Three Years of Unequivicol Online Bitching

January 3rd, 2006 (09:45 pm)

current mood: getting there
current song: "Tymps" - Fiona Apple

It'd be wrong not to say something on the Livejournal's anniversary.

Things are ... progressing, but in a sort of ... I dunno, meaningless way. I signed the lease to my apartment tonight, which is awesome. Brooklyn ... finally. I officially move in on Saturday, unless of course God decides to fuck with me again. He's so mean to me. I should pray for Mom to slap him. She would too. Or at least fuck up the Virgin Mary. There's no way you can throw down if you've never fucked. That has to be crossing a line.

I'm going to attend an info session for the Terry Schreiber Acting School next Monday, on the advice of a bartender. A cute bartender. They're the new prophets, or so I read in the Village Voice.

I've never read the Village Voice.

Work is ... the same. It goes by quick for the most part. I totally heart crossword puzzles, and I look forward to the day that I complete one. Today I came close. It was super exciting.

A little part of me died writing that.

More book reccommendations, please.

New Year's ... 6.14. Got pretty smashed, did drugs, got thrown by a metal head, lost at flip cup, casually rebuffed advances from someone who got progressively more annoying with every effeminate gesture/rant, watched gay porn with a large group of people (strange), and discovered that while jello shots are good on their own, with whip cream ... they become a gelantanous version of nirvana.

Six Feet Under ... I've watched the entire second season this past week. It is the best acted show I've ever seen. I love Lauren Ambrose so fucking much.

I thought about sex with Rob alot today. Not so good.

Oh yeah ... I don't have a boyfriend anymore. I'm an idiot. Forget the second half of the last entry. I'm tempted to delete it just because I'm staggered as to how much of an absolute asshole I am. I should be slapped ... like the Virgin Mary.

Aaaaaaand we've come full circle.

Greg [userpic]

Thoughts ... in no particular order.

November 23rd, 2005 (03:33 pm)

current mood: thinky
current song: "Megalomaniac" - Incubus

Anger is a funny thing. I'm not one who is prone to it. Frustration? Yes. Absolutely. But pure anger? Maybe a handful of times. Funny I mention hand in that context, seeing as though during those times, I would hit any flat, hard surface that was around.

I forgot where I was going with that.

I'm running on empty. Going through the motions. I've literally been on auto-pilot the last week and a half. My thoughts have been scattered and disjointed, and I can't really focus on anything that doesn't completely interest me. That's a given anyway, though.

Pier One is irritating. I hate the fact that I'm manual labor. I mean, I guess it's good in a "getting your hands dirty, find out what you're made of" kind of way. But ... I'm surrounded by people who's heads can be destroyed with the utterance of any big word.

As the days get colder, my thoughts more often drift to him and warmer seasons. I'm supposed to hate him. Or at least dislike him. But I can't. I read his Myspace profile every single day, pouring over every single comment and picture, trying to find ... no, I guess connect with what I miss about him. I mean, the easy answer is the physicality. But am I so completely dependent on being touched that I'm putting myself through this? Doesn't add up.

The only romantic interest I have follows the pattern that I've become sickeningly familiar with. It's all playing out exactly how it has before, which makes me think of Matt and how shitty I was to him. It's all happening again. How do you spell "self-fufilling prophecy"? I'm falling hard, and in the end, it's going to amount to nothing, I'm going to lose a friendship, and then I can feel free to find the next straight boy to fall for.

I dunno ... he just makes me feel good. It'd be better if I could just go down on him already. What a shit I am.

I've also been thinking on the other side of spectrum. About Candice, and how fucking perfect she is for me. I believe the classic classification is "the one that got away". Fits. I kept imagining myself with her, and how happy we'd actually be. It'd be a low maintenence relationship, something I am grossly unfamiliar with. Maybe I'm just pining over one who's unattainable. That's me: trying to reach the moon with a stepladder.

To go to Cali, to not go to Cali. That is the question.

I've applied to the Academy of Dramatic Arts. Apparently, they were really impressed with my resume (HUH?!) and want to schedule an audition. I need one more letter of personal reference and my college transcripts, and that'll be it.

I don't ever remember thinking twice about going to college. Going back? 'Nother story.

Rah, my manager at Blockbuster: "You're the best fucking employee I've got."

Egoooo boost ... GO!

Greg [userpic]

I Only Specialize in Unrequited Love

November 15th, 2005 (08:27 pm)

straylight Romeo: i only specialize in unrequited love.
Illusions NY: see that, I can relate to.
Illusions NY: why is it that we can TOTALLY accept each other's love?
straylight Romeo: because we know each-other more deeply than anyone else on earth.
Illusions NY: aren't there others either of us can let in?
straylight Romeo: as long as they have no romantic feelings for us whatsoever.

I whine alot about love. How I want it, how amazing it is, and especially how much it's hurt me.

Tonight, I broke a boy's heart. He was nothing but nice to me. Appreciated every single good quality that I have. He saw me, or at least was well on his way.

I was butterflies for him.

But he wasn't for me.

Despite his being perfect on paper ... it just didn't feel right. I got freaked out by someone actually liking me.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Can I really only fall for the ones that I don't have a chance with? Is it an unconscious sabotage on my part? Do I honestly fear being close with anyone so much that I'm only attracted to those I know will never feel anything towards me?

It's becoming a strangely viable option.

Because of my cavalier attitude, someone is crying tonight.

Karma is a bitch. And I deserve everything I get.

I'm sorry.

Greg [userpic]

A Little Update

November 1st, 2005 (10:07 pm)

current mood: gloomy
current song: "Oldflame" - The Arcade Fire

It occurs to me that I have gone a couple weeks without writing an entry.

I haven't done that in a long, long time.

What can I say?

There's literally nothing new happening.

OH! Wait. That's a lie. I work at Blockbuster now. Which is kind of rad. I've come to the conclusion that I'm a movie nazi. Go fig. I love telling people that the movie they're holding sucks hard and reccommending something actually worth. Which has been Me, You and Everyone We Know most of the time. Matthew was correct. So fucking phenomenal. See it if you haven't.

Ahh, what else, what else.

I'm actually managing to save up money, which is sort of new for me. What to do with said money ... remains to be seen. There's no one to really get an apartment with. A lot of potentials, no definites. I'm not compromising here. It's either Brooklyn or Queens. Pick one. I'll live with you. Just get me the fuck out of this town. Please.

My hair is getting unruly. Meaning it's time for a trim. This is what's passing for news in my journal nowadays. Fucking pathetic.

It's apparent that I need a significant other, if only for the fact that I need to get over A) ex-boyfriends, B) straight boy crushes, and C)crushes on my 40 year old married boss.

X-Men Legends II. If you ain't doin' it ... umm ... do it.

In dire need of new music/book/movie reccomendations.

And human contact. Don't forget that one. That one's a biggie.

I'm so fucking close to deleting this journal. For no reason at all other that I just got the urge to.

Okay it's gone.

Greg [userpic]

Sleepless Rant

October 17th, 2005 (07:46 pm)

current mood: lost

I just ... have no words. There are a few trite adjectives to describe my mood right now, the most pertinent being sleep-deprived.

I closed Starbucks last night. Slept for three hours. Then opened it. I hate that fucking place. There's alot of passive aggressive bullshit, cliquiness, schedule conflicts, and a million things to do that have to be done within the span of hours, catering to a number of employee/manager standards.

I want to quit. I'm going to quit. I had an interview with Blockbuster today. I'm praying I get in there. It cannot possibly be worse. Nothing feels right.

Although ... in the grand things of Greg life, it doesn't matter. I am ... so fucking ... depressed? No ... but borderline. Dissatisfied still fits the bill. I cannot believe where my life is right now. I'm doing exactly what I always said I never would. I'm trapped in a never-ending tedium of work, home, work, home, work, home. I have no friends here. New Paltz seems like a million years ago. Everyone I love seems to be gone, or at least doing something better than hanging out with me.

I'm trapped in this literal box, with a father who seems to be growing rapidly tired of my stasis, a stepmother who looks at me as though I was a painting she rather not have hanging, and a little brother who's childish curiousity seems to have no end.

Trapped, trapped, trapped.

I want to go back to school, but it seems like almost a surrender to the forces of being Grown-Up. It doesn't seem like it's going to happen.

I'm so tired. My brain is like mush, and gravity seems to be pulling on me extra hard.

Greg [userpic]

Life without Kristen

October 10th, 2005 (12:47 pm)

current mood: mourning ... kind of.

Kristen has left the building. The building meaning this shit of a town.

Emotional Analysis: Nothing major to report thus far. I really wish our last weekend together could've been more ... UMF-y. Between work and horrendous Long Beach bars (complete with obligatory stripper past her prime waving her bare, disturbed-looking breasts too and fo), it just wasn't that memorable. We said our good-byes last night, and it still just didn't feel real. However, the image of her waving good-bye to me on her porch combined with having "Finish Line" by Yellowcard randomly play on my Ipod was indicative of me most definitely living in some sort of a movie.

I haven't cried. Should be coming soon though.

I close this rather shoddy and dead entry with a quote that will save it, with some parts edited for content...

"[Kristen Daly] ... who crawled through a river of shit and came out clean on the other side. [Kristen Daly] ... headed for the [South]. Those of us who knew [her] best talk about [her] often. I swear the stuff [she] pulled. Sometimes it makes me sad, though, [Kristen] being gone. I have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice ... but still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone ... I guess I just miss my friend."

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