�
2015-04-29 - 6:22 a.m.
They tell the gay and lesbian kids “it gets better”. I guess they’re talking about the harassment and bullying that that set of outsider kids gets. But I don’t think they’re talking about emotional pain. Or anxiety and depression. Maybe they are. Maybe what they’re saying is, it gets better once you grow up, get a good job, with a good insurance plan, and realize you need some psych help and get it. Maybe that’s what they mean.
The thing is, I don’t think it does get better. Depending on what “it” is. You can certainly self-medicate the fuck out of yourself. You can get that psych help, and tamp that shit down. You can ignore it. Deny it. And you can distract yourself from it with whatever shiny objects take your fancy. But does it get better? Or does it dig in deeper, and spread further, like some skin parasite?
For myself, I’m feeling pretty hopeless. I just spent over a decade with my emotions relatively tamped down, pushed back, denied, and distracted from. And what did it get me?
I mean, just ‘cause you don’t feel the loneliness doesn’t mean it’s not there. Just because you can’t tell life is basically meaningless, and why the fuck even bother, your life’s purpose doesn’t just knock on the door. If you’re blinded to the realization that you can’t remember anyone in your life who loved you deeply, passionately, and with conviction, it just hides that realization, it doesn’t change history.
Ultimately you have a couple choices. You cope, or you don’t.
In my case it looks like I can choose to go back to masking all this with antidepressants, and look forward to a less painful, but sexless, and probably, continued loveless, existence.
Or I can opt out.
This is what I’m struggling with.
I don’t like these two choices. I hope there are others. But at three o’clock in the morning, when, really, all you want to do is be asleep, but you can’t sleep, and you can’t stop crying, the choices look very limited.
***************
�
So, how do you like them apples?