Philotic Web

Dear Bob,

I think that direct communication is for people who give up on telepathy far, far too easily.

Or so I tell myself.

As a reason for not telling my supposed boyfriend that I don't think we're a good couple. Or that I need space. Or that I don't have time right now for a serious relationship. Or something along those lines.

Dear Bob,

I'm afraid that a teacher has a crush on me

again.

Dear Bob,

Have I really let go?
Or am I repressing again. Its never happened this fast before. Okay, that’s a lie, but I can’t shake the idea that I cant deal with the pain of letting her fall away without more then a single word, so I just forgot. And it scares me. Why is it that I can remember hardly anything else then what is neutral, hardly anything that has feeling? The sky was gray again, my favorite color. Like it would rain. Like the day I though I had a chance, when we talked about the beautiful things we had seen in the world. And the dream. But the dreams were different this time, not the girl walking away, but reaching out and holding hands. Or trying. But we couldn’t could we. I can’t remember. Its all blurry. Gray. This is no way to live, feeling alone so much that you wish that you could run, far away, from all the stupid things you said and did to drive people away. I can’t even remember so much of those years, except I learned how to make people stop being angry at me all the time. To be subtle and quiet and strong enough that I was never picked on or bullied. Sort of. Is being ignored better? I remember that moment when they were talking about defending themselves and all I did was listen intently, but I can’t remember why. And is being ignored better anyway? Its not like I have some huge support system here. Just me and the silence, the gray that comes creeping in to take away the bad. And I am sick of it. And there is no release this summer, no trip where I can just start fresh, and hide my crazy for a while. No, just me and the gray. Maybe that’s why I look for someone to be with, even though I know it could never work. That desperation, I felt it all day, but then it slowly faded. Gone. Like a snap. Not really a reason. I thought for a moment I might have matured, but that’s way to convenient, isn’t it? That this girl who haunts my dreams and thoughts, I am able to let go with just a wave an a word. Probably never see her again. Or at least never when we can talk. But before the gray comes to take away this, I just want to know. What did she think of me? Does she look for love, or just whatever other people see in when they look for relationships. I know there was no way she could feel the way I feel, but I wonder still. It finally is raining, as the sky grows black, and I feel happy just watching the rain. But this one nagging thought is enough to drive the happy out. Am I really happy? Or is my mind just tricking me again.

Ps. Isn’t it sick that I did this on a whim, after not even remembering this site for two years? And seeing everyone else’s problems, I know how whiny I am. This is totally second period all over again, comparing a childhood of another’s neglect to my anecdotal memories. Everyone is my family is so normal, (and even if they aren’t happy, always trying to be as good as possible) so why can’t I be normal too? I just want to write this down and put it up so I can remember it for once…

Pps And why doesn’t my C key stay on????

Bob,

I'm sitting here, it's 11:45pm, all alone in my bedroom. I'm lonely.

I'm always lonely.

I find it so difficult to have a connection with people. I hate small talk because it feels so cold and impersonal, yet I lack interest in the "popular" things to be interested in and my overthinking of everything else in the world goes over peoples' heads when trying to communicate with them.

The only people I've ever been able to really feel a connection with are those who I consider to have an IQ at a similar level as my own. My older brother, I can only connect with when it comes to relationships (and little else); and my younger brother, all the time. Dan I can connect with, Denise not so much. Both pweb Johns I can connect with quite well, though I don't talk to one much anymore. Nicole?...let's not.

I crave that connection with more people. Dan's a popular guy, has a lot more going on in his life than I do, and is a lot more socially successful than I. My younger brother doesn't live with me and is younger (and also much more socially successful). I WANT it, but it evades me because my IQ falls outside the normal range.

I find a lot of my life I have settled when it comes to social situations. I've constantly settled for less than optimal levels of intellectual connection because it was easier. And it is easier. And it will remain being easier because there are that many more people out there.

In talking about this, I realize something I never quite got before. An intellectual connection is not important for an emotional connection.

Is it required to be happy, though?

Perhaps that's why...
because I had to dumb myself down
and keep pieces to myself...

Yet, I am satisfied with a purely emotional connection...

It's really funny how much I learn about myself when typing things on here or my LJ. It's like talking things out, as I have to force my mind to follow a singular path. I have to disable multithreading because reading and writing rely upon an accurate RDTSC... Unfortunately there are no hotfixes that allow me to function properly without one when writing.

speaking of meaningless segways away from my topic...

I want to call up Dan and see if he wants to go get a coffee or something....get out of the house, and explore this further in the presence of someone else.
But I won't, because I'm scared to.

Is that logical?
Is that normal?

I'm actually scared of calling up my best friend?
I don't even really know why, but I am.
I've never liked the phone.

And that's why I never got a follow up date with Meghan. Not because there wasn't attraction on either end, but purely because I've refused to call her because it scares me to.

But she doesn't fall into that IQ range; so any further dates would be exercises in purely physical and emotional connections, rather than intellectual ones...

But I was satisfied with that once...

--Cam

Bob,

I have a door for my bedroom! Sorta! It's a largely see-through bamboo mat that rolls up, but that's alright for now. I may tack some linen onto the back of it to make it more opaque, and then see what can be done about the large gap at the side so that it'll feel a little more closed off. But for now, I have a door!

~Rei

Bob,

We have a second cat! Captain Dandilion is ours for the summer. Should be fun.

-JL

Dear Bob,

This could go so very wrong it's not even funny. I scare myself sometimes. What the hell is wrong with me.... this risk was not necessary. I could have just let things be.

-me

Bob,
I let a student fall asleep in the last class of the day, just so I would have the pleasure of turning out the lights and letting his classmates crow at him like a bunch of roosters. And with the desired results. He jumped higher than even I expected.






Also, I'm disappointed, but not surprised about that one thing...you know what I'm talking about.

Bob,
I let a student fall asleep in the last class of the day, just so I would have the pleasure of turning out the lights and letting his classmates crow at him like a bunch of roosters. And with the desired results. He jumped higher than even I expected.

Dear Bob,

HELP.

Bob,

Gerbil died last night.

Dear Bob,

Today it was not worth it after all.

God, I feel like a lousy therapist.

Me

P.S. I hate generalized anxiety. I hate having it, and I hate treating it.

Dear Bob,

I dislike people who never return things that you loan them or leave with them accidentally, even when you specifically ask for them back.

dear bob,

one of the best and near to last of my ever-dwindling group of actual real friends in new york city just told me that in a month she's moving in to henry's apartment.

...so that's pretty much the end of THAT friendship. not because i want it to be... but because logistically... it's impossible. and it was hard enough knowing that she was still close with him. i don't think i can survive her living with him. not when it was supposed to be ME.





i don't even know what i want anymore. i just know this is one of the loneliest cities i've ever been to. i feel like i moved here to lose everyone i ever thought i cared about. i pretty much have only three people left that i trust here. others have either lost that trust, or else i just can't extend it to them anymore--whether that's fair or not.


god, it's lonely here.

dear bob,

I think I'm moving out.
I'm going to tell my mom tomorrow that I'll be out by the end of July.
I'm sick of this.
I'm sick of finding out 3 months down the road that I owe you money that's been building up.
I'm sick of her changing what what I pay her in rent supposedly covers.

I'm sick of this apartment. I have been since we moved here. And I'm sick of you promising to find something else and never doing it.

I'm anxious to be somewhere new. A little nervous/worried about leaving my mom alone, but more anxious to be somewhere new.
But I hate that it's come to this.

--Cam

double post, for shame.

Bob,

I still cry.
And when I'm not crying, I feel like I should be.
I hate it
I should be over this
I should have moved on.
I should have someone new.
Someone better.

but I don't.
I still cry.
I still love her
I still miss her
I still want her
I still cry
when I can't shake the thoughts of her from my mind.
Baby, you're the only light I ever saw.

I close my eyes and I see driving down I4 with her to treat her to Florida Mall.
I see the tour of the gorgeous resort our wedding should have been at.
It would only be a couple weeks away.
It should've been.

I've seen other women.
Fallen asleep with them in my arms
None of them feel like her.
Sometimes I'd wake up
from a dream of times long gone
and suddenly I'm disappointed
when I see it's not her against me

why is this so hard for me?
when it wasn't for her
how could she so quickly be with someone like him
and I'm still pining over what was taken from me?

why does it somehow never feel like I'm normal?
why was the love I felt for her so abnormal
so hard for anyone to understand?
why is my pain so unique
that nobody else seems to get it?

I still cry
when I realize I'll never have her in my arms again
I still cry

--Cam

Dear Bob,

A year ago I spent three days as an inpatient in a psychiatric hospital because of intense suicidal ideation. I'm not ashamed of that fact at all. Actually, I kind of think of it like a badge of honor. I know it took an intense amount of courage for me to take that step for the sake of my own health and well-being and that of my family and friends. It ended up not being what I needed but I still had to try all available options. I have come a long way over this past year. I wouldn't go back to that for anything.

Dear Bob,

For years I have thought my most likely cause of death would be heart failure. Considering my diet, lifestyle, family history and blood pressure levels, it always seemed like a safe bet that I would end up having my first heart attack not far into the next decade. Recent events involving alcohol have now made me consider the possibility of there being a close runner up, being liver failure.

The up side, is that when I die, I believe my liver will be finely preserved, well pickled and likely to have a lovely taste. Sadly, being a liver, I imagine the texture will be terrible.

Dear Bob,

Today it was not worth it after all.

God, I feel like a lousy therapist.

Dear Bob,

I was wrong. Turns out I was a good therapist, I really changed something for someone, and it actually was worth it after all.

Who knew?

So Bob, that's it.

I made it through my first year.

Bob,

f***.
I'm sitting here and I'm almost in tears.
Almost, as in they're forming in my eyes and I refuse to let them loose.

I'm not thinking about Nicole.
or being rejected time and time again by women who - everyone around us can tell - like me

I'm not thinking about where I live, how much it sucks being in a room right next to my mom's, wishing I could be closer to my friends and have them come over here rather than the other way around.

I'm thinking about sitting here.
I'm thinking about this 200 sqft existence that I call my room
I'm thinking about sitting here completely alone.

I feel, so alone
I'm so detached. From everything, from everyone.
Every time I find someone new I fail, miserably, at making any sort of connection with them.
and any time I think I do....
well I never see them again.

I want to be with someone
feel with them.

damnit, there they go...

Bob,

Sometimes I forget how much I really do love my Buddy. Sometimes it takes a night of snow cones, fedoras, and Harry Potter to remind me.

- me

So Bob, that's it.

I made it through my first year.

Woo!

today is my law school graduation. in some ways i am shocked it came so soon, yet in others i know it really didn't come soon enough. i didn't attend. seems like the weather was nice though.

Damn it guys, can't someone post something in here to save me from double posts?

Anyways.... more grad news... So.. as far as grads go, this isn't one of the greatest. As of yet I have not gotten a single gift from anyone, nor do I expect to get any. Really does make me feel loved and wanted after 3 yrs of law school hell.

Oh, and it looks like my grandfather is having a stroke. Sooooooo.... looks like i am about to lose my last grandparent, cuz he wasn't in great shape to begin with.

Edit:

Also, when talking to my mother about the situation, Rocky IV was on tv and I missed my favorite part. This really just isn't my day, and honestly, this year is a writeoff as well.

Edit #2

Update on my grandfather: Turns out it was a diabetic coma. My stupid sow of an aunt hadn't checked his sugars in over 2 weeks. Oh, and he has pneumonia. And he fell down a few weeks ago and got a bunch of stitches and I imagine that there's some sort of infection there too.

Dear Bob,

My sister was baptised today in Lake Osoyoos. This makes me very happy.

~Rei

dear bob,


i want to try to put this weekend into words. but i don't think i can.


i'm going to sleep instead. this may be the most "normal" my life will ever get.



i might be learning to be ok with that.

Dear Bob,

Everything's coming up Milhouse!

So, for reasons I can't explain or understand, my dad is doing worse. I called him today to wish him a happy Father's Day, and it's rather obvious that he's worse than he was just a week ago.

I think the treatments aren't going as well as we all think or hope they are. I think the treatment centre knows it but isn't about to say anything. Much like I knew he had cancer when he had the seizure (before diagnosing); and how I knew everything wasn't roses right after the surgery.

The tumour is affecting him. It's not the treatments wearing him down, it's the cancer. The treatments are making him tired, the cancer is hurting his movements. I don't think my Dad will ever be the same man.

No, I'm not being pessimistic. I may be depressive, but I'm not a pessimist. I just recognize things. I pick up on this.

--

I do not understand. I don't get it. I don't get the appeal of the bar scene. It's possible that London and McVeighs' aren't my plaes. I see the television bar and you've got the guy playing pool, people all around hanging out and chatting, it seems like a good time. Beautiful women, people meeting people, friends, everything.

I go to the bar and I see an almost empty room with some pathetic alcoholic old men, and t hen a small group of people I sortof know.

Or, I go to London and I'm in a packed room with blaringly loud music. It's like a bar that wants to be a club with a dance floor that's amaller than my bedroom and a population the size of Newmarket.

I want to understand. I want to see what it's all about.
I want to go to a bar with people my age where I can meet new people and hang out and have a good time the way everyone else seems to be able to.

But part of me, a large part of me, feels rather confident that the problem is not where I go or who I'm with. The problem is me. I'm boring. I'm a s***** conversationalist. I don't have things to talk about or to interject into others' conversations. I'm about as interesting as a rock off the ground. Sure, to a geologist I might be interesting; but there aren't very many geologists out there.

Calling all geologists.

You wouldn't happen to know any, would you Bob?

--Cam

Dear Bob,

Today I found out that I'm not doing my job.
The job I thought was mine ... isn't. Instead my job is largely something I don't want to do.

The kicker is that this has been the case since Aug/Sep, only I didn't know it, and no one knew what I actually did. Which doesn't make sense.

It's crazy.

Bob,

It's getting worse
Help me help me help me help me help me
I'm getting worse
help
I'm
I can't
I....I'm so ready to do it.
Not for the sake of doing it.
but because I can't not.

I know it's selfish. If I wasn't so selfless to all those I care about I would've been gone a long time ago.
but I can't help it.

I want out

I don't...
I can't...
I'm so miserable

I sit and talk to God
And he just laughs at my plans
My head speaks a language
I don't understnad

I just wanna feel real love
Feel the home that I live in
'Cause I got too much life
Running through my veins
Going to waste

I don't wanna die
But I ain't keen on living either
Before I fall in love
I'm preparing to leave her
I scare myself to death
That's why I keep on running
Before I've arrived
I can see myself coming

I feel laughed at.
I feel like the big man upstairs saw someone who was actually going somewhere, with a plan, at a happy place, and going to a happier one, and he spat down upon it; and not in the good way that would give everyone a pool in their backyards.

I don't want to die because I don't want to affect all those around me.
I don't want to live because I don't want to go through any more of this life.

I want it over
and it only gets worse as time goes on.

This hour was worse than last.
This week was worse than last.
This year was worse than last.

I'm not going much farther down.
I'm not going any farther down.

I'm dying inside Bob
I may not have killed myself
but the inside is already dead.

bob...
the only solace I have is writing here.

Bob,
I hate dating. I hate being alone, but I don't really LIKE any guy that asks me out. I go out, but I don't like it. It feels weird. I avoid second dates. I avoid phone calls, messages...
I HATE it.
I don't know what it's LIKE to just "date." I do relationships. I don't do "dating."
I HATE dating.
I HATE DATING.
I want to never ever date again.
...It's so...awkward.
GAH.

Bob,

Remember how I said everything was coming up milhouse?

I wasn't lying.

In addition to what else is going on, I now have type 1 diabetes and a urinary tract infection. The UTI doesn't bother me so much really; it just adds to everything.

I'm more depressed than I was BEFORE I went to see the f****** doctor. I don't want to live the rest of my life on f****** insulin. I don't even feel sick, f*** that s***.

I'd rather ditch the drugs altogether and just leave everything be till I die.

Maybe the one will change that, but it better mighty fast, or I will quit.

I know, I know. Never give up, you've got so much stuff ahead of you and blah blah blah blah blah. f*** that s***. It doesn't matter how much money I make, how great of a family I never have, or whatever comes; I'll be living on this f****** insulin. f*** that.

I'll find out next week sometime just how bad it is.

--Cam

Dear Bob,

Why is summer so ugly? It's a hundred and something degrees Fahrenheit, all the grass has turned brown, except after a rain, when it's green and four inches taller than it already was. The rain would be beautiful if it wasn't so humid afterwards. The clothing styles look horrible, on everyone. And the people are just depressing. Oh, how I long for the fall! At least the books are beautiful, but they always are.

Speed time up for me, will you, Bob?

It doesn't matter how much money I make, how great of a family I never have, or whatever comes; I'll be living on this f****** insulin. f*** that.

I know how you feel about that -- it sucks. I just want to be normal and not 'shoot up' at the dinner table or carry around a bottle of honey with me, but I've got to do it anyway. The good news is that islet cell transplants, if I remember correctly, have been successfully tested in a few humans, so it seems a cure is getting ever closer.

Bob,

Ever have the feeling that you've had a nightmare, and you just can't remember if you actually did? Meh, I don't know what it is, I just feel blah about last night, and all I did was sleep.

- me