Friday, June 03, 2016

Downward and downward

I'm starting to realize that I am depressed. It's the weird thing about depression is that it takes so long to realize that you are there sometimes. Maybe some people notice faster but I don't. I try to be positive. I've lived through so many hard things that I can't imagine how you live through good things with unhappiness. Maybe that is exactly my problem.

Soon, I travel again. I've traveled a bit this year. There is no mention of it here.

I've lost myself. Large parts of myself have disappeared, or at least, places where I centered pieces of my identity. I am, at this moment in my life, the most completely and totally self-dependent I have ever been. This should be a good thing. I find it terrifying and troubling. I'm unhappy. I don't love New York, but have tried hard. I miss people. I miss being more engaged with the world.

I have become nothing but work and work and work. I'm not living. This troubles me.

Last night I dreamt of the Irish and the One. When they were both young and beautiful and happy. When all three of us were happy. When we smiled and kissed under the stars and held each other on couches and drank wine and watched the stars in the sky over a city. When we eat and slept together.

When we talked.

When we were all in love.

I dreamt about the Boy, my love, when we would walk in the forest with dogs. When we were so dirt poor that a good time was a hike in the woods and doing laundry for free. When I would cook for us using only the cheapest foods, tuna and ramen. When we were happy because we didn't know any better, but unsatisfied because we did.

I dream of the Artist and holding hands and walking down streets in strange places, beautiful places, kissing on hilltops and holding each other and being committed. I dreamt of us as windswept and dangerous and beautiful.

Last night I dreamt of my past and how beautiful it was.

This morning I woke to my present and wondered if it wasn't just as beautiful only different.

I don't have an answer.

Four days ago I rode on a bike down LSD with Hellion and was in love with his youthful joy in a new city. I envied him. I miss seeing beauty everywhere I look.

My words have been escaping me but I need to find them again. I have to exist for me, or I exist for no one.

And that is perhaps the most depressing thought of all.