2121: Blehhhh

It has been what can be politely described as a “challenging” couple of days, in the same way that a child in a classroom who eats curtains and communicates through punching his adjacent classmates in the face and testicles can be described as “challenging”. I shan’t go into details, but suffice to say I have spent a considerable proportion of the last couple of days either staring at a wall, staring at the ceiling, crying into a pillow, just plain ol’ crying and wanting to set fire to everything and everyone in the world. Sometimes all of the above at the same time.

These periods seem to come along every so often in most people’s lives, and different people deal with them in different ways. I’ve never quite figured out the best way of dealing with them — or “coping”, as experts in psychobabble like to describe it — but I have at least never found myself in a place where I want to hurt myself, block out the world with drink or drugs, abuse other people for my own gratification, or anything else actively harmful to myself, others or both. This is for the best, I suppose, but it also leaves me feeling, at times, like I should be doing something “more” to bring myself closure in these dark periods of my life. Perhaps the act of writing this is a means of providing closure in itself; I couldn’t say as I type this, because I haven’t yet finished writing it and I’m still feeling pretty shitty but can’t yet comment on how I’ll feel when I get to the end of it all. If that makes sense.

The mental capacity we humans have can be troublesome at times. While our wonderful brains allow us to enjoy art, music, emotions, love, sex for more than procreation, video games, the taste of HP sauce on a sausage sandwich and plenty of other things besides, it is all too apparent that it’s an extremely delicate chemical balance going on in there, and it tipping slightly one way or the other can have pretty devastating effects on your mental wellbeing, sending you crashing into depression, flying into rage, becoming wracked with anxiety or paralysed with fear. And it never seems to be predictable, either; sometimes something can make you feel one way, making you think you can prepare yourself for it the next time, but the time after your brain decides that no, you’re going to feel something at the opposite end of the emotional spectrum this time, even though the stimulus was the same. It becomes a constant rollercoaster ride of emotions, when all you really want to do is to be able to sit back and enjoy life, genuinely content and free of worries for once.

I wonder if anyone out there is truly content and has absolute, complete inner peace. I bet even the Dalai Lama worries about leaving the gas on sometimes.