One thing I’ve realized, ever since I’ve discovered I loved being in college, is that I hate summer, particularly the holy week, with a passion. The crowd, the lack of transportation, the fact that you can’t get a decent meal anywhere because of the “no one eats pork this week” bullshit, all of that contribute to me dreading the time Easter comes around. I almost hate it as much as Christmas time. Fuck, the past holy week I literally wanted to kill an entire mall-full of people for what I view to be an irrational reason. I mean really, more than half of the people in the streets before the holidays looked like they can’t hold a real job for more than a handful of months and these guys needed a vacation? Right.
|Worked harder on this pose than I did the past couple of weeks.|
That was mostly my mood for the past couple of weeks (or years, depending on who you ask). The past two weeks have been both good and bad, due to certain events involving this girl I have feelings for, the craft I chose to practice and the return of my (if I can rip off Dexter for a bit) “dark passenger”.
It has been well-documented, at least in this blog, that despite all appearances, things aren’t all that alright in my head. It’s led to the downfall of a lot of my relationships as well as made it hard for me to relate and communicate with the majority of people I meet and interact with in any capacity. The first half of the past two weeks showed the return of all the anxiety and panic that results in the depersonalization from the slight OCD I’ve been harboring since childhood. Yup, the gang was all back in full force, from the depression, to the thoughts of impending doom and all that.
This resulted in me spending more than the usual amount of time in bars, from Marbles, to the gas station, to anywhere else where alcohol is handy in order to assuage the not-so-pleasant thoughts. The alcohol definitely helped, but the trade off is me not working for almost a week, so fuck you paycheck. Odd thing is, I spent a lot of those nights trying to listen and give my opinion about other people’s problems. It’s not a bad thing, really. I welcomed the distraction, and if it wasn’t for all of that, I may be in a totally different mindset right now.
One Too Many.
|When it comes to affection, beggars can be choosers.|
As I dealt with my own mental baggage, I managed to find a way to show up for a birthday party of one of the people at the Think Tank. It was a pleasant affair, and it gave me a chance to hang with a bunch of people from the office that I haven’t spoken to in a while. It was unexpectedly pleasant, and actually helped me more than the other sessions I went on during the week. After all these years, a large crowd in a loud bar is better than any medication that anyone can subscribe.
The night also made it abundantly clear that I’ve been in the company for far too long, and the events that would transpire the following week would drive that point home. I honestly still don’t know what to make of that.
The Really Long Day
There are days, and there are days. I’m no stranger, to long, eventful days, but it’s been a while since I’ve had one that touched on both my professional and personal life, and what with the recent resurgence of my mental issues, well, let’s just say it was more than activity that I was prepared to deal with.
It was an innocent Tuesday. I went to the Think Tank in hopes of catching up with the hellishly low output I have managed to produce from the previous week. It was then that I read the email from the director of the comedy show I was writing for just a few months prior. Apparently, he had been trying to reach me for days, and what with the shitty phone reception I get in the house I’ve been calling home for a year now, they were unable to reach me. The point was, they wanted me back. Those who follow these posts may recall that I started doing the writing gig for the network around this time last year, and a month before I went to Hong Kong, I requested for a break. While I was writing sketches for them on a reservist capacity, those opportunities were getting rare. I thought I was done with the show. Apparently not. I replied to the email and shortly got the call, basically reiterating the e-mail’s contents. They needed me back. Regardless of what I may feel about the show in general, as a comic, when the director of such an important part of the craft in this country says he wants you to return to your post to write for the 17 year old show, you never say no. So, I’m back full time as a comedy writer, and surprisingly enough, I’m happier than I was about the offer as opposed to a year ago. I was far less appreciative of the spot back then, admittedly. There was no other way that day could have started any better.
The afternoon wasn’t as good. Last post I wrote about this girl I’ve been fancying for quite some time now. As part of my whole recapturing the uncompromising point of view from my younger days, I told her about my feelings on that particular Tuesday. That didn’t go well, as she shot me down without even a bat of the eyelash. Of course, I expected such a reaction. What eats at me is the actual conversation we had. See, this is the culmination of something that was a long time coming. This is the big reveal, where I lay down all that have been in my mind and heart and expressing how this one, singular, at times distant, person has greatly impacted my being on such a grand scale. This was the time that I let her know that she has been a constant good thought, a persistent reason to smile, a glaring reminder of all that is both good and bad about life itself, and the words the came out of my mouth? “Hey, I have feelings and shit.” I wish I was kidding. Seriously. I’m no stranger to expressing myself verbally, what with a year of teaching, hosting a radio show, numerous stints as a college speaker as well as a couple of television appearances and not to mention years of doing stand up comedy that resulted in my participation in two international competitions and the best I can come up with is “I have feelings and shit”?! Kill me now. As if the whole situation wasn’t hopeless enough. “Feelings and shit”. Ugh.
Of course, that bummed me out. It’s a fortunate thing a few members of the team I sud to belong to were also at the Think Tank during that utter disaster of what was supposed to be a pivotal moment. Unaware of my emotional plight, we went out and saw a shitty horror movie we can all laugh at. After that, I spent the rest of the night back at the nearly empty office, once again listening to someone else’s rants until the sun rose.
Yet to Come
|Not exactly camera shy, are we?|
Not surprisingly, the constant that prevented me from going completely batshit were the numerous drinking sessions with the Scoobies. Our numbers may have whittled down over the years, but time and time again, these people are the ones that are consistently there when needed. I say these words a lot, but after 8 or so years of friendship, I feel like I can’t say those words enough. While the conversations we have are rarely grand, nor my issues rarely on display, knowing that they have my back is nothing short of comforting, and the thought has helped me through many a anxiety-filled night.
As for my romantic endeavor, failed as it was, I did make up my mind to not compromise. So, I wait until she changes her mind, or until what I feel is no longer true. It’s going to be a long and probably lonely year.
"I’ll start this broken heart
I’ll fix it up so it will work again
Better than before
Then I’ll star in a mystery
A tragic tale of all that’s yet to come
Fingers crossed there will be love
But I get carried away with every day
And every fantasy
the deeper the wound,
the harder I swoon and wish that that was me
So much to say
But no words to convey
The loneliness building with each passing day
But I’m getting used to it, you have to get used to it" - "Broken Heart", Motion City Soundtrack