In Loving Memory

                      Derek Reeves

         10.11.1925 - 05.11.2012

Under the Bridge

"Sometimes I feel like I don't have a partner;
Sometimes I feel like my only friend
Is the page that I write on, the page holds my feelings,
Lonely as I am, together we cry."

So, the Red Hot Chilli Peppers spoke some words I can relate to, even if they were talking about drug use and I had to adapt it a little to my own situation with a lyrical tweak or two.

Most of the day I had been feeling okay. I mean, I wasn't bursting with joy, but I was fairly content and felt able to get on through the day, even if I didn't feel much like talking. I had lunch with Samson and felt happy in his company, the way I always do, but when hometime rolled around, all of a sudden I was feeling a little irate and uncomfortable and discontent, feeling the need to both lash out and be alone. I didn't feel much like being affectionate with Samson as we walked to the station and I felt awkward. It wasn't even because I didn't want to hold his hand or be close to him. I felt the opposite, in fact. But still, at random times, I seem to have an emotional conflict between how I feel versus what I know, or have known. I almost want to reject him because I feel vulnerable and don't want to go with my need to feel close to him and thus risk rejection. I wish I didn't still feel this way, even if it is only intermittent. I wish I didn't have erratic moods, which seem to swing from silent to over-excited and blissful to sullen in a matter of hours. I particularly dislike the fact that it seems to happen most when I am alone, when I am left to brood and my mind is free to wander over all the harsh and desolate landscapes it has ever foolishly stumbled across. I really want my mind to be free; I need to cut the ties that link innocent thoughts to bad experiences. Samson has said that he knows he can't erase all of my bad memories or difficult experiences, but he wants to give me new, happier memories, that will somehow make the others fade away, into the background at least, or to lessen their effect. He is a sweetheart for wanting to, but I am still somewhat wary of letting him.

I know there is no shame in relying on other people when you need support, or of needing people emotionally and valuing the presence of such relationships in one's life. But since I realised I was depressed, I have sometimes felt helpless and have felt myself wanting to resist against the necessity of relying on others. I don't enjoy feeling like I am a burden on anyone else emotionally, I don't like the fact that I can't always just handle the emotions myself, I don't like feeling emotionally weak and I don't like the sense of dependence that comes with it. I suppose I have the streak of stubborn independence that seemingly runs in my family. But also, I remember the feeling of being in a dependent relationship and how unhealthy it was, even though it was completely dissimilar to both the dynamic I have with Samson and the condition in which I now find myself. I also remember the feeling of having someone who allowed me to depend on them, who encouraged me to, who said they wanted to be there for me, but whose promises were empty in practice. I remember the feeling of thinking I had finally found someone I could rely on, someone who understood me, someone who was emotionally intuitive, someone who could relate to some of my previous experiences and didn't want to repeat them. I remember allowing myself to open up completely, to be free and profound with my emotions, only to be left in what felt like the emotional equivalent of being naked and lost in the middle of nowhere. Hmm, when I put it like this, I'm not surprised I have problems with allowing myself to get as close to and as trusting with Samson as I genuinely want to.

I am not purposely holding back and I am not playing games to avoid getting hurt. For the most part, things just flow, we just take each day at a time and enjoy each other's company. But the fear comes at intervals, often creeping into my subconscious until I am feeling the desire to back away without knowing what has triggered it. After Samson saw me onto the train, I rushed to get home. I spoke to Big Sis when I got in and we ate dinner together with Bro-in-Law, before watching some perfect trash telly to distract us. But when I left to go to my room, the empty, lonely feeling came back and I felt very alone. I didn't feel like I had anyone to talk to, even though I know that is untrue. I wanted some reassurance from Samson, but still feel stupid having to ask for his attention, even though he would probably never see it that way. I think my bad experiences with NY Guy's regular lack of response or difficulty to get hold of have given me an aversion to having to initiate contact in any way. I still find it hard to reach out, even when I really need to, even to my friends and family. I sat here for a while, feeling extremely lonely and rather sad, exacerbated by the fact that I didn't feel able to call or text anyone to talk about it. It's not even because I don't have anyone to talk to, because I know I do, but I find it hard to admit needing someone to talk to and not being able to handle things myself. I am used to being there for others and trying to be supportive and comforting and a good listener. But I've realised I don't find it at all easy allowing someone to do that for me. At the time, it helps to talk to someone, but afterwards sometimes, I feel silly, exposed and vulnerable.

For a while, I just sat there, pondering what to do to make myself feel better and feeling helpless. I felt bored with life, wanting to just switch off for a while and not have to deal with the lonely feeling. Then, for the first time in several weeks, I really wanted to write a blog. I haven't had the same need or desire to write lately, but I suddenly remembered that need for an outlet, for catharsis on my own terms, in my own time, in a way that I can both control and release, with the option of sharing it or not. The page helps me to make sense of things, to collate, compose and examine my thoughts, laying the fragmented pieces out in a single place so that I can get a little distance and start to see the picture they form from afar. I have always been better at writing, at expressing myself in prose rather than the spoken word. But then, I think I have also always been better at feeling and thinking rather than doing and I think that's part of my problem. I am trying to get better at expressing, at speaking, at sharing, at doing, at living. I need my words to start jumping off the page and becoming reality. But at least I know that if no-one else, I always have the page.

The Panic Machine

So, the panic machine continues. I am starting to feel more and more strongly for Samson, which mostly delights me, but sometimes terrifies me. Usually I feel content and happy about things with him; I am not engaging in over-analysis or feeling uncertain all the time, like I often did with past situations (hello, NY Guy?). But now and then, with somewhat increasing frequency, I keep having momentary emotional panic attacks, where I suddenly realise how attached I am getting to him and then remember just how emotionally vulnerable such attachments have previously left me. I definitely wear my heart on my sleeve and I do have slight reservations based on bad experiences, but even with a cynicism-induced delay on my feelings, I still fall hard and fast once I eventually give in. I can feel it happening now and for the first time, I am actually really quite scared, to the point of upset at times. It is an intermittent feeling that is not ever-present, but when it is there, it is raw. Occasionally I can feel the fear of rejection and the memory of painful emotions building up inside, until I want to withdraw and just say, “OK, this was nice while it lasted, there was some lovely potential there, but you will change your mind eventually and I don’t want to have fallen completely in love with you when that happens. So, I’ll just get out now while my heart is still somewhat intact, so I won’t have to salvage the fragments of it that are left from the wreckage that will remain when you decide you don’t want it anymore. Bye then!”

I feel stupid being so consumed by this fear, especially since the effect of it would negatively impact my situation with Samson, even though it is based entirely on the actions of people other than him. Occasionally I will be indirectly reminded of something that The Ex, NY Guy or BFTP did and I feel angry and hurt and feel the need to barricade myself in an emotional fortress, where I remain cynical and closed-off and unavailable. I still get the occasional panic when I walk down the street to my house and see a car parked in the spot The Ex used, or a car driving towards me, feeling the horrible sense of anxiety that he has turned up to bother me again. Sometimes when I feel the need to talk to Samson, perhaps if I am feeling low, I am reminded of the many times I tried to do this with NY Guy and couldn’t get through to him, or he didn’t have time for me, or he brushed me off with some sort of generic statement to fob me off or an excuse to justify his lack of support. It makes me feel reluctant to contact Samson or to open up to him at times, because I can’t bear to feel that horrible prolonged sense of rejection and disappointment again. Occasionally, when I am feeling close to him and happy about how much he is starting to mean to me, I’ll remember how uplifted I felt when I got back in contact with BFTP and how close we became because we opened up to each other emotionally to a profound level. I remember how much I let my guard down and allowed myself to trust in what he said, only to again be left hanging without any explanation, apology or acknowledgement. Suddenly, feeling closer to Samson doesn’t feel quite so comforting and I panic that I am oblivious to warning signs or am letting my guard down again without thought. I worry that I haven’t learned my lesson, that I am foolish to allow myself to get close to someone again, to allow them to get to know my heart and for me to give it to them in the process, not fully realising that is happening until it is too late. It upsets me that I feel this way. I hate that the people who never loved me in the way I needed, who didn’t treat me in the way I deserved or respect me enough to be truthful instead of cowardly, have warped my thinking and dislodged my trust to the point where I am fearful to truly be myself. I occasionally feel myself playing down my feelings or disguising them, or pretending to be unaffected by things that I am actually sensitive to. So what if Samson rejects me or breaks my heart? If I put enough barriers up, he wouldn’t have known the real me anyway, so it doesn’t count as a proper rejection. Heartbreak really mucks up your thinking.

It’s at times like this that I also wonder how on earth I am going to pull myself out of this period of depression, where medication feels necessary just to keep me from falling apart. The pressure I have started to put on myself to get better isn’t helping and I know it, but I can’t bear the thought of feeling unstable for another year. I hate that I sometimes feel like I have made lots of progress and then the familiar fears and insecurities pop up and make me feel that I have been taken right back to the beginning. I hadn’t felt the need to write for a while. Actually, that’s not quite true. I hadn’t felt able to write, or at least hadn’t felt that my mind was clear enough to express how I felt, if I could even make sense of it at all. But the recurrence of these fears and anxieties is something that I need to get out of my system and not something that would be healthy to harbour or leave unexpressed. I am still wary to a small degree of telling Samson about every time these insecurities surface, partly because I don’t want to repel him or give him any (more?) reason to change his mind, but also because I have learned that with sharing one’s inner thoughts there needs to be a happy medium. I went for so long feeling that I had to withhold my emotions, that when I started trying to get better at expressing them, for a while I felt like I had to do so with every single little alteration in mood or mindset. I’ve realised that there is a huge difference between being selective with what information to share and with actively withholding or being dishonest about things. I don’t need to tell someone every single tiny insecurity that pops into my head, especially when quite often the next day (or the same day) that feeling has completely subsided. I am learning to deduce the emotions I should share and those that I should work on alone. At times, it feels lonely dealing with certain things inside my own head without an alternative perspective, knowing that advice or reassurance from anyone else will make no difference if I can’t change my own thinking for myself. But it’s preferable to the greater sense of loneliness I feel when I’ve shared such difficulties and they were not received positively. I know that much from experience.

Death Of A Hard Drive

It looks like I don’t have much hope of recovering the countless photos, music and video files and documents that were on my laptop when its hard drive decided to die. I had made a back-up image of the drive when trying to restore it, but I think I mistakenly over-wrote the one I should have kept and now have nothing. I think I have the majority of the photos saved elsewhere, but there are lots of little bits and pieces that I won’t be able to get back.

This is annoying to say the least. I have been meaning to back up my files for ages, but haven’t been able to afford the external hard drive I wanted to buy and was trying to avoid having to burn my files to countless DVDs. I am a little upset about it, but with my current state of mind, I just feel worn down and too lacking in energy to get that irritated by it. What is weird is that what affected me the most is that I have lost all the photos I ever had of NY Guy, old messages from him and various other things like the song I had written and recorded. It seems pointless to try and recover all of those things now, when we are no longer a couple. But somehow, all memory of him being wiped away unexpectedly in this fashion has made it bizarrely final, forcing me to get over whatever it was I thought we had in the first place. I know that it is a fitting metaphor for what I need to do mentally and emotionally, to wipe the slate clean and start afresh, not hankering after what has gone before and being held back by the past. But it’s so hard to do, especially when it is not at my own pace or on my own terms, but has been forced upon me like a system crash that comes out of the blue.

I need to reinstall my personal operating system. I've heard eMelectric v2.8 is way more fabulous than previous versions.