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I'm just a bad dream of a dysfunctional reality.

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Rise Against (various) [Apr. 18th, 2012|02:52 am]
I'm just a bad dream of a dysfunctional reality.
[mood |determined]

It's interesting to me that maintaining a journal is supposed to be cathartic but in the end, it becomes yet another form of social networking.  When those close to you discover you are keeping a journal, they inevitably want access to it.  And how does one refuse without alienating that party?  As if they are the only ones excluded?  I know I care too much what others think, and that's something I definitely need to work on, but it's challenging.  Granted, I suppose I could exclude access to certain posts, but again...it seems questionable when everyone else may see it except for certain parties.  I have felt the need to be "politically correct" my entire life, or at least "socially" correct, so as not to offend anyone.  However, many feel nothing about offending or excluding me.  Obviously, I'm doing it wrong.

My last entry was from early 2010 and upon reflecting, I realize that nothing much has changed.  I did meet a wonderful girl who has so many exceptional qualities that I would be a fool to throw the relationship away.  My limiting belief system also does not help, for it suggests scarcity regarding meeting others.  I end up locking myself into these relationships and invariably end up on the wrong end of the breakups.  I was watching a presentation recently where it was submitted that learning is adjusting one's behavior to avoid making the same errors.  I apparently haven't learned.  Aside from my relationship I am in the very same spot I was when I arrived down here.  I am not any happier; in fact, I am more depressed than ever (aside from the point of my last entry).

I enrolled in school with the best of intentions.  After my multiple attempts to enroll in the local community college, I ended up signing onto the "distance learning: system once again.  And once again, I had a decent start but faltered and ultimately failed.  Granted, in the interim I was promoted at my place of employment and work an additional day (10 hours more per week) which did not help, but there are those who work just as much if not more and manage to succeed.  Rather than being inspirational to me, it seems to underscore the self-imposed moniker of failure.  Of course, after I was enrolled I learned of another local school I apparently could have attended but I was stubborn and decided that it would be in the best interests of my odd schedule that I stick it out online.  I couldn't hack it.  Again.

I am aware that submitting to failure is counterproductive,  Logically, I get it.  Logically, I have so many answers but emotionally I am unable to follow through with any of them.  Getting older has become more of a detriment career-wise, almost just like one's credit history:  no credit can be better than bad credit.  No experience or limited experience can be better than a checkered job history and subsequent resume detailing that.  I have friends ten years younger than I (which is sad in itself) who are more successful than I am at this point in my life.  Granted, I too had opportunities when I was younger and I should have gone to school at that time but I didn't, and now I am reaping the consequences of my inaction.

One goal I have managed to meet for the most part is going to the gym.  Aside from a bad bout with tennis elbow late last year, I have been going to the gym more often than not with few exceptions.  One would think I would be a behemoth at this point, but I see little difference than when I first started going in late 2009.  My diet sucks and that's a big part of it, but at least I am going, I suppose.

I want to have goals.  I want to have a career.  I want to be successful financially, socially, physically, mentally, psychologically and with my relationship.  I have fallen short so many times.  An utter lack of energy plagues me.  Lethargy takes its toll on me.  I started to submit to it, believing that because my mother suffers from the same, I am destined to as well.  That belief will doom me to utter failure, and I refuse to fail anymore.

I am so scared.  I don't even know why.  I'm afraid of everything.  I hate it.  It limits my life in every possible area.  I am afraid to move out, because I may lose my source of income and then what, move back?  Failure.  I am afraid to enter into a car loan because of the same.  I am afraid to be confrontational because ultimately I end up being threatened in some way and because of my small stature, I feel that there isn't much I can do about that.  I tried communicating differently, but I am not very good at communicating with different, distinct personalities and instead tend to relapse to communicating in a condescending, arrogant way.  I suppose that is to compensate for my physical stature and lack of self confidence.  I hate it.  If there were some magic combination to unlock normalcy, I would like to figure it out.  I would like to wake up one day and feel socially intelligent, motivated, and likable rather than depressed, feeling like a failure, as if that were my lot in life.

I feel that I have a very uneasy relationship with my family, partly because I never really became anything of worth, and because I owe my grandmother money that for some reason I cannot repay because it is so much.  Somehow I manage to spend money on things that are really unnecessary but am unable to focus those resources where they matter.  I need to get back to managing my money properly.

Sometimes I feel like I need to cut ties with much in my life in order to grow and move forward, almost as if those things are holding me back from truly flourishing.  But the fear kicks in and reminds me that I'm fortunate to have the little that I do, considering my circumstances.  Maybe I always feel tired because of an incongruence between what I truly am, what I purport myself to be, and what I really want.  I'm not sure, but I cannot let myself bring me down any more.
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Wow [Sep. 9th, 2009|03:39 am]
I'm just a bad dream of a dysfunctional reality.
[mood |listlesslistless]
[music |Heart - "Heavy Heart"]

Crazy.  It's been four years since I've written in this thing.  It's always interesting to be able to look back on one's past and gauge evolution.  Those entries were a small snapshot of that point in time.  It's amusing that during times we perceive to be troubled, we often wish for other circumstances; but I often reflect on the past and long for those times, as they tend to seem significantly better in comparison, whether for their simplicity compared to my current life, or because I am brought back to a different emotional state.

I really believed in 2005 that I would be so far beyond where I was at the time, and now I feel that I am at quite a different point in my life.  I feel as if I have regressed sharply in many ways.  But in a way it's amusing to revisit the recent past in the form of journal entries.  I really am unsure why I had initially begun to document my life in this way.  I really am disinterested in maintaining a journal.  I have tried tangible journals in the past and within a few days had grown disinterested and subsequently stopped writing daily.  I felt that I certainly wouldn't have been interested in looking back on those times.  Sometimes I feel as I did then, that there are certain times in my life that I would like to forget ever occurred.  Other reflections, such as the seemingly mundane, semi-daily discourses of my life and times in 2005, pique my interest.  I confess, I do miss those times, as odd as that may sound.  My life was certainly tumultuous personally as well as professionally (and the two were so intertwined by my own doing).  Although I made great money I seldom had anything to show for it.  I was living at a friend's house (a very odd character) on the cheap, yet I despised not having a place I could truly call my own.  Yet today, compared to four years ago, I would gladly trade for the latter.

Maybe I'll continue to write here.  Journals may be cathartic for those who enjoy documenting thoughts, without regard for an audience.  Personally, I write with the desire for others to read my thoughts.  I don't write for myself.  Why should I?  I don't want to read and re-read the things which I experience every day anyway.  The only great benefit I can immediately see could be that in another four years, perhaps I can look back at this, and laugh at how much progress I have made since.

I am cautiously optimistic.  More later.
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Random thought [Sep. 10th, 2005|06:55 pm]
I'm just a bad dream of a dysfunctional reality.
[mood |blahblah]
[music |Joni Mitchell - "Both Sides Now"]

I'd like this song to be played at my funeral.

Bows and flows of angel hair, and ice cream castles in the air
And feather canyons everywhere, I've looked at clouds that way
But now they only block the sun, they rain and snow on everyone
So many things I would have done, but clouds got in my way

I've looked at clouds from both sides now
From up and down and still somehow
It's cloud's illusions I recall
I really don't know clouds at all

Moons and Junes and ferris wheels, the dizzy dancing way you feel
As every fairy tale comes real, I've looked at love that way
But now it's just another show, you leave 'em laughin when you go
And if you care don't let them know, don't give yourself away


I've looked at love from both sides now
From give and take and still somehow
It's love's illusions I recall
I really don't know love at all

Tears and fears and feeling proud, to say, "I love you" right out loud
Dreams and schemes and circus crowds, I've looked at life that way
But now old friends are acting strange, they shake their heads, they say
I've changed
But something's lost but something's gained in living every day

I've looked at life from both sides now
From win and lose and still somehow
It's life's illusions I recall
I really don't know life at all

The Judy Collins version is my favorite to listen to, but the acoustic Joni Mitchell version's the most melancholy of the two. Euphoria.
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Insomnia #1 [Aug. 13th, 2005|09:27 pm]
I'm just a bad dream of a dysfunctional reality.
[mood |sleepysleepy]
[music |The air conditioning unit]

Another night of no sleep. This morning on route I almost creamed a customer's mailbox and tube while the guy was standing in his driveway waiting for the paper. I had drifted off for a few seconds only to wake up pulling next to the mailbox. I guess I managed to play it off as if that was part of my regular routine. Working while being exhausted is so miserable. I hate it.

So my evening was spent at the Charlotte office because one of the other DMs called me and asked for my assistance with a work-related problem he was having. Like the idiot I can be sometimes I relented and ended up spending almost 3 hours there just talking with the guy after we had attempted to work out a solution to his issue. Now I'm wired. I know I'll be dragging myself into work in a few hours (again), feeling miserable (again) and probably falling asleep at the wheel again. I should be more responsible; I used to be very responsible. Now I'm just burned out. I just don't care anymore. Well I do, but..I wish there were quick fixes to some of my most pertinent issues. Unfortunately that isn't the case..like my open route. I'd interviewed a potential carrier this morning (I'd driven all the way back to Englewood with my front end screwed up and violently shaking the entire vehicle) just to basically feel like I'd wasted my time. That's nothing new. Finding quality is like finding a needle in a haystack, and that's a process.

I hope I can find someone soon. I'd like to take my vacation and escape my life for a while.
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(no subject) [Aug. 6th, 2005|02:37 pm]
I'm just a bad dream of a dysfunctional reality.
[mood |tiredtired]
[music |Vanessa Williams - "Saved The Best For Last"]

I've decided I'm not interested in sex anymore.

(Oh, and I've broken the left arrow key on my laptop keyboard.)

How profound! The broken key, I mean.

[Edit: I'd originally written a boring dissertation about my (current) disinterest in sex. I've since decided to digress..]

Maybe I just need love, and I need to love and to feel loved. Isn't that one of our basic needs? Not in a physical sense, but just to feel appreciated and safe emotionally? Precariousness is something that I've endured since I had the ability to understand that I existed and I'd like to put an end to that. That's a terrible means for anyone to tolerate.

I haven't really felt loved for a long time. I've heard it a lot, from family, from girlfriends, but it all sounds so patronizing. I almost feel violated when I hear it, and it's a shame. Maybe that's one reason I've never truly felt loved by anyone (well, except one time for a few months), I don't know. It's been very tempting sometimes to just pick up and disappear somewhere so I can forget about everything. It's impossible to truly "start over," but sometimes reconciliation itself is an impossibility, and I just feel like it's an endless uphill struggle that eventually will end with my defeat. Being reduced to existing rather than living is meaningless in itself.

Oh, and this left key's driving me up the wall..I never realized how much I'm accustomed to using it until now.
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Addendum [Aug. 5th, 2005|08:25 am]
I'm just a bad dream of a dysfunctional reality.
[mood |awake]

You know, it's really odd how everything is somehow interconnected. I'll meet someone for the first time, who knows this person, who knows that person and somehow it comes full circle, usually negatively. I really hate that. I can't wait to leave this pocket of Hell so I won't have to deal with it anymore.
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It's 8:00 AM [Aug. 5th, 2005|08:00 am]
I'm just a bad dream of a dysfunctional reality.
[mood |draineddrained]
[music |Office sounds]

..And I'm waiting for complaints to come in so I'll have something to do. I have to get out of this office. I enjoy being here, feeling like I'm an integral part of this company, but not when I'm in a T-shirt, jeans and Converse sneakers, looking like I'd just come from Happy Hour. I feel so out of place when I'm dressed in this attire. I know I should have worn a polo and slacks, but 1. I've been lazy lately, and 2. Since I've ben delivering routes, or parts of routes, it's better that I dress casual, because newsprint somehow manages to get everywhere on me. The way I figure it, I can change into my 'professional' outfit after I deliver the route; of course, I conveniently 'forget' (read: feeling lazy) and instead explain it away, believing that it won't matter either way and that I won't care or feel self-conscious when I show up to customers' homes looking like a street urchin. The thing is, I believe it at 1 AM. As soon as the office personnel show up, or I arrive at a customer's home and tell them that I'm the District Manager, that self-consciousness and shame creeps up again. And I mentally kick myself.

Anyway, after service (which is pretty good so far in my area today, by the way) I have to pay a visit to the workmans' comp doctor so they can (most likely) inject some cortisone into my left wrist. Fun stuff. Gauging by the current state of healthcare, I'll probably end up waiting there for a couple of hours, just like when I had to go to the Emergency Room following a nasty automobile collision in December. (Nevermind that.) Afterwards, I have to deliver a carrier's check to the Charlotte office because once again, rather than sending it to DeSoto from Venice, it was sent here to Englewood. I love this company.

After that hopefully I'll be able to get some sleep. I'm looking forward to this evening; knowing my luck, something will happen to completely decimate any hope of actually enjoying being alive. Hopefully things will go very well though. I'm definitely enthused.

That sounded so demure.

For some reason, although I'm stellar concerning grammar, spelling and the like I tend to employ run-on sentences an awful lot. Figure that out. Just another point to ponder while I wait.

ARGH, the second complaint of the day.

So much for having a good day.

I wish my life didn't revolve around work.
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(no subject) [Aug. 4th, 2005|11:11 pm]
I'm just a bad dream of a dysfunctional reality.
[mood |tiredtired]
[music |Heart - "All Eyes"]

I've been striving to think a lot more lately. Not about work, or how mundane I've allowed my life to become, but about meaning. About structure, answering the unanswered questions, finding solutions. Like I used to do. I'm even thinking about picking my EasyJournal back up again. After having reread my entries I realized that I have regressed intellectually, my once-broad vocabulary replaced with a simpleton's. Okay, so that's a bit of an exaggeration, but that's how I feel. It's as if my thoughts have no clarity, and what I say and write are just thoughts strung together at random, painting a picture of confusion to the recipient of my communication. If that makes any sense at all.

I haven't read anything in a while, at least nothing of value. Well, unless one would consider Maxim and Stuff magazines intellectually stimulating reading material. I know I really should read Plato's Republic as I had intended to do so many times before; I should reread my college text from my Ethics class too. I should probably go back to college as a matter of fact. You know..even if I did go back to school, I still don't know what I would want to major in. There's just so much in life that I want to experience, and one major wouldn't come close to scratching the surface of my desire for knowledge.

Anyway, I've got work in a couple of hours and paychecks to distribute, and papers to deliver. It's also pouring, so I'm sure it's going to be a stress-free, relaxing day.

Maybe I could major in sarcasm. That's something I'm great at.
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Another meaningless dissertation [Aug. 2nd, 2005|08:31 pm]
I'm just a bad dream of a dysfunctional reality.
[mood |tiredtired]
[music |Pennywise - "Fuck Authority"]

Didn't sleep much today, and it's one of my supposed days off. I really hate that, when during one's typical work week one doesn't get enough sleep, one looks forward to their weekend so that they may 'catch up.' Well in my line of work, I suppose weekends are considered a privelege rather than an obligation by the company. Since I have that open route, I've got to go in on my days off. There's another DM there and there's no reason whatsoever why she couldn't throw the route on my days off. In fact, when I'd assumed control of my district, she and I had made some sort of agreement regarding that very thing--that in order to ensure that we both would receive our days off, if one had an open route, the other would throw/train on the route on one's days off and vice-versa. I suppose that's since changed. I honestly don't expect much of her.

It's not that she should be obligated to help me--after all, I like to pride myself on being self-sufficient--it's just that I feel very uncomfortable asking for her assistance. I've heard numerous stories from a few people which make her seem like a vindictive, back-stabbing, throat-slitting, uh, individual..and for better or worse, I need my job. I can't risk losing it because someone decides she doesn't like the way I do whatever it is that I do. Not that she has that kind of pull, nor do I have really any ill feelings toward her..it's just an unnervng situation. For the life of me, I can't understand why people can't just work together toward a common goal. I don't get it. Maybe I'm ignorant. I constantly volunteer to help her with things she needs to take care of..but when she sees me doing something, like being the last one left in the parking lot bagging papers because I'd been being attentive to my carriers, which I'm not even obligated to do on my days off..that's doing her a favor, but more than that, I care about my cariers, so I try to be accessible all the time. In any case, she doesn't volunteer to help or anything, just stands idly by smoking. Oh well. She's not obligated, so why am I complaining? I guess it's because that's what I do best. The coolest thing happened Sunday morning, though..I was helping my newest carrier, who's very nice, to insert and bag her papers, and when she'd found out that I would be there until God-knew-when, she and her sister volunteered to help bag my papers. None of my carriers have ever done that, and the other DM never has either. That totally made my day.

Anyway, I should make a living off of complaining. Bill O'Reilly does it. Rush Limbaugh does it. A lot of people do it. Why can't I? I guess I lack a few of the prerequisites, like a bad combover and a checkered past. Too bad, because I know I'd become wealthy overnight. Then I could hurry up and pay Cingular off, and ditch them for another provider so they can have a chance to screw me over.

Hopefully this guy works out that I'm training on the open route, and I hope these issues with one of my single carriers are eliminated, so that in a week or so I can take my mini-vacation and get the hell away from work, from people here and Florida for a while. I need to be away from everyone and everything. So much stress and anxiety resides here--not to mention stinky roomates--I need to take a break from that and refocus my sights on my goals, which I've since become distracted from. Once I figure out how to best approach things, I can return to the fold and be miserable again, until I leave Florida for good. God knows when that'll be though.

I did finally have the chance to play guitar for hours on end though. It felt great to just play for a while. Too bad it kills my wrist, but at least this Friday I'll be receiving treatment for it, probably another Cortisone chot or something. It totally kills me when I throw papers, and most of the throws are on the drivers' side of the vehicle, so my left wrist is put to a lot of use. I still play guitar for extended periods of time though. At least I enjoy something, eh?

I hate Florida.
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Another entry to delete [Aug. 1st, 2005|07:26 pm]
I'm just a bad dream of a dysfunctional reality.
[mood |discontentdiscontent]
[music |"The Meaning Of Life" - The Offspring]

As any faithful reader of my journal (yeah, all one of you) since its inception knows, I generally delete any and all entries within one to four days of its posting and I'm sure this one will be no exception.

I actually despise going into work now. It wasn't always like that, as many of you know..it's just, well, I'm burned out. Always going above and beyond, and my reward is exhaustion with no days off. I got screwed over by one of my carriers..two days before I was to begin my long-awaited 4-day mini-vacation the moron drops his route into my lap. Actually, I guess I'm the moron. I should have replaced him when I had had the opportunity. My decisions as of late haven't been the best ones, but cliche as it sounds hindsight is 20/20 and I try to learn from my mistakes, but that only gets me so far.

I've been so miserable and bitter lately, and it's difficult to remember when I wasn't. Have I always been this way? I hate it. Well, I shouldn't say that. I generally take comfort and have resolved myself to the fact that in a way, this is my comfort zone. This is my safety net; at times, my facade. This is how I hide my insecurities and vulnerabilities. Push everyone away; then there's no one left to prod into my life or expose any of those insecurities or vulnerabilities. Problem solved.

Too bad I'm too miserable to enjoy life. That, and too cynical and worried about others' intentions. Maybe I should attempt to focus more on myself and less on others; that way I can have people to tell me that they're my friends to my face, but knifing me as soon as I turn my back. Does true happiness even exist anymore? If so, I'm truly at a loss. I guess I'm waiting for a miracle to come along. Or maybe the miracle's been here for quite some time and I've been too jaded to see it.
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