My turn to bitch about life (not really marijuana related)

hey guys, I've been feeling kind of down lately and have been doing a lot of thinking. I'm trying to mentally prepare myself for my first mushroom trip in about a week, so I've been generally introspective as of late, almost to the point of selfcenteredness (is that a word?). Basically I spent a while today simply writing about myself. It really is a doozy of a rant and may take a while to read, Basically I want you guys to critique my logic as well as my conclusion. Tell me how I'm thinking wrong and what I got right. if you don't wanna go through the whole thing (I don't know if I'd have the patience myself) please at least pick apart the pieces that seem interesting to you. Any advice is welcome and well apreciated. Oh, and one more thing, there's some pretty personal stuff in there but considering that I generally trust you guys and don't personally know any of you I'm not afraid to share it. I got my inspiration by simply looking around. Here it is:

Surroundings

Every once in a while I look at my surroundings and become amazed at how much they reflect my personality. A glass bowl and a lighter resting upon a Douglas Adams book, a mountain dew can next to that, a whole lot of books that I never finished reading. The most prevelant thing being the general neglect and disorder present throughout my room. As much as I'd like to think otherwise (both from denial and simply not wanting to believe that life can work this way) all of it does bare a direct correlation to my current state of mind and lifestyle. I'm both amazed and disgusted by these thoughts. I often become almost giddy (yes, giddy) at the thought of how different I am, I truly do what I want with my own little space. This feeling almost as often subsides to an awful feeling of failure, the kind of feeling that causes you to close your eyes and cringe for a moment, well, it makes me to do that anyway. After either taking a couple deep breaths or spouting out some random string of profanity mixed with nonsense phrases that reflect that particular feeling very well, it goes away and I can move on. Cleaning my room isn't an option for me. I honestly don't want to bring order to my surroundings, which is odd considering that in many other situations that's my first and most basic impulse. In a lot of ways I'm almost obsessive/compulsive about things. A cup or dish with a bit of crud on it is unusable to me. And don't even get me started on little bits of crud that actually end up in my food. The confusing part is how I'll take that crusty plate with the crusty food and eat at least some of it anyway then discard it in the particularly crusty little corner of my room to gain more crust (among other things). So I suppose i could say that it's now become my nature to go againt my nature. I am definitely a person of contradictions, some of them disgustingly frustrating even to me, I often imagine how I must seem to others. Perhaps this is just my own little way of being special, I haven't exactly done anything spectacularly original for quite some time (if ever), and I'm not really in the process of creating anything that could reasonably be called 'above average'. Or maybe it's more of a basic human thing. Leaving my own discarded waste (the sorts of pop cans, pencil shavings, and food wrappers, not actual human waste) around is just a way to mark my territory. You walk into my room and you can instantly tell what kind of person lives here. If you actually know me it becomes even more telling, though I doubt anyone I don't know ever comes into my room (I'd certainly hope not). I even put crap up on my walls (I already told you, there is no actual human fecal matter in my room, to my knowledge...). No, I couldn't just slap up some posters like other people, I had to spend countless hours taping things up to my wall. It's all pretty similar to the things I have lying around my room too. A mountain dew label, various things related to marijuana (some more obvious than others) and I'm sure there's something to do with Douglas Adams as well. Not to mention the other four square feet dedicated to the things that interest me. Heh, that is like me isn't it? I start taping things to my wall that interest me in particular and then try damned hard to think of it as some kind of art. I guess it is just generally interesting though, the people that look at it that aren't simply perplexed as to why I would put a bunch of weird drawings and magazine clippings on my wall tend to spend a lot of time analyzing it, staring at it. Perhaps for some reason it's easy for certain people to decipher it's purpose, to make you think. When i started it I had a seperate, and probably more nobel purpose too. Though I didn't realize it at the time it was all part of a healing process, I needed some kind of project that I could turn to when I was struck by that horrible inner demon that likes to be adressed as 'lack of motivation'. On a directly related note I now realize that my almost daily lack of motivation is more than pig-headed laziness. It's my own form of depression, and it gets bad sometimes. When it hits I don't feel worthless or dumb like a lot of people do, nor do I strike out at others. I simply don't see any reason to do anything, even the things I love. When I allow myself (if I ever even have that much control over it) to sink into this state of mind there are few things I can convince myself to do, much less what I probably should be doing. Usually this consists of television, masturbation, or whatever little thing I can do to keep occupied without actually accomplishing anything. I can't even make myself read a book (something I've always loved to do) a lot of the time. Every once in a while it won't go away unless some outside factor brings me out of it. When this happens it can last for days, even weeks. That's when the people around me become affected as well. I understand how they can become angry with me, it really does seem like i'm just shitting around and trying to avoid my problems, which is true to some extent, I'm avoiding them because I can't bring myself to take care of them whether or not I know how. This doubled with my problems paying attention in general (possible ADD) make for a very bad situation. My patern of depression matches that of your classic manic depressive, I'm pretty sure I have bipolar disorder. All of this together mixed with my genuine problems (by that I mean the ones that don't originate from within) has made things more difficult than most people could imagine. People like to ask me 'why' a lot, thinking that perhaps I'm simply lacking some kind of common sense. In fact I believe myself to be a rather wise person, for my age. Most of the things I do are against my better judgement, as I more or less stated earlier. I know that I shouldn't, I know why I shouldn't, it's just a matter of will. Often times my mind will be racing, i'll feel as if I could do anything, and honestly, if I could keep that state of mind permanently I think I could. I'm pretty sure that's part of the whole bipolar thing, but for some unfortunate reason my downs last much, much longer than my ups. There are many possible solutions, the thing is that I doubt I can work out the specific combination of things that would work, and keep working, not without some kind of long struggle. To summarize: I have depression problems, quite probably bipolar disorder, attention problems, as well as a basic mental instability that I haven't even really adressed here. If it's true that my surroundings are a direct reflection of my mind, not just the way I percieve them but also how I alter them, then perhaps the opposite is also true. My mind is a reflection of my surroundings. The last time I was able to pull myself out of this horrible stagnant rut it started with me cleaning up myself as well as my imediate surroundings. I think I'll clean my room tomorrow.

 

thanks you for the kind words people
And Flowerchild, it really does help to know that this makes sense to someone besides me.

 

Yes, actually, i live in Rockford, how'd you know?