Christmas Meltdown...

Hi *waves*. I’ve been thinking… I come to realizations about myself almost every damned day. That is usually how I start a blog entry; “I’ve come to a realization about myself.” What the fuck? I suppose that’s a good thing because everyone could stand to learn a thing or two about themselves every now and then—it makes us better people, but I think I take it a little over board. As my boss, Gary would say, I’m way to introspective… I think too much. Anyway, this entry isn’t going to be any different… I’ve come to a realization about myself, not today, but yesterday.

So, I’ve decided to start back on the anti-depressants because lets’ face it; me being me with out any mind altering drugs in my system isn’t working. I just can’t play the game without a little help; I need to be someone else, period. It’s sad once you realize that about yourself, but that will all go away once the Zoloft really starts kicking in. I’ve been taking it for two days and I can already see the difference.

First off, I have a wicked headache that will not go away, I’m totally exhausted and I’ve been listening to nothing but Rock/Metal for the last two days. This is also something I’ve noticed about myself, I listen to way more Hip-Hop when I’m off my medication. I don’t know why… maybe it’s because I’m really angry so I express that frustration through Gangsta Rap. As my sister has so insightfully mentioned, it’s two different degrees of anger. When I’m off my medication, I’m more aggressive and outward—easy to fight. When I’m on my medication, I’m more inward—it’s easier to let stuff go. So yeah, I made an ass of myself at both Christmas parties and to answer the question I posed in the entry previous to this one, I’d rather be in a fog then see the truth. The truth is over rated… big time. It’s too much for me to sit there, losing it and like… seeing myself lose it—acting like an ass and being able to do nothing about it. It’s disconcerting to say the least. I don’t like that feeling at all. In fact, I hate it.

The weird thing about this whole situation is I understand my father much better now. I had a really hard time understanding why he would choose drugs over his family. Now that I’m older I also understand that 50% of the problem with my parent’s marriage was my mother’s fault as well, but I’m so much like my dad is freaky. He understood that being himself—just the way he was born wasn’t working. He knew he had to change and become someone else, so he turned to drugs. Granted, I’m not going to go out and become a crack-head like my dad, but I have a clearer perception of what he was going through. Maybe he would have had a chance had he access to prescription drugs like me. But hindsight is always 20/20.

I know that I said before that being on the Zoloft drained the artistic impulse out of me, which is true. But I haven’t drawn anything in years and I’m sick of that. So, I’ve decided to fight through and try to find the inspiration to create again. I think that will help me express and not eternalize everything. I believe that was part of my problem the last four years. I haven’t had a real physical medium to purge myself. I’m curious to know what will flow from my pencil in the next year.

I suppose you can call these New Year’s Resolutions although I really don’t believe in those. There are very few people who can actually stick to shit like that, but it’s as close as I’m going to get so I might as well try really hard to follow through.

See you peeps on the flipside. Peace, Love, Blessed it be.