Tag: angst

The door is ajar

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Admittedly, I’ve had a hard time finding the motivation to write lately, which sucks a little bit more considering my general desire to have at least a post every weekday.  It’s been somewhat challenging on some days, but given the fact that there are about 17-18 waking hours of each day, usually something piques my interest, or a thought pops into my head that is adequate enough to get the words flowing.

The thing is right now, I’m apparently using a lot of my concentration these days in preparation for Dragon*Con, which as of the time I’m writing this is a hair over two weeks away.  This isn’t something that should be the least bit worrisome for your average attendee, but being one of those weirdoes that likes to have a costume for D*C means that two weeks isn’t so much a chunk of time we’re wishing to erode faster, contrarily, we’re wishing we had more of it.

Needless to say, I’m trying my hardest to not let the thoughts of doubt creep into my psyche, and make me feel like I’ve got an insurmountable boulder to drag up the hill.  I do feel as if I’m making some decent progress, in spite of the fact that I’ve had an immensely difficult time in getting the wheels turning over the summer, and in all frankness I shouldn’t be in this situation had I gotten my ass in gear at an earlier time.

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Salvation, thy name is exercise

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

When I get into a bad mood, my eyes tend to always focus higher than usual.  It’s like, if you were to be staring at me, you might think I’m looking you in the eyes, but in reality, my point of focus would be on your eyebrows.  But on a general scale, my point of focus tends to raise an inch or two, when I’m feeling upset.

I don’t necessarily know why that is, but lately it’s been occurring more than I’d probably be liking it to.  But I don’t know what’s really going on lately, but people can’t stop saying things that irk me, people I work with can’t stop being incompetent at their jobs, and when my mood goes sour, my general attention span and tolerance for the redundant reduce drastically, and I’m kind of just over, existence, to say the least.

I was running on the treadmill, building up a good sweat, and occasionally thoughts that serve as the stimulus for some of my brog posts come to mind.  During my general state of discontent with the world, it occurred to me that the gym, but more specifically the act of physical exercise seems to be a great outlet from the rest of my small little world.

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If four-leaf clover luck actually existed

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

I’d probably be a very happy person, who is privileged to have lots and lots of good fortune.  These are all four (and a few five, and one six)-leaf clovers that I’ve found in my backyard since like March.  It’s safe to say that there are at least 150 of varying sizes in this pile, and plenty more that have been discovered and eaten by cats or the dog.

Needless to say, if four-leaf clovers actually granted good luck, I’d probably be a pretty happy person.

Unfortunately, things don’t necessarily work out that way.

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Therapeutic writing

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Lately, I’ve been in some kind of a weird mood.  I can’t quite say that it’s one of those obnoxious bouts of depression or anything, because if that was truly the case, then nothing could make me feel momentarily good when good things happen, and that hasn’t been the case.  It’s just that lately, it seems like life is really odd feeling at the moment, and the more I try to work things out in my head, the more it seems like it’s not going to get any simpler any time soon, and that there’s a whole slew of changes and things on the horizon that seem kind of daunting and/or things I can’t yet get myself mentally prepared for yet.

There was a period of time last week, where I felt this monumental weight on my head, and I had this overwhelming desire to write something that I might have regretted had I posted it.  It’s hard to explain why I wanted to write it so bad, but in hindsight, I’m glad that I wasn’t so rash as to actually post it, because I think it might have been a little too personal, and frankly something I’d probably regret publishing to the interwebs.  But for all intents and purposes, there’s a word document that has all this ominous text on it, but I’m pretty sure it’ll never see the light of day.

The thing is that simply writing it out, even if I didn’t post it, alleviated me of that mental weight that I felt for some reason.  Although nobody except for me will probably ever read it, I have to say that it really felt good jotting these words down nonetheless.  I will have to remember such a tactic the next time I’m feeling mentally overwhelmed, and I’d implore others to explore this tactic, to see if it works for them.  To some capacity, I’m exercising it right now myself, because I feel like writing something, but am not intending on writing anything that I might regret posting.

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The anatomy of a blue day

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Typically whenever I’m feeling blue, I can usually take solace in the notion that I can sleep it off, and I’ll be alright the following morning.  Logically, it doesn’t make any sense other than a convenient literal idea that we’re closing the book on one day, and that the next day is truly a brand new page for us to begin writing on.  But usually it works, and things simply feel better just because it’s not the same day when you were feeling down.

Such is kind of the case at the time I’m writing this now, as I do feel a little bit better than I did the day prior despite the fact that other than downtrodden emotions in my mind, there was absolutely nothing physically wrong with me.  However, this doesn’t mean that I can’t continue to think about and try and hypothesize the things in my head that put me in a dour mood.

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Tears don’t come easy for this cowboy

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

When I was in the midst of one of my low points of my latest funk, I was sitting there in my room feeling crappy and alone and helpless and that my life was shit and going nowhere, and there was a part of me the felt like perhaps some tears were necessary.  I was by myself and there would be no shame in shedding tears in front of nobody, and frankly I thought that it might be therapeutic or something like that.  So I’m sitting there, and trying to manipulate my emotions to where I’d be sad enough for the faucets to start dripping.

They didn’t.  They never came.

A long time ago, when I was like 14 or 15, I was pretty involved with my church.  Obviously it all changed when I got my driver’s license, became disenchanted with the bullshit hypocrisy of the people I went to church with, and grew tired of how superficial and petty people were in a place where acceptance was quite literally preached.

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Negativity

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

I hate my life right now, and I don’t know what to do about it.

I feel so utterly alone these days, and I don’t even know where to go where to find people I trust to discuss my problems. Family is out of the question because I cannot discuss anything with them without the underlying judgment for my life’s decisions. I don’t want to burden others with my mental weight, or I don’t frankly feel comfortable enough attempting to unload my problems with just any people.

Any attempts I make at trying to do something good, something fun, or anything that might bring me back to a happier place are constantly derailed. Be it the weather, conflicting schedules, things I perceive as inconsideration or selfishness of others, or just apathy on account of being depressed, I just am having a real difficult time in shaking this funk.

The worst part is that I’m fully aware that the trapped feeling I feel is imposed upon me by nobody but myself, and there’s the chance that I’m being too cautious about being too careful with those around me. I feel like I’m always in a state of walking on egg shells, and that everyone is tippy toeing around egg shells around me themselves.

I want to scream and yell out all my problems and hope that someone hears me and can be a stereotypical pillar of a personal support structure, but at the same time I don’t want to clarify issues and drop names, because I don’t necessarily think that solves anything either. So I remain quiet and stewing, which I know isn’t healthy either, but it seems like the safest bet until a better solution arises.

Underlying all these issues is the inherent fear that I’m turning into my dad; a miserable, solitary island of a man who may have felt all these things at some point in his life, but like me might constantly feel that bottling it up is better.

Life is not good right now. I am unhappy and I don’t know what do to about it.