Salvation, thy name is exercise

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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The anatomy of a blue day

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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Negativity

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.

I have been made unhappy

And I am disappointed with all involved parties and factors that have led to this unfortunate state of being.  Dare I say, I am harboring some resentment, which we all know it not necessarily the healthiest thing to be doing, but feelings like this don’t happen unless we believe it to an extent, no matter how much we try to rationalize and look at it with a level head.

My life is going nowhere.

And this has nothing to do with it being Valentine’s Day tomorrow.  Contrarily, I’m actually a romantic at heart and was thinking of writing something thoughtful and slightly bittersweet tomorrow, but I have a feeling my mood’s been too shit on, and I’m not going to want to anymore.

The person people forget about

Sometimes it feels like I could get away with grand larceny solely based on the fact that I’m apparently a fairly forgettable person. Strangers and people I don’t know at all that well, sure that’s understandable, but lately it really feels like people closer to me forget about me as well. It’s little things too, but still somewhat noticeable to a hyper-analyzer like myself, and when enough of them happen in a cluster it really begins to eat at my conscience.

In the end, it doesn’t make me mad as much it’s just a little disheartening from time to time, but it just really makes me want to further distance myself from people, which completely has the capability of making things even worse if I let it get to me like an 18-year old teenager.

I know I’ve pigeon-holed myself to be somewhat of a loner over the last six or seven years, but I still exert effort in maintaining relationships with people. But it’s times where I feel like I do right now, that I think that I have more consideration towards others than others have consideration towards me. It’s like my time, participation or existence isn’t not important, but is very much negligible. It’s not that I always want to be a loner, but I also don’t go out of my way to act in manners that would make me undesirable to some occasional consideration from others. Apparently, that’s not the right course of action either.

This feeling, like every other, will eventually dissipate and wash away, but damn if it doesn’t suck when it is lingering around. I just kind of dislike everyone and my fuse gets short(er), and it’s kind of a downward spiral until I wake up one day and the feeling is gone.

A late night urge to write

Oddly to say it, but it’s been a while since I made a post like this.  If it’s not obvious, I tend to do a lot of my writing well in advance, and post them on a daily basis, to give off the impression that I’m churning out brog posts on a daily basis.  I hate to kill the reality, but that’s not always entirely true.  I still contend that I’m the most dedicated blogger I know as well as out there, since I’ve been doing this regularly for over twelve years now, but this is a little glimpse into the reality that is my own.  I write pretty consistently on a daily basis, but there are stretches of time where I actually don’t have the time to write something, every single day.

Anyway, this is something I haven’t done in a while; a post where I’ve started writing with little or no real objective, and where I’ll actually hit “post” upon completion or when I don’t feel like writing anymore, and it will go up in at real of time as there ever is, instead of hitting “save as draft,” and saving it until Monday, because I tend to not really do much, if any, writing over the weekends, because I’m lazy like that, and frankly people don’t really use the internet on weekends aside from needs, sports scores, or Facebook; along those monotonous ways.

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Writer’s funk ain’t no fun

I’m still in the midst of this writer’s funk, where I feel like I want to write something, but I simply don’t know what I want to write about lately.  It’s hard to explain how I’m feeling these days; I can’t say that I’m in one of my bouts of depression or being all ronery-emo, because I don’t really think I am.  Work is boring and stagnant, but it’s not like I didn’t know this was going to be the status quo when I took this job.  I’m working out and exercising along the same clip, and I feel physically fine, and mentally too, for the most part.

Yet, I can’t really find or think of anything remotely interesting to write about these days, to which that puzzles me a bit.  Usually, I lean onto local news, or try to find something remotely interesting on the internet to spark some train of thought worthy to put into words.  But Atlanta news is pretty stagnant and predictably boring, and nothing makes me want to write about racist agendas and the obvious racial bias that “my fair city” exhibits on such a regular basis.  Not to mention the fact that all the local Atlanta news outlets are money-grubbing rags that recycle the same news anyway.

The Atlanta Braves blog I occasionally write for, I’ve been informed that there are going to be some changes with.  Although it’s nothing really that serious, it does make me wonder if I want to continue to obligate myself with writing about baseball on a weekly basis.  Obviously, my fandom with baseball has grown a little disenchanted over the last three seasons, but I kind of wonder if this was an opportunity to dive head-first into trying to re-invigorate it, or if I just want to stop outright.  Sometimes I think that my position of floating in the middle isn’t necessarily the best idea.

Speaking of baseball, it’s not that I don’t love the game any less than I used to, but here’s an interesting fact: I’ve been to one Braves game all season.  I’ve been to more baseball games at Coors Field in Denver, than I have at home in Atlanta.  I’ve seen as many games in Detroit and Miami as I have at home in Atlanta.  It’s not that I don’t enjoy going to the ballpark, it’s just that the idea of going alone isn’t what it used to be.  I tell you, one of these days I’m just going to have to buckle down and get on board with an 81-game plan, and make my damndest effort to do an entire 81-game season.

Maybe this is the kind of slump that happens when I don’t really do anything in my spare time.  I’ve been spending a lot of time reading lately, and I have to admit that since I started using my iPad as a Kindle, I’ve been reading a ton of books, and I’m finding it more of a bear than anything else when I force myself to read a physical book again, but my declaring particular authors as “physical book only,” it’s something that I’m not going to abandon any time soon.

But my list of options of things to do when I’m at home is a little stale, and makes me think that it’s contributing to my overall mental stagnancy lately.  All I do when I’m at home as of late is either read, play LoL, or watch DVR’d shows.  I could be a little bit more productive and try to do some cleaning, but when 95% of the clutter in the house isn’t mine, it’s somewhat unappealing and unrewarding to even fathom, let alone do, especially when it feels like it’s just going to have to happen again in a week.

Perhaps I need more activities to do in my spare time, to stimulate my brain into wanting to write about something.  That’s usually what normally happens, when I really find inspiration to write, while I’m doing something else, creating the false conundrum that I need to address and write about something while the iron is hot, but oh noes, I suddenly don’t seem to have the time to do such.  Perhaps I should actually address these projects for Dragon*Con while there’s still plenty of time in advance, as opposed to trying to get everything done in the month of August like I ended up doing last year.

But until then, this writer’s funk blows.  I like having something a little more focused to write about.