Another update

I’ve taken to blogging about once a week in order to keep a regular schedule, but tonight I feel the need to write more.

This past week was pretty difficult for me, general quandaries and all, and as stupid as it sounds my audition was a big part of it. I’m still dealing with all the emotional crap in my life, but I’ve got friends who are helping me out and I’m extremely grateful to them, I really don’t think I can ever express just how much I appreciate their help.

It really hit hard when I brought a friend over for the first time in years. I don’t mean someone I’ve known for awhile, I mean someone coming over for the first time. I never really noticed the silence of my house, I try to fill it with music and movies, but while we were watching TV after dinner she looks around whispers, “Is it always this awkward?” I looked up and for the first time I noticed my parents sitting in separate rooms, my brother on his computer, the house in silence aside from the TV. It was nothing new, but I never realized how odd it actually was until that moment. The silence was thick and heavy, everyone in my family is a stranger to me.

I know she didn’t mean to point it out, to make things more awkward for me, but it gave me a lot to think about. In many ways I’ve spent my entire life alone, living with people who I’m connected to only by blood. I feel like I have heard so many stories, that I don’t know what is true anymore. I don’t know what I’m saying really, I just feel like I’m all alone in this big house. There are people here, but we just pass by like strangers in the hall.

I just want to be needed, to be held and wanted. I want to feel that connection that I haven’t felt in so long.

Sushi (or Week 3)

I think it's safe to say that everyone reading this knows the situation that I've been in the past few weeks. Thus far I've held up pretty well, preexisting quirks aside. I'm going through day by day, doing my best to keep it together. I'm also not drinking, as much as I might want to at times, it would be easier to lose myself partying right now and I don't want to go down that road if I can avoid it.

Tonight three things happened which have sent me on a little bit of a downward slide. First, my mom started moving out, taking the stuff from my apartment that's in boxes with her. She also asked me to help her get her utilities turned on at her new place. Second, my dad stopped wearing his ring today, first time I've ever seen him without it. The finality of it all hit me when we went out for dinner. We went to a local sushi restaurant, something I usually enjoy but tonight it's just one less meal that we'll have together. Sushi was always something we did to celebrate, a symbol of happy times. Now it's just a bitter reminder of the fact that the pieces of my childhood I liked are becoming tainted by current events.

Everyday I wake up and feel like I'm still asleep. I stumble through my routine and go to school, slipping into the persona that began as a protective shield and is now more like a constant companion whispering in my ear. I want to open up, to share myself with other people, but instead I laugh and joke. I deflect questions and serious discussion with jokes. I throw obstacles in the way of people I'm trying to get to know. It's not a new problem, but i sabotage my relationships because I don't feel worthy enough to be in one. I'm angry at my parents for dropping this on me, and angry at myself for all the times in the past I wished they would.

I just can't take this shit, I want to throw myself into something, I want to work and release my frustration. But I seriously blew it at my audition, I froze. I know it sounds stupid but I needed this. I needed this audition to go well so I wouldn't be alone with myself. I'm the cliché, the artist who's afraid to be alone with his own thoughts. I don't feel worthy of any of my talents, I don't feel worthy of praise given, I just feel inadequate. I apologize constantly, I seek the approval of others while trying to stay true to myself, whoever that is anymore. I've begun to discover myself again and I'm afraid that I'll slide back into my old pattern of simply hiding myself inside a stronger persona to keep from being hurt.

I want to stand in the light and feel the warmth on my face but the dark beckons with her siren call.

Two weeks in

By now those of you who read my blog already know what’s been going on, and those of you who don’t well you aren’t reading this any way so who cares. Sorry, that’s a bit rude but I’m in kind of a crappy mood tonight.

It’s been almost two weeks wince my parents told me they’re getting a divorce, and thus far I’ve handled it fairly well around them. I’m not drinking, I’m not being reckless, I’m going to and participating in my classes, and I’m getting ready to audition in a few days. By looking at the way I’ve been getting through I guess you’d say I look like I’m taking it well. Inside I feel like shit. I want to just go out and do something stupid, who cares right?

I’m glad to have friends who care and have sent me emails and comments, giving me advice and supporting me through this, but I feel like I’m just drifting. I’ve moved away from a lot of my friends, I suck at trying to reconnect with old friends, and I feel like any new friends I make I’l be leaving them in a year so how can you really get close in that short a time?

I’m a man lost at sea, searching for the harbor. My ship is sturdy and reinforced with the love and support of my friends, but I’m still tossed about inside it.

I’ve been tweeting through the week about how I feel, and I’ve ben throwing some things up on facebook, although I’m more open about my tweets since less people read them apparently, but who knows.

Anyway, earlier I tweeted:

so here's a problem I'm supposed to write a love poem for my poetry class and I can't get past the first line w/o my life getting in the way

I’m having a huge issue with keeping my real life separate from my creative life right now, something which is normally okay but i’m in a class now where we share our works. I don’t know how comfortable I am with sharing all this with people I don’t know. And yes the irony of posting this on the web does not escape me. I’m just having a hard time dealing with my issues on my own, and to have the outlet I desperately need, critiqued by a group of people who don’t know what’s going on. I don’t want to explain every time I read my work, and I don’t like that the fear of criticism is affecting my work. I want to go back to writing and creating on my own terms, writing for me and damn the opinions of everyone else.

I’m especially shaken by the assignment to write a poem about love. To me it’s a foreign emotion, while at the same time it’s incredibly familiar.

I can say I love animals, I love dogs, I love nature, I love the theatre, I love my friends, but what about romantic love? How do you know you’re in love? How do you appropriately capture that feeling in words and set them on a page?

Right now I can say I’m attracted to someone, that I think she’s a great friend, that I would like to see if we could be more. I’ve told her so but it seems like I’m always chasing the ones who “aren’t ready” or just aren’t interested. It’s weird that these things just don’t add up for me, or I guess it’s more of my timing just kinda sucks. Or that I’m overanalyzing things and I actually do have a chance but I’m the idiot who just can’t see it.

The poem just makes things harder and more confusing, I want to write it generic, but then it feels weak and cliche, so I aim for slightly personal and end up with overly personal. I don’t write poetry or stories with specific people in mind for the most part, because it makes things awkward when feelings aren’t the same. I ended up writing a short story and using a character’s voice to craft a poem. A cheap cop out that’s actually pretty transparent.

I’m also having an issue with my poetry coming out angry. I want something emotional and powerful but it seems like all the happiness I have right now exists only in the moment and right on the surface. I open up my mental box of emotions and my frustration just flows out.

I know I’ve written some lengthy blog posts lately and I feel like there will probably be a few more in the near future. I really want to write about something happy and tell you all that everything’s alright but I honestly don’t know if it will. I look ahead and I know that things will balance eventually but I just feel like every time I start to climb out of my hole another mountain of shit gets dumped on me.

I want to be selfish, to say “fuck the world”, go out and just pick up anyone, lose myself in shallow desires and forget who I am. I can’t do that. I’m too firmly attached to my beliefs, flexible as they may be, and who I’ve come to define myself as. I can be an ass, but I’m not a asshole. I can be mean, but I’m not a bully. I may ignore people, but I’m not a jerk. I’m not prefect, but I just can’t go against my own solidly fluid morals. I cannot hurt others, or rather I will not if I can possibly avoid it. I’m the friend, the supporting character in everyone’s life. I want to be the leading man, the guy who gets the girl, the underdog who comes out on top. Instead I’m the best friend of the underdog, the guy who no one remembers when the movie’s over.

Until next time, well that’s the question isn’t it.

One Week Later

Exactly one week ago my parents called my brother and myself down to the living room for a chat. Now before I go on, you should understand some things about my family. First, we don’t talk that often unless there’s a problem. Second, we never all get together in one room to talk about something unless it’s a huge deal. Third, well I guess you really only need to know the first two to get a sense of the apprehension I felt while descending onto the main floor and sitting on the uncomfortable, yet fashionable, couch. Come to think of it, uncomfortable yet fashionable seems to sum up my home life pretty well.

Anyway, to get back to the story, my brother and I took our places, wondering what was wrong, what we may have done, who might have died. Instead we looked across as our mom said “Your Father and I have been talking and...” “you’re getting a divorce” I interjected. I was right. There was a lot of “it’s not about you kids” “We weren’t keeping it a secret, we just didn’t want to bother you.” Really my first reaction upon hearing that they didn’t want to trouble us was an emphatic “Bullshit.” I start school tomorrow, 9 days after they told me they were getting a divorce. I also get to continue working on an audition piece that I have no idea how long it should be.

Right now I’m completely up in the air, so out of it that I don’t know what day it is, or what time it is. I’m a functioning zombie. I went to work all last week, I went to see friends. I got my books, went and got new clothes, but I’m completely on autopilot. If someone were to tell me I was about to die I’d probably just say “Oh, that’s nice” and keep on going. I keep feeling like I’m stuck in a weird dream. It’s not a bad dream, and it’s not a good dream, it’s just like a dream that I can’t wake from.

In my current distracted state I took a leap of faith, which really was more of a leap of numb dissociation and told her how I felt, asked her about taking things to the next level. I wasn’t shot down, but it didn’t go as well as I had hoped it would. So now I sit here, in the middle of a family that was over years ago but is just now starting to break away, no real relationship experience to tell me how to proceed with her. I feel a bit like Dr. Horrible when I keep righting her. Only it’s not a vlog, and I’m not singing, and I’m not a super-villian, and I’m nowhere near as cool as NPH. So now that we have that settled I guess I’ll get back to the point.

I’m lost. I don’t know how to interact with my parents. I keep hearing more than I really care to know about each side and their plans. My kitchen stuff, still boxed up from my apartment, is going with my mom to her new place along with some of my lamps, a few of my office supplies, and some other crap that I don’t seem to have a say about. I’m almost 21 fucking years old and I feel like a kid with no say in what goes on.

I have a few useful though frustrating abilities in my mental arsenal which I’m bringing into full play now. First is my ability to dissociate from everything and just drift numbly observing everything to write down later as a piece of fiction. I know that I probably shouldn’t pour as much of myself into my work as I do, but I don’t know any other way, my writing is mainly for me anyway and if other people like it, good for them. Second, I can block out a lot of my memories, a kind of selective amnesia. I forget anything painful that I don’t want to remember, it resurfaces eventually, but I can shove it way back in a box and compartmentalize. The third is not so much a mental trick as it is an acting trick, I pull on whatever mask I need to make people think I’m okay. I go about my day unable to open up because of my instinctual reaction to protect myself from the world. I’ve talked about it before, but I feel like I need to project the strongest image of myself that I can and try to become that person. I present a version of myself that people like, because I feel like most people would hate or at least be very uncomfortable with the person I am.

Everyone who I’ve actually told about my struggles with being bipolar have seen who I am, and know some of what I’ve been through. Those of you who read this and that I went to high school with, I’m sorry. I never fully presented who I was then, and I’ve also changed a lot from who I was. I’m still a good listener, I can still keep your secrets, but I’m not the guy who is content to help others anymore. I thought I could, there was a time when I would lay down my life to protect my friends, but now I don’t know if I could. I love my friends, I really do, but I’m much less logical than I used to be. I guess part of it is I’ve learned to compartmentalize so well that I basically use three aspects of my personality now. The writer, the lover, and the friend. I am a combination of all three, but all three have a say in what i do. To clarify a bit, and I know it makes me sound like a bit of an ass, I don’t really do relationships anymore. I want to have fun, to connect and be involved but with the understanding that it will lead where it leads, and if it becomes serious great if not, at least we had fun and can still be friends. As a writer everything I see can make a story, everything has something that needs to be expressed. Parts of my life find their way into my stories and poems, oftentimes I have to shelve my work because it’s too painful, or a story is too much like a real event with real people.

I’m incredibly grateful that my friends have been there to help me through this and, as weird as it may sound, I’m grateful that I can share it with you all at once. I’m still confused and I want to talk to all of you, but the fact that I only have to really put this out there once, without all the heartache and pain of retelling the story, makes it easier to be honest about it all.

It’s late now and I have to take my car into the shop in the morning before class, but I’ll write more later. My cell phone is always on and you can also reach me on facebook, twitter or at lhocke89@gmail.com. Really I do hope to hear from all of you.

Until Next Time, I might look okay in public, but if you see me when I think no one’s looking you’ll see it.