I just realized my level of concern with couples, relationships and marriage is even more abnormal than I thought. My brain is constantly rambling about that, in unstoppable cycles. People don’t get lost like this.
Then there’s this sharing thing, a quest for some sort of redemption and love. Somehow I have the expectation of my words being gratifying to someone and my loneliness ceases. This is completely out of reality.
My suffering, which I call loneliness, is nothing such. It’s depression, pure and simple. It is a chemical imbalance in my brain and the solution is not to be found in a companion. It is all up to me. On treatment and healthy habits. Looking obsessively for a companion certainly isn’t one.
I must find a healthy way of living. This quest for love must be abandoned. I should focus on having fun and make friends. I haven’t done so on childhood and on my teens and now I’m paying for it.
I must silence the voices in my head that launch me to this neverending romantic enterprise and just be outside of my head. It’s time to receive the world, instead of making up one.
We live only once and most of my life has been a total waste. This is not a middle-age crisis digression. I have not lived. I’ve been only witnessing existence. Though I’m aware of this for a long time, I haven’t find a way of changing my way of living yet.
I suppose my frustrations are the same as everyone else’s, namely the lacking of love, intimacy and sex, all three connected in a relationship with someone not too demanding. I think this is the key for the all thing. People demand too much from each other, wasting their own and others’ lives with resentment and remorse. Demand should be replaced by acceptance, as long as abuse remains rejected.
It horrifies me the frustration I witness in most relationships and marriages. Such horror started with the divorce of my parents when I was a kid. I became obsessed with love, connection, and all fantasies about soulmates and their sexual fusion. This made me a hungry and scary animal, incapable of anything casual or any abusive commitment, and highly intolerant to the presentation of sex as a favor or gift from women to men. The idea of deserving the opening of her legs is extremely violent to me. Things only work for me when both do our best to feel horny all the time. This requires the effort to excell in all of the spectrum of a relationship, and a profound knowledge, respect and acceptance of the limitations of our companion.
No wonder I feel my life totally wasted. I should have learned to embrace much less than this and invest on hedonism. The thing is I don’t know how and I’m not getting younger. More, I’m afraid of the hedonistic approach being an absolute hell to me. I can’t get rid of my hunger for connection.
I feel my life is wasted because of the absence of connection. I’ve been connected a few times, but unrealistic demands, intolerance and abuse eroded everything. I grieve every day for these losses and long for someone who finally gets it, or who makes me get something else worth fighting for.
Meanwhile, life keeps getting wasted.
I have mixed feelings on blogging about myself. I don’t know whether I’m vain or in need for attention, but there’s this urge to share what comes in to my mind and the insane hope of getting some love in return. This is the behavior of a child.
Since I was said four years ago to have a mental illness for most of my life without being aware of it, sharing my emotions became even more urgent. I found myself not needy but desperate for attention and love. As time passes, I’m getting more unbearable.
Somehow I have the idea that my opinions matter, that my rubbish is valuable contribution to a better world. Knowing there’s absolutely nothing new on my epiphanies, I take refuge on aesthetics, claiming to create new items of beauty that will boost the humanity within us. I think of myself as a kickass artist.
Sharing my views and emotional processing is the chore of my art, wich I take as universal, as part of the most intimate common ground we share as human beings. It would probably be wiser to keep this apart from the promotion of my services as a professional illustrator, but I can’t find a way of achieving that. It all goes in the same package.
You’re hiring more than a drawing machine, folks. Sorry about that.