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And the alien did decree: "mentioning tidbits about injections and escape attempts"
That empty-guitar chime And I swear, this song is a cover, just as Baker's Street was. I couldn't find an album to listen to, nor a show to watch, nor an activity to do that made me feel good today. I worry that my depression tanked its way through my meds, and forced itself back in to play. Two things sum this day: laying on the couch, and that guitar-echo-chime in the Foo song. Two real events went down: The Andrew bit is the real telling one; I've never mentioned him here, I think -- in this journal, at least -- because the dude's been in the psych ward since February. He emailed me lately. Maybe I mentioned that? Long story short, he was a major player in my childhood. I was his alien princess compadre in the 3rd grade. He sang me songs in grade 6. We split in high school as bosom buddies; we've never recaptured it, but when we talk, we always muse that we really should have been there for each other. I know his mom thinks kindly of me, for paying some level of attention to him. Andrew's story is far more tragic than mine. Mine sounds like a cakewalk, in comparison to his. On a bad day, Andrew hallucinates like a motherfucker, and is visited by hellish visions. Not to mention, God talks to him. He's got a deal with depression, as well; depression, plus delusion, plus hallucination. No wonder the dude's 'away'. He got me to phone him, tonight, in his temporary facility. It's down by his parents' house, so, he'll be okay. He didn't tell me much of what's gone on in the 3-4 months (or whatever) he's been locked up for. The summary is that he skipped his meds, wandered around one early morning, got picked up by a cruising ambulance, and was shuffled around the local facilities a little. He barely detailed the hospital time, mentioning tidbits about injections and escape attempts. He's aloof on the best of days with personal info. Today, he was so gooned out that he lost focus a few times, and sounded so shaky that I briefly thought he'd been starved. His tone was slow, dull, for most of it. The only thing that really excited him was the trip. The trip -- I KNOW I've never mentioned it here. He wants to go across Canada, backpacking. I have my hesitancy.. but, it actually sounds like we're working out a doable plan: conditioning, and test-trip to a town an hour's drive away. We listed supplies, and so on. The dude got really in to it. I could almost picture the med-fog lifting from his eyes, and his hands breaking out in to their usual tremors. I actually could see this working. Well. Until I factor in that Andrew may or may not have learned about pill responsibility. The awkward tension thing. The very real possibility that things can go awry. I keep picturing us, stranded on the road somewhere, with one of us going bugshit. Other than that, this day was a complete waste. I skipped out on going to Jay's. Sometimes I get in to moods where I'm convinced that he's not going to want to see me every day/2-3 days in a row. Regardless of his insistence that it's all cool if I drop by, and do my little lurker thing.. I still remember a few months back wherein I actually DID come by like that, and he'd asked me not to. I went to the store with Cherish, a little after waking up for the second time. Things between my friends and I aren't going well. Especially friends like Cherish, Lev, sometimes Sarah. I don't even talk to the A&W Crew anymore. The Couple split up, and Taylor seems irked by me. When I sense disappointment on the other ends of my conversations, I stop being able to flow as a confident entity. With Taylor, I always fret that I seem too stupid, or too naive for her to WANT to talk to me -- based only on the way that I was in high school, being sort of a charismatic pessimist. Things with Cherish are sour because I'm fighting in my head the notion that maybe she ain't all that smart. She's insisted all of our time as friends that she's some untapped genius. Some dumbass part of me wants that to be true. Waits for her to show a talent at something more viable than describing movie plots. She wants me to think of her as a brilliant mind -- interests in B&W movies, classic 1900s novels. She never actually uses any of her interests as a beneficial topic aid. It's more that she obsesses over minutia and writes profiles or something for characters. Don't get me wrong, I like that she puts effort in to things. It's just.. nothing ever comes of it. Nothing gets finished. Lev seems irked with me, to go along with me being irked at him. I said something about Val calling the cops on him (because my Theory of the Week is that she's terrified of him). He said that seemed impossible. He didn't like that I went to that angle. He actually got up, left, and didn't say anything before signing out. We're back to a kind of 'blah' dialogue. Cherish says Lev's confessed an interest in her still. She thinks it's cute. Yeah. Am I the only girl not to be impressed with that, coming from a guy who asked to see her tits a day or so ago? How does this play out? L: Can I has see titz? Am I a jackass? |
You Missed: *DISCLAIMER Backlog:
Badly type text - Wednesday, Jan. 01, 2020 Yet another other entry - Sunday, Dec. 29, 2019 Damn near died - Sunday, Dec. 29, 2019 Boom Shalacka Lacka? - Saturday, Dec. 28, 2019 Circa 2010 |
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