That Moment Again

You can’t tell, but my hands are shaking.  Just a bit.

Fingers still hitting the correct keys, still within an acceptable variable spread.  But they shake, like dampened oscillations, trying to find resonance, trying to break out.

I don’t know how much of this others can tell, but it has been over a year since I last truly felt like myself.  Since I have felt that I was completely here.  Even that is an exaggeration, and at the same time not.  It comes and goes.

Not saying that I did not have issues before.  But I am no longer allowing myself to block it and pretend it does not exist, no longer allowed to downplay their importance.  It is so much easier to deal with things simply by telling yourself that they are unimportant, that you do not care.  At least it is for me.  If I decide I do not care about something, it might as well not exist, my mind won’t give it any processing time.  But I can’t do that anymore, because I decided that I would not allow myself to arbitrarily decide if I cared or did not care about certain things.  So I suppose this was the first time I have actually tried to deal with my problems.

I have been talking with some friends of late.  I do talk with people now and then.  I go through spurts, of desperately needing to be around people, of having to force myself to connect, of wanting nothing to do but burrow into a warm cavity and stay there.  Except my dreams have not been pretty places recently and they feel far too real.

Part of this is guilt.  It  has been a year, I should be over this by now.  Am I just using this as a crutch?  Why do I still feel like I am struggling?

I still cannot talk about him, cannot even write about him without feeling like crying.  I wonder if I could make myself cry on command now.  So  because I fear that I am annoying in talking about these things.  After all who wants to hear depressing things?  And the few I have talked about this with, I feel like I keep saying the same things to you.  It must be annoying.  Sorry.  So, feel free to stop reading.  The following is really just going to be some sort of rant.  Just going to write whatever pops into my head.

[Edited Note: I do not want pity, do not want you to feel sorry for me.  I am not trying to get anyone’s attention.  I am doing this for myself.  I am writing and allowing this to be public so I cannot pretend to myself that any of this is not real.]

NANOWRIMO BEGINS!!!

Yes, it does deserve three exclamations AND all-caps.  For those who still are unfamiliar with NaNoWriMo, it is the National Novel Writing Month (aka November).  Where thousands of people across the nation and, nay, across the world write together, encourage one another, and compete (in good spirit) to reach the goal of 50,000 words.

I won in 2008 and did not aim to win in 2009 but did reach my personal goal which was to actually complete a (not so short) short story.  And this year, I do not intend to aim to win (academics needs to be priority #1 right now), but I do intend to participate.

And for a non-serious participant, I think I am doing quite alright: 2488 words first day/night.  At the same time I do realize that it was/is easier for me to just write this one because I ended up deciding to do a story that I really don’t care that much about.  Well, I suppose we shall see what comes out of this in ~30 days!