Krush, Kill n Destroy

•July 23, 2009 • 2 Comments

The train tracks close to my temporary home are quite exotic. I have never lived close to a train station before. There’s a romantic feel to it. The steep climb up a little wooden bridge, overlooking the train tracks to the imposing figure of the train itself. You know it takes just a little step over the edge as the train makes its way northward to get krushed and ground up into minced Nav. I have contemplated it many times since coming here. The incredible ease of taking one’s life. It hasn’t been an easy transition for me, moving to New Zealand. I don’t know a soul, loneliness hits me hundredfold in this region. I’m scared. Scared that I’ll fail at college and I’ll fail at my budding semi-new online relationship. With such anxiety, I’m bound to panic and this has only exacerbated my depression. The fear is choking me. Every night I think about that train, about being krushed under its heavy weight, slammed into oblivion. I fear my depression has made me a terrible mess. Chaotic thoughts, one step away from instant death. Why do they put those yellow lines warning us of the train threat? It just makes it worse. Am I insane in wanting to be krushed, killed and destroyed?

I need help.

Someone help me avoid the path to self-destruction.

I’ll make it worth your while.


When will it stop!?

•July 7, 2009 • Leave a Comment

I just want it to stop! It’s pouring rain tonight. Cold, damp, dark. It’s the perfect habitat for misery. With no one to hold, no one to talk to but little icons on my instant messenger clients. No voice, reassuring or otherwise. This rain will pass, just as I’m sure this low, down, dirty feeling will eventually subside. It’s a given. I’m like a yo-yo, twisting in a circle as I’m lowered down to the ground. A few bumps and bruises and with a little jerk, I’m spiraling all the way up again. It’s a hell of a ride! Queasiness sets in. Ever have that feeling where there’s a million bugs inside you, eating away at your stomach walls, ready to spread out and contaminate your other organs? there’s so many metaphors I can use. So many ways to describe this… I’m trying to pick and choose the right words to spell out, as accurately as I can, what I’m feeling right now. Misery? Sadness? Hate? Loneliness? Depression? Which word shall I use? My mind is a mesh of jumbled words. Feel like I’m caught in the middle of this busy city full of drunks, stumbling about, knocking into me. Ah, there I go with the metaphors again. A fly caught in a web? An elderly man on his deathbed waiting for the end. How ignorant of me to assume that’s how a dying man feels or how a fly feels caught in that silky smooth death grip of a spider’s web. How not so ignorant of me to identify these feelings as depression. Or is that ignorance? blinded by society and it’s perception of mental illness? I’m rambling aren’t I? Don’t know how to stop that. I hurts, hurts so bad inside me right now. I’ve taken my prozac, my zolpidem. I’m tempted to take a few of my dad’s pills and sleep an everlasting sleep. Do I have the guts to do it? I don’t think so. I’ve lost friends, made enemies and now it’s time to walk away from it all. I’ve even found love or what I think is love. Heart racing, incessant smiling. Is that not love? If it is, why do I still feel self-doubt, self-loathing, depression!? Someone give me some easy answers, some pills to dull the pain. There’s an easy way out but with it comes no 2nd chance. It either you do or you don’t. When you do, you’re done, done, done in. There’s no checkpoint with auto-save. You end it, you start again. No wait, you don’t. There’s no restart. So tell me what choice do I have? continue down this perpetually dark road or veer off into the bushes and over that awe inspiring cliff where the tourists of yesterday sang merry songs and hugged merry kids. “Let’s all celebrate our vacation with a picture, kids!” But no, poor kid had to see something. He screams “Mommy!!! Mommy!!!” She races to his side, obviously worried, preparing her arms for the onslaught of hugs and crying kids. There he lay, or rather I lay. Birds pecking at my half-eaten face, picking me off one by one. The noose around my neck still as tight as ever. Can you imagine a man in his early twenties, a brown man, dangling off the rails at some historical monument, some amazing, breathtaking scene, feet dangling, eyes long since plopped out by the birds. Can you imagine what those kids saw? yes, it was/is a terrible site. That will be me or may be me. I don’t know. Note the zolpidem kicking in? Well you should. I’m rambling x2, it’s getting worse. Quickly, I must leave…


Random shot in the dark

•July 2, 2009 • 1 Comment

Was having lunch at the Royal Suva Yacht Club today and took a few pics from my iPhone. Nothing spectacular and I suppose not even halfway decent but I do like them.

Feeling lonely

Check out a few more shots on my flickr photostream.


•July 1, 2009 • Leave a Comment

Maybe I really am too dependent on others. I don’t really know. All I can say with absolute certainty is I am feeling extremely down today. Feels like I just got stabbed and every second, the knife is twisted deeper and deeper into my body. It’s pushed it’s way so deep I doubt it’ll ever be able to come out. My blood seeps, spilling dark red on the floor. Oil slick red, the kind only a Texan would love. Painkillers out of reach, a foot stool too high. Not that it matters. I can barely move. I close my eyes…give me a minute…we’ll see if they ever open…

Busy week with more to come

•June 30, 2009 • 1 Comment

My days are filled with activity. My departure from this anti-paradise looms near. Eventually I shall be rid of all this weight. The wounds shall gradually heal with a combination of antidepressants, love and independence. Ironic how I mention independence with antidepressants. Of course I am referring to my being on my own, away from my immediate family. I hope this need to struggle for survival will give me the motivation I need to live. Complacency has made me a withered old flower, just waiting for the last wisp of wind to blow away my discolored petals. I hope to see a real psychiatrist while I’m there. One that feels compelled to help me and not just prescribe. I do want the meds but I want them to help. M&M’s have more of an effect on me. If I could take an M&M every hour I would no doubt be much happier.

That is it for now. I have taken my daily dose of anti-D and I can already feel that settling fog that is Prozac.

Sick…mind, body and soul.

•June 25, 2009 • 2 Comments

It’s close to 3am here in Fiji. Yes, I live in Fiji. It’s considered paradise by many but it really is just like any other place, full of crazies, disease and unemployment. It’s a filthy spot on the world map and if you peer down from horribly interfaced hell that is Google Earth, you’ll see a dark spot, dark within dark, the sort of dar that’s darker than dark. That dark is me. Sure I’m brown but I’m not being literal here. My darkness is a colored extension of my mind at this current moment. Dark thoughts everywhere, come one, come all! The urge to take a hundred pills and sleep an everlasting sleep is at the fron of my mind. I’ve used up the last of my Zolpidem so I don’t have anything to put me to sleep now. I’ve taken my cold & flu meds but that unfortunately doesn’t seem to knock me out. So I’m sitting at my computer, typing out all the depressing thought racing through my head. I need an outlet. I fear I’m going to push away one of the few friends I have by speaking further ill on MSN messenger. It’s the trend, you see. I never have anything for too long. Be it love, money, friendship or happiness. The only feeling that stays with me is deep, debilitating sadness. I don’t know what depression is, I don’t pretend to. By saying I’m depressed, I just feel like one of the flock. It’s so common these days. The term is almost trite.

“I am depressed” – No that doesn’t seem to help me.

“I am sad, lonely, tired of living this futile life and want out” – Getting warmer.

“I am nothing and will continue to be nothing” – Bingo!

Do my words make sense? I suppose not. To be fair, nothing I ever say makes much sense. I’m a man of hypocrisy. I attempt to help the depressed by saying that which I barely believe myself. How can I be of any help? I feel as if my soul purpose in this world is to waste bandwidth and bless you lord for giving me such little bandwidth. Guess that’s a metaphor really. The lord provides me with life but oh so very little. Along the way, my packets are lost, somewhere in the bowels of TCP/IP. I am a dial-up connection ina¬† world of broadband. Of course there are others worse off than me so why am I so darn depressed? (Oh there we go with that D word again) I have food, clothes, a family (not particularly loving or caring but that may be due to our awkwardness with showing real emotion), a Macbook (getting old but still running), an iPhone (my second love) and a girl living millions of miles away who loves me so much. I don’t have many friends, if any, outside the internet but I have so much already. So why am I so bloody depressed? (I honestly hate that D word). My past? Barely had an eventful one. Spent most of my time playing video games.Maybe that’s what I’m missing; history. While living in Hawaii I had some good times but I don’t remember them too well. Coming here I’ve had nothing but misery and while I don’t remember exactly what brought that on in my childhood, I know it haunts me to this day.

So as I sit here, waiting for the drugs to kick in and make me drowsy enough to sleep, I ponder my existence, the futility of my being and just who’d care if I were to ‘end game’.

To those that I know reading this post, I am sorry for saying such disheartening things. I can not stop these thoughts.

I’m sorry for the jumbled mess that is this post. As you can see my mind is quite incoherent. Actually this post is a lot better than my mind. I wonder how bad I’ll feel when I stop writing. Too many “I’s” for one post.



•June 21, 2009 • 3 Comments

Having one of those downers. Thought Prozac was supposed to help me with this. Doesn’t seem to be doing a thing. I’d love to make some creative, imaginative post describing my mood, what I’m feeling right now but I can’t even string a few proper sentences together…

…and so I end this trivial post.

Wish I could end my life as easily as I end this post.