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shadowvaen

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Home sick for the day.

I never call in to work, but the flu/fever (oddly out of season) 
got ahold of me over the weekend, so I made an exception.

So I've been a potato all day. Resting. Playing Alien: Isolation.

Then somehow I got on Youtube. I was eating poptarts, and I 
got to wondering...why are they "best eaten frozen" ?!?! I ended 
up watching an old pop tarts advertisement. Just don't ask guys, 
I cannot explain how I ended up watching pop tart ads on Youtube.

Then (and this is just as unexplainable) somehow I stumbled onto a video on Youtube
regarding a bunch of riots/gatherings over political drama. I'm sure you guys are probably
sick of all the politics lately. I know I am! Yet somehow I wasted 2-3 minutes of my life
watching these stupid people. I won't go into details, because it simply doesn't matter.

It made me sad; partially because I disagreed with what I was hearing.
And partially because what I saw was a bunch of people throwing a fit under the pretense
that they were standing up for what they believed in, or what they believed was right.
In reality I saw a lot of pent up negativity, and a lot of people just looking for a reason
to scream and throw a fit, to make some noise.

I didn't write this to bring up politics. I wrote this to share a thought I had whilst 
I watched the aforementioned Youtube video. I was thinking: "man, if aliens did 
exist and they somehow saw this, they'd want to wipe us out for sure."

I used to believe in aliens as a kid. I don't now that I'm an adult. But what an interesting thought!

...it reminds me of some of the plot points in the movie Prometheus.
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Time is like sand. And so much of it has slipped through the hourglass since 
the last time I visited here. Something about this site feels strange to me now.
Like it was so long ago and so much has changed. I'm not the person I was 
back then. That guy had some serious issues! I look back at some of the things 
I said or the (really really awful) poetry and I cringe a little bit. I guess as we
grow older we shed the skin of our former selves. I'm not saying I have wings
or an extra hand or anything, but in a lot of ways it feels like "evolving."

I used to get on here all the time. Back when I lived at home. Back when Mom
and Dad were wayyyyy different and every day was some sort of fight. I said things
back then and did things that I wish I hadn't done. The blame wasn't all on me or on
them. Things were rough and I made a lot of mistakes, I'll say a lot of it was the bad
situations and circumstances and me simply reacting to it all, but a lot of it was me 
being stubborn and angry and trying to figure it all out. Maybe those two things are 
the same. Maybe the anger was a reaction. I know I was REALLY angry and I pretty 
much left God behind in the wake of all of that. I never stopped believing, but I 
certainly wasn't trying to be the man I was supposed to be.

I think as a result of all of those things I became depressed. I fought with that for
years. If any of you guys from 3-4 years ago are still around, you know what I'm talking
about. 2010 was a year of first times--my first job, first college experience, first time 
really getting out on my own (I was homeschooled all my life prior to the college). And 
for whatever reason it seemed like people beat me down everywhere I went. At college 
I couldn't seem to fit in (not even in the anime club!). In particular there was one student
that just seemed like he went to class everyday just to talk down to me or be unpleasant.
At work I dealt with really judgmental people, people who treated me different than the 
others for seemingly no reason. I was kind to them, to all of them. It hurt to be treated
in a completely different way than how I was treating them. Looking back now I think
they must have seen how cracked and broken I was. People need a leg up. A confidence
boost. I was the perfect stepping stool to counter their low self esteem. No matter
what they were dealing with, here was some kid who was a total wreck who was
faring worse than they were. Like wolves taking down a wounded animal. I'm sure you 
guys have dealt with people like this, you know the types of jerkfaces I'm talking about.

I'm not writing all this because I want anyone to feel sorry about it.
I'm writing it because I've changed. I'm not the shadowvaen I was 7 years ago.
I've fought with the depression until about a year ago. It's a long story, but something
happened one day and it was one of those moments where you just know that God had
something to do with it. It's terrifying to say this, but in a lot of ways I'm happier than I've
ever been! I say terrifying because there's always that anxiety when you have so much
to lose. But...the depression feels broken. Finally. Once in awhile it feels like it's still
lingering, but those moments are few and far between.

Life won't ever be perfect, but in these recent times I've really started to see how 
blessed I am. When there are so many horror stories overtaking the news and the 
world is filled with so much malice and hate you start to realize that the issues 
you're facing aren't all that bad. I'm not sure why God has blessed me the way He
has. But I'm thankful for the life that I have lived. 

I'm thankful for each and every one of you people that helped me get through those
extremely dark days. Back then I didn't have anyone to talk to. Legit. Nobody. You 
guys were there. I haven't forgotten that. I wish I could help you guys, the way you guys
helped me. I'm not sure how many of you are still active, but from the bottom of my heart,
I want to say:

thank you. words cannot describe how much it helped me to have you guys behind me.
talking to me as I went through all those different things. you guys helped me become the 
man I am today. I hope that each and every one of you find what you're looking for in life.
I'd name everyone specifically but there are SOOOO many of you guys.
You all know who you are. Even if you're all mostly gone to the devices of life and never read
this, I hope you're all faring well. 

Life isn't perfect. Sooner or later the clouds will return as they always do. But I feel stronger. 
I'll be ready when the storm rolls in. I'm ready to turn the page and keep turning and live 
life to the absolute fullest that I possibly can. I pray you guys can do the same.
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Firstly, apologies. Inbox is full of old messages that should have been replied to ages ago. 

Second(ly)...how have you guys been?

So here I am again. It's been a LONG time since I last wrote. I didn't think I would ever write here again, honestly. It's too hard to find the time on my own to get on here and write. Even if I had the time to sit uninterrupted and write, the words probably wouldn't flow, anyway.

The memory of this place is bittersweet. So many of the old faces are gone. There's the memory of the good experiences that I've had on this site. Then there's the reason I started writing here in the first place, and suddenly it's not just a bittersweet memory to think upon, but a scar on my mind and soul, painful and humiliating to think about. The last four years of my life have ruined me, what little control I had spiraled out of my grip in 2010 and I was left with pieces to pick up and try and move on.

I did move on, but I've changed. I'm still paying for the decisions I made in 2010. Still haunted by things I've done and said before that year, actually.

Looking back...it's as if my whole life I've been broken, and I just didn't realize it until later on. Two decades and two years of letting negative voices in my head influence my life and dictate who I was...who I still am.

Fear. Doubt. Anger. Weakness.

Fear. Doubt. Anger.

The weakness was just a result of the choices I made, and from those choices other bad choices, and from all of that came more doubt and more anger and the cycle has continued. I can remember feeling some of these emotions as a kid. So I lied--the last four years didn't ruin me, they just broke me until I had to face the person I have always been.

I tell myself I can wake up and it'll all just have been a bad dream, that wasn't me, I didn't say that, I didn't feel that. I deny my humanity, I despise it. I can't function like others. I'm not like them, or like you guys. I'm something else. Something less. I've let the doubts creep in and I've made the wrong decisions and for the loss of my feelings and direction in life, I've become numb to everything and everyone. Selfish. I've become so ugly inside, my mind a tear in a page of words that can no longer be read.

This whole thing, all 100 of these journals and all of the ones on my other account...all of them have been like this. Two decades and two years of being a broken record. I come here and I spit this on the screen and it's never different.

But I don't write it for pity or sympathy. It's a factual update. I'm not who I want to be. So I want to change. Problem is...that's not as easy as it sounds. But I'll be damned if this is who I am for the rest of my life...I cannot let that happen. Because these words are as cold as my heart has become.

I started praying again recently. I don't know where to turn, it just feels like I'm sinking and there's no way anybody could possibly understand where I'm coming from--at least not in real life. So I prayed, and there's this odd sense of "it's okay" that washes over me. I can be having a terrible day, and if I pray, somehow I'm not quite as angry as I would normally have been. It's odd.

Honestly, I'm not so sure that everyone can change, but I'm hoping for the sake of my soul that somehow I can be a person that does.

~shadow

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I really hope next year finds you all in good health.

I've been putting off an update for awhile now. But I guess I should probably 
write something before the year ends.

I'm still working (full-time, sometimes over-time) at the pipe-threading place 
20 minutes away. It doesn't pay as well as it should BUT I'm learning a trade
(of sorts..). I suppose that even though I'm not earning what I should be, 
it's still worth it. But then there's the original problem: do I want to thread 
pieces of steal for the rest of my life? And the answer is simple: No. I don't.
I've been thinking about it all a lot. I'm in a bit of a rut. I hope to figure out 
how to chart some sort of course for my life soon. Being a machinist isn't 
a bad job. But it's not at all exciting. It's more or less monotonous. Of all 
the jobs I've had, it reminds me of flipping burgers. It's the most simple thing, 
really. Open machine, insert piece. Close door. Push button. Over and over.
Occasionally a piece gets messed up. Gotta fix that. Move on to the next.
There's little to no variation, other than the depth of the threads and the 
different stock that we use. It's still a corporate job. There are still people
(states away, faceless entities) signing my paychecks and calling the shots.
It's annoying. I've heard that they are too good to visit the shop, I suppose
little shards of metal and dirt aren't tolerable. I don't think that I want to meet 
them, anyway, because the entire family runs the business based on their own
financial situations...if they feel like they can get away with giving small raises, 
rather than the bigger, nicer ones...they'll do that. This year I got a small raise.
Presumably because a customer cancelled an order and the pipe went to waste.
It must be nice to run a business from hundreds of miles away and base everything
on how your bank account looks, or how you might be feeling that day as you walk
into the office and sit in your wealth. Very nice.

Aside from work, I've cut away from my "friends." While this might seem negative,
I think it was wise. All they wanted to do was smoke weed. While I don't judge people for 
being stoners per se, I didn't think their lack of motivation was helpful to me. I did 
have one friend that doesn't dabble in that shit. I've known him for a few years now.
I met him in my more...naive days. I used to have fun hanging with him...but now all I 
see is immaturity. I once asked him what his plans were in the years to come. 
He told me he didn't have any. He lives with his grandfather and (if he had his way) would
work at McDonalds his whole life if he could. 

Honestly, if you're still reading by this point, I try not to judge. I just got bored of being 
around these people. They weren't like me. No one is, not around here. So I spend my time, 
holed up in my place playing Xbox and ignoring the world as it spins around me. I work full-time, 
but I do little else. I don't attend church any more. All I saw there was a lot of drama and 
strife...two things I don't need. Perhaps I'm no better than them. I mean, I'm about as 
anti-social as one can get. And that scares me, guys. It scares me a lot. I have NO desire to do 
anything that involves people any more. I mean...I've still got my girlfriend and stuff. And I still 
hang with my family. But...that's it. It scares me so much that I have ZERO willpower to even go 
out any more. I guess some people are just loners. But...I'm not contributing anything or doing 
anything worthwhile. I mean, I LOVE playing games and stuff. But that doesn't make up a life. 
That doesn't really make me feel like I lived this year. And the whole year...I was holed up...playing
games and avoiding my "friends." They finally stopped calling. I didn't have the courage or the words
to describe my lack of social motivation. So while their "hobbies" weren't really anything I wanted
to get into, it was also more or less my mind just telling me to shove everyone away. It scares the 
hell out of me.

It's just been an odd year. But I've only just begun. Over the summer, soon after I took this job, 
my girlfriend got a blood clot in her leg. It was so bad that her leg swelled up to almost twice it's size. 
The doctors had no fucking idea why, but they suspect that it had something to do with the birth control
pills she was taking. It's extremely rare in young people, and it usually happens to people
that don't move around much. But she works, and she's rarely ever not moving. The night we found out 
what was wrong, I was so worried. I didn't know what to think. If it decides to move...it could go to her heart
and lungs and then it's basically game over. I tried to imagine what I would do if something would happen, 
but it was unfathomable. I left her with her mother in the hospital that night, after visiting hours ended... I did 
some stupid things that night. Things I regret. Lessons learned, I guess. I just wanted to feel alive again, that's 
literally the only way I can say it. And it sounds SO cheesy, I know. But really...what would I do? The question 
lingers. 

All this went down in May. 

Well...it's the end of the year. The clot was supposed to be gone by now. But it's not. I'm beginning to wonder if 
she'll have this thing for...well...a long time. I'm worried about it. But I can't bring it up to her. She can walk fine, 
and the swelling is gone, but if she bumps it or stumbles, she's in a lot of pain. And she's taking a lot of medication--
rat poison, basically, to make the clot stay still and (supposedly) go away. But I've heard some stories. And I'm scared.
If we get lucky and it DOESN'T move...then what if it never goes away? Why her? It's so crazy and surreal.

So all these random things (and things from the past) keep plaguing my mind. I get frustrated easily. I get infuriated 
easy. I hate that I'm so touchy now, all I can think is that my mind is getting worse. I'm finding it harder to see the 
positive side of things and the year went by in a blur...and I was numb the whole fucking time. I want to feel, but 
in my head it seems like I'm withering away and this is somehow the end. I feel like more and more of me fades every
day. Some things are harder to do..and memories seem to be fading as well. I'm afraid. I don't understand what's 
happening or why, or how to stop it. 

So I broke down. I went to see a doctor. I thought I understood what was happening, but I don't want to say it.
I explained it (as best I could). But I didn't like the guy. He was jumping all over the place, not really acting all 
professional like most doctors do. He ended up trying to send me for blood work and some other tests, and also 
wanted to put me on medication. When I asked about the side effects, he sorta mumbled a few different things 
and said "so, this is what I'm gonna do." But I kept asking questions. At one point he just put his hand in my face
(him standing and me sitting down) and told me to shake his hand, whilst I was still asking questions. Then, when
I had questions about the side-effects, rather than answer me about them, he just says "fine, I'll put you on 
such-and-such" and then lightly says he'll up the does some 50 milligrams. I told him I needed some time to think
(aka fuck you sir) and left. 

I hate that I was foolish enough to throw myself out there, hoping that there could be some sort of cure
for whatever it is that's causing this. I'm not going to try that again. I thought about switching doctors...but
to what end? They'll all want to label it and diagnose it and who the hell actually knows what's in those meds
anyway? If this is me...then it's me. If I'm meant to be like this, then whatever. I just wish I could know exactly
what THIS is.

What are you guys afraid of? Because this year I learned a great deal about what I'm afraid of.










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Featured

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