WARNING: Be prepared…going to be all over the place with this one; it tends to be my usual "writing style" quite often as it is, but….feeling somewhat slaphappy at the moment(not enough sleep? too much sleep?), so it could be ever worse this time around….

Bad day…bad memories…day might be bad due to apparent loss of wallet, which would mean I now lost TWO wallets in a span of 10 days, and irritation at an attempted lecture from sister, etc…..Bad memories, bad memories, why do so many things I see and do stir up bad memories?….This is why they need to develop Amnesia pills….Memories of heartache, and heartbreak…of disappointment and pain….memories of being enshroused in the Darkness at it's worst, of unexpected things that went wrong, of embarrassment and shame, of friends that once were but no longer are, of being "on top" relatively speaking in life and being oblivious of the humbling and in some cases hellish downfall to come…no, these are not just memories that are present in the brain even though they might pop up from time-to-time that way; these are memories that come to the fore based on just LOOKING at something that brings back painful reminders…just DOING something–even doing what would be considered a GOOD thing…

Driving past the hospital for instance brings back bad memories of the four times I had to be checked in there for severe depression….driving past the street where Alison used to live…Alison, the girl I fell in love with more than any other throughout my life…Alison, the girl who i experienced the most exruciating heartbreak over time and time again when I had to realize–more than once, ridiculously enough(yeah, just TRY driving that hopeless romantic out of me or "dreamer" or whatever you would call it; good luck with that)–that her feelings for me were not mutual…all the times I recall driving down that street to pick her up because her buddy Todd gave her something to do while she was in town visiting from college, all the times I would drive that down that street with that perpetual teasing hope that maybe THIS would be the night that she somehow would finally start to feel the same way, that what-I-hoped-for-were hints at times even that she might finally be getting there…all those times that The Street of Dreams leading to her house as I drove down to get her would turn into the Street of Shattered Dreams every time I left it after dropping her off…..Facebook…why, oh WHY do I ever go on that damn site what with all the bad memories it often stirrs up?, not to mention the feelings of shame and inferiority… probably not a good site to be on for someone who is trying to leave a horrific bout of severe depression/anxiety attacks in it's wake…a site that I might be a glutton for punishment every time I step my proverbial foot in there,, that could be a precarious step into slipping into a relapse…a site where the people are on there who ARE wonderful and are willing to acknowledge my existence are reasons that I use to justify still being a member on there in spite of the aforementioned minuses about it….example of seeing something on THERE that evokes bad memories: there is a group of about 5 or 6 people who I performed in a play with in '08….we were all new to each other…we all bonded during reharsals and became a tight-knit group of friends…I thought perhaps they were new-found friends for life….but even THEY managed in time to form an apparent clique that I eventually became ommited from–bringing back painful memories of high school when I would deal with that kind of thing constantly….even though they may not be friends anymore in the true sense, they are still Facebook "friends"….as I observe through their countless postings they are always getting togehter for events, going out on the town and having fun..constantly advertising this through words and pictures…not ever "liking" me on any posts that I might say–as if refusing to acknowledge my existence anymore, even though I am always willing to "like" what they say(for people who actually read this blog and who know how Facebook works, you know what I am talking about)..I try to remind myself that there could be good and legit reasons on their part for this…maybe because it's I stopped performing in endless numbers of shows unlike they did after we were all together fir "Red Herring"…maybe it's because I was unable to attend some of the social functions that I was actually initially invited to by them in the months after the show but had to miss due to work conflicts each and every time back when I was working(who knows? Now that I think about it, maybe the frustration and sadness of having to miss out on these functions was a subconcious factor in leading to my depression, as it would cause me to curse myself for not having a "real, normal"job like they all did–one where they would put in their 40 hours a week on weekdays and have their evenings and weekends free while I worked all kinds of different shifts covering numerous evenings and weekends), so in that regard, maybe they kind of "forgot" about me, even thought I was of the thought that I was "reminding" them that I still existed via attending whatever new plays they were in when I could, and/or sending them posts on FB….and maybe it's because… during the Darkest of Days throughout the Dark Days covering May'09-Dec.'11…when I would constantly and inappropriately post things on FB about how miserable my life was and how I thought I was going to die and leaving them links to blogs(not ones I wrote on here; I didn't even know about this site until a couple of months ago)about how worthless and hopeless I was, etc….maybe doing all that "scared them away", as I know that it did to others who used to be friends and whom I lost during that period because they could no longer deal with seeing me that way….or maybe it's all of the above….Yeah, I know to some who are reading this–if anyone is at all–you have to be thinking, wow, Facebook truly is so silly and stupid in so many ways, because I know that I sure think that about it; it truly is a shame that I have allowed myself to get brainwashed into the cult of it and can't seem to get myself to leave it in spite of it possibly being the best thing for my mental health should I do so….I don't know, maybe a recent one-week "sabbatical" that I forced myself to take from it recently is a sign of encouragement….(to be continued)


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