I must confess, I’m quite a bit proud of myself. After I had drunk too much yesterday without any reason and was again tempted today to prepare some delicious mixed drinks, I did not succumb to it and remained alcohol-free. That’s in consideration of the fact that I neither exercised nor was productive in any other way today and also suffer from a certain sleep deficit, which in turn leads to less self-control, not such a bad yield of the day. Furthermore, I saw Endgame in the cinema for the second time. Conclusion: Yup, still a damn good film. In addition, I took another step towards normalizing my social behavior by asking Natalia whether we finally wanted to meet in person. She seems to be a very reasonable, consistent person with clear ideas about life. Almost the exact opposite of my own broken personality. What could possibly go wrong? Probably everything. Which, considering my background of experience, wouldn’t be so far off, of course, but in the end there are hardly any other options left to me than to try again. Which, of course, immediately raises the question of how I should talk to her about my whole self-drama. In my recent messages I have tried to at least let a hint of it echo, but the actual dimensions of the rat’s tail of my psyche can only be guessed based on them. On the other hand, waiting too long would be counterproductive and unfair. From this point of view, this could even lead to somewhat absurd and amusing situations: And how did you get to know each other? Oh, as usual during online dating and on the first date, I explained that I’ve been fighting with borderline for years, regularly injuring myself, conducting a dysfunctional relationship life and in general I’m the most unsuitable person for something like a life together. So the usual stuff. But I could also show her these lines here. Then I could save myself the many words and would have settled the most difficult part. Natalia, if you ever read this and I was crazy enough to let you share these thoughts: If you still want to spend time with me somehow, I would feel incredibly honored. Not only because I’m incredibly picky and think one could have a pretty good time with you, but also because very few neurotypical people get along with people like me. Well, who can blame them? After all I’ve been through in the last few years, it’s hardly surprising. But it gets better. Let’s see what my condition looks like after my stay at the clinic. Maybe after that, completely new options will open up again. At least it’s a realistic start, I think. My thoughts are jumping again. Should she actually read this here or only this short section above? That could possibly lead to more questions and confusion. Oh, it’s a misery. Social interactions are often so terribly complicated. In addition there is this whole poly story. How do I explain this? Not only borderliner, but also poly? Oh, boy. Experience has shown that this is not a good combination. Whereby, the last time was the story between Annabelle and I. From the beginning it wasn’t headed in a good direction anyway. Combine two unstable borderliners and you have – bingo, a huge, emotional drama that will fuck up at least one side properly. Unfortunately it was, once again, not mine. I should never have gotten involved. She did what I’ve been trying in vain for years: building something like a normal life. When someone like me steps into her life, it naturally causes quite a bit of upheaval. All the signs from the beginning indicated that it’s not a damn good idea if we both get involved and yet we did. Does she still think about it? We haven’t exchanged a single word in months, but hardly a day goes by without me thinking about it. But why? I feel nothing for her. No matter how hard I try, there is nothing left. Then why can’t I stop thinking about it? Is it self-pity? Am I looking for justification? Salvation? Catharsis is nonsense, so certainly not after that. But then what is it? Do I want everything to be as it once was? I with a healthy, emotional distance and she also not too close to me? I don’t know. It’s all so complicated. I do not understand my thinking and feelings at all. Once again. I have no idea how to classify and evaluate everything. Sometimes I feel as if I possess the emotional processing capacities of a five-year-old who is simply overwhelmed with himself and the world. Great prospect. Yippieayeh.
Got my letter of referral to the hospital. Now all I have to do is send it off. The first, very important step seems to be done. But without an external incentive it would probably never have happened. One of the advantages of extreme dependency in terms of social relationships is that it is impossible to break promises. Of course, always provided that you don’t split. But after all the shit and time Maya and I have been through together, it’s pretty unlikely I’ll ever split on her. Somehow reassuring. To know that at least this one constant will always be in my life – come what may. When she showed me, once again, what she has done for me during this long period of time, what hardships she has gone through because of me, I think I will never be able to return the favor. This woman saved my life in the truest sense of the word. Probably not just once. Cynics might say that without her I might never have come to this point. But with her my life became so much better. Because of her I understood at that time HOW intensely I can feel when it comes to it. No wonder it took me years to recover from the fact that despite my original expectations nothing happened. But despite everything we experienced together; no matter how difficult it was sometimes, we were always there for each other. She certainly did more for me than the other way around. To promise such a person that you will take the necessary steps to finally get the help you obviously need is very binding. I drink too much. Once again. I could curse my mother’s genes, which are predisposed to increased alcohol consumption, but in the end I just lack self-control. After all, I am no longer at drinking levels like I was during my active bar career. You might think it’s progress. But it’s not so great after all. And I write that while my brain has been in a medium state of intoxication for several hours now. So at least I’m not completely mentally at night, so I still notice such things and I can reflect about them somewhat adequately. Now all I have to do is draw the necessary conclusions. Cut the consumption. Once again. It is always healthier. Heavens, why can’t there be all this stuff without alcohol? I’m a taste fetishist, but this extremely unhealthy alcohol component is really annoying. Theoretically I could go to a Pisco tasting in a few hours. Considering my current condition and the fact that I already regret having drunk again anyway (and above all alone, hello, what’s up?!!), that wouldn’t be a very clever idea. But hey, it wouldn’t be the first time that I don’t necessarily stand out with clever ideas. I just had to think several times about the internal logic of the last sentence to get the correct negation. I sincerely hope that I succeeded, otherwise my sober brain would be very embarrassed as soon as it reads this. That would be rather suboptimal. A ray of hope for tomorrow: I’ll have another look at Avengers: Endgame. Fantastic film. Yes, indeed, honestly. I liked it considerably more than Infinity War. An unimaginable amount of fan service and just a great movie experience. I think it’s the first film I’ve seen in a cinema for the second time since Inglorious Basterds. So that really stands for something. It will be good. I think. After all, I’m not alone, but have something like a social life along with me. Speaking of social life: Alicia has promised to stop by this weekend. I’m not so sure yet how I handle writing. Somehow it will be. In any case, it’s good to see each other. It’s been far too long since the last time and she belongs to those people who have always managed to steer a part of my extreme emotionality in meaningful directions. Sometimes thankfulness can no longer be translated into appropriate words. Obviously I have been incredibly lucky when it comes to the people in my life. That’s also kind of nice for a change.
The advantage of extreme mood swings is obvious: As fast as bad episodes occur, they can disappear. Today, especially in comparison to yesterday, was actually quite good. Although I didn’t get anything productive up and running, I wanted to take some rest after the stress of the previous day. This may sound a little like a vindication, but at least I keep the routine of daily writing, even if it’s just these thoughts here and I write them again at night and nothing in the morning. Nevertheless, the deed itself counts, the when is secondary. Because I have decided to write regularly in the evenings, I somehow feel forced to go to bed earlier, because the silence for writing with pleasant music takes place in the dark on my laptop. There are no streams or games to distract me, but I have complete focus on what I’m doing right now. If I can somehow manage to get my crazy sleep rhythm back on track, then that’s fine with me. It’s the small steps that establish our habits and ultimately shape what we perceive as life. Here they are again. The Instagram slogans. Very good. Another sign that things are looking better again. Fortunately, Word has a practical search function that allows me to find these placative statements later and perhaps at some point actually give them their rightful place. If I then become a mega hip influencer, because all sorts of people like my super profound thoughts, that wouldn’t be without a certain irony. Then, out of the suffering, which is often part of these words, came something good in the end. I don’t want to die. In spite of an experience like yesterday this decision is certain for me. I didn’t finish it then and I won’t do it now. I believe that my struggle, my experience is too significant to give up. Not only for myself, but also in its symbolic effect for others. If, at some point, I finally decide to publish these lines, other people may be able to draw new courage from them. You will see the unfiltered abysses through which I sometimes walk, but also the way out. Or at least some valleys and oases that promise improvement. Perhaps this linguistic picture actually frames life with mental illnesses very well. While some people walk the sunlit cliff street of life, some of their fellow human beings fight their way through the abyss right next to it. But while the sun is making its way, for a few moments it illuminates even the darkest abysses and sometimes this brief moment is enough to awaken new courage, new hope, another attempt to escape from this abyss. Perhaps someone throws them a rope which they can only see with the light of the sun and can now finally grasp, or a few protruding stones bring a strenuous but promising ascent into the realm of possibility. Whatever it may be, these short moments of light can mean the decisive difference between life and death. I know I am just writing these words because today I was lucky enough to wake up with this light, but even during my darkest hours in the past months, I never wanted to put an end to my life. I knew that my head was telling me lies, that I was not this completely incompetent loser as it would like to portray me. That there are many people who care about me and value my work. I know that it is possible for me to help many people with my words. To give up now would be to destroy the work of years and possibly cause a reaction in others like “Well, even this guy gave up at some point because he had no strength left”. I don’t believe that living with mental illness means eternal agony and damnation – or even a death sentence. I believe that it is possible to immerse the abyss in glowing light and see hope where before there was only darkness, pain and despair. A better life is possible.