Thoughtnami

I don’t like talking about myself.

I really don’t. And I don’t really like talking about my personal life. At least not anything too personal. But I’m going to be real for a minute, so bear with me.

I’m scared of being alone in life. 

I have depression. Not “had,” I still have it. And every now and then, it gets the better of me. I absolutely hate that feeling. The thing is everybody says it’s only in my head and that I need to “shake it off” or just “snap out of it.” I have good days, but lately, I’m having a few more bad days. 

Did I mention that I hate it?

It’s like nobody cares, and I try not to burden my troubles and personal feelings on anybody else. People have their own problems they deal with, and my problems aren’t their problems, so I keep them bottled up. More often than not, I’d just sit in my room, look at either the TV screen or the computer monitor and just bury myself in work and all. 

I think the reason I needed to stay offline for a while is because I think the computer does more harm than good, and while I do talk to a few folks out there, it still cements the fact that I don’t have any friends on the other side of the screen. I convinced myself that The X Bridge is a relic from an internet that doesn’t really exist any more. There’s still a lot to say, but I’m not as angry as I used to be, and I don’t want to be that angry cartoon nerd boy that people could just laugh at any more. I’m more sad than angry these days. 

Not just because these idiotic companies and networks refuse to change, but I’ve outgrown them and they don’t give a damn. 

I’ve always felt like an outcast in my own part of the world.  Hell, I felt like an outcast in my own family sometimes. I live right. I’m getting healthier, losing weight and all, but this life just seems so tedious. I can’t get a decent job around here (the phrase “overqualified” comes up way too much in my job interviews), and aside from taking care of my mother, I don’t feel I’m living up to my potential. 

I feel trapped, and I can’t get out. And I’m fricking sick of it.

I need to see the world, but without funds, I’m very limited and stuck in the same place.

I do have a girlfriend, and I love her so much. She loves me too. At least she tells me that, and I believe her when she does. But I’m always scared that I might lose her. I get afraid of saying the wrong thing, doing the wrong thing, making her intimidated by me. Why? Maybe because there’s a stubborn belief that I don’t deserve her, and I don’t want that to be true. I’m more comfortable telling her my feelings than she is. Maybe I’m too open about how I feel about her than I should be, and I’m absolutely petrified of disappointing her.  And those days I can’t really connect with her, I feel lonely. 

And alone.

I need more time to myself to work things out personally, but I don’t know what’s next. I’m not even sure I want to get back online or do much of anything these days. 

I know I’m not really alone in this world, but some days, it feels like I am. This was one of those days.

I smiled by the end of the night.

Mind is clearer.

For the moment, stress is erased. There’s a lot going on on the other side of the screen. A lot of it is completely out of my hands. Some of it is just me feeling powerless about what’s really going on in my life and this stupid world I’m in. It’s frustrating, but I was either going to let this feeling completely consume me or try to get out of this stranglehold.  

I had to think of something nice, something real in this world.

I thought of her. 

And I know she would kick my butt for me feeling bad about myself, and the last thing I’d ever want to do is disappoint her. She’s the love of my life, and the thought of making her sad was the biggest step in getting out of this self-imposed pity party I’ve been on for a couple of days (weeks?). 

I thought of her. Her smile. Her eyes. Her touch. Though we’ve only been in the same state one really great weekend, I remember it all, and it makes me smile. 

Okay, that may be a little sappy to some, but these are things that make me happy. 

And I can sleep better tonight, wrapped in my comforter, and relax. 

It’s a new day, and I’m feeling a lot better now.

So much hatred. 

So much anger.

So much bigotry.

It’s not getting any better, and I fear what’s ahead. 

You have to have faith and hope that everything will be better, but the more I see, the more I believe it’s not, and that’s depressing as hell. The thing is to not to let it get to you, but it’s getting harder to do that.

“Like my opinions are invalid because they’re not yours.”

“Like what I have to say doesn’t matter because I come from a totally different experience than you.”

“Like we all have to think the same as each other.”

I really hate people telling to shut up because I have an opinion. I laugh because people actually think telling me to shut up will keep me quiet.

Venting some things out here. Forgive me if it drags on.

I try not to get angry.

In this day and age when you see so much in the world around you falling apart, so many people getting away with saying vile, repugnant, bigoted crap in public and behind anonymous user names online, vigilantes with a poisoned mind as well as individuals full of hate and supposed to protect the innocent kill unarmed teenagers and kids because they look suspicious and media folks actually trying to vilify the victims, and people disrespecting the man currently holding the highest office in the land by shouting at him during speeches, calling him coded racial epithets on the campaign trail and in media outlets, and even questioning every single thing he has ever done in his life, including where he was even born, it’s kind of hard to remain not angry, especially if you’re a Black man in America.

I mean, heaven forbid a Black man gets angry.

As a Black man in America, you’re told that you can’t show anger publicly. You have to remain calm otherwise people get scared of you. People will be scared, and they will demonize you for showing anger, and they’ll feel you’ll become a violent beast that belongs in a cage. Even if we look angry just a little bit, we get demonized by folks.

That’s probably why you rarely see the President of the United States get angry in public. So many in this country who are already hateful of the President are ready to pounce on some people’s fear of the “angry Black man” the moment he reacts to anything. As if the President shouldn’t be angry at all.

I mean, when you’re being criticized for things out of control, accused of being things you aren’t, and seeing and hearing lies told about all over the place, I’d be a little mad too. But the President shows a lot of restraint, as most Black guys do.

I try not to get angry. I’m probably the calmest guy people know, both online and on the other side of the screen. I probably need to express the angry I do feel more than I currently do. It’s probably one of the causes of my depression and stress.

I only have so many cheeks to turn.

I’ve been spat at. I’ve been called a “lying asshole” and a “nigger.” People told me I’m a joke, and some even call what I do when I get too passionate about something “moments.” People told me I should just kill myself. It frustrates me. It saddens me. But I try not to get angry about these and so many other things.

There is a time to be angry. This is one of those times.