Wednesday, September 9, 2009


My need, my hatred, my depression, my withdraw, my life.
Those are words I might use to describe being alone.

In a vast sense I've always looked at my life as alone and away from everyone else. No matter how close I've been I've always felt distant from the ones I associated and even loved.
I've always craved the company and companionship of others, I'm a bit of an extrovert in that I am energized by the company of those I love. No matter how depressed I get I can always laugh and laugh hard for those near me.
In the past few year I've found that because of my deepening depression since the events that created me that being alone I tend to think about things I shouldn't and things that make the first things worse like implausible possibilities that I sometimes find myself yearning for.
I hated that so I avoided being alone, I avoided thinking. But avoiding the issue isn't the answer. It just builds up until it hits a breaking point.
The avoidance and lack of outward emotion doesn't make for a good reaction. I reached a breaking point and tore apart everything in my life I could control and in the end I came out with a new set of emotions and feelings, almost. It seemed like everyone I cared for I didn't feel the same way for and I could 'see' things that I had missed so many times before.
This says a lot for a guy who wears glasses.
I've found I need that time alone to think, even if I spend a great deal thinking about things that are futile. I have to grieve things that meant something and let go, not just ignore it and carry it. I need to spend the time to think about the things that effect me now, because I live now, so I can move forward with my goals, no matter how abstract or unusual as they may be.
It may be a bit masochistic, but you could say I need the depression and pain as it is now or may be worse the next time.
Call me emotional if you want, I don't care.
I have feelings, and although that may make things harder, I'd rather be that guy who hurts himself rather than others.

When I'm alone, I get to write things like this.
I get to let go of what bothers me.

Brent Matthew Lillard

1 comment:

  1. Awwww...sweetheart you are making me depressed.