Rearview Review - the summer that wasn't

With the summer being in the rearview and everything that has happened over the course of it, there's a lot to take from this, a summer of disappointment.

One of those things was a desire to get going. Started with a phone conversation with my boss at BJs one morning. I told him I was done. That was it. No more carts, no more late nights pushing carts in cold, in rain, and watching the role change from "cashier" to "carts guy who also works as a cashier", feeling as if I made a mistake from the jump by going back. It wasn't dramatic either, it was a simple ending. From there the initiative was simple enough: get a better, career-centric job and finally start to make tracks out of where I was at this stage.

It looked good for a few weeks, then of course, trouble started. Couldn't find that job or something that was going to set my career forward. And then, the real trouble started....

This is what career rock bottom looks like.

Working around people ten years younger than you, doing shit outside the job description, for minimum wage. When you really should quit.

I hate my job now. But I'll play prostitute and take it because money, right? Because it's the right thing? Because dad's embarassed to see you at home and now he'll never see you.

Hazy Days: A description of burnout and how I'm dealing...

You can only take so much before you start cracking under the weight of it.

Precisely what happened over the past 2-3 weeks.

So let's start with the lightweight shit. Specifically some bitch I had the hots for and I was nothing but nice to her, and I didn't say much to her online, just a comment or a like, and that was it.

Well, apparently I may have set off a nerve. She blocked me out of the blue, and I was stunned. No warning. Just...boom.

And there I was thinking that "hey I met someone I like and she's cute and mature and likes the same stuff I do..." Welp I got fucked.

Next up: 3 days later I wind up going to a show and feeling lonely because I invited my friends and they didn't go. Eventually it was moot because my high school friends showed up instead, but I was vexxed and I almost lost it, texted my friend Mike and went off. I knew it was bad but I felt like I needed to take a bite and speak on it.

And then things get worse. My laptop decides to break on me, screwing up my music projects, and of course other things. So I can't make music until it's fixed but I don't have enough money to buy a new laptop or parts.

Long-term work stoppage.

And then it culminated. A friend from high school passed away, no warning, just gone.

I found out during Deafheaven, and I was out of it for the rest of the night. I should have cried, I should have been open but I didn't/ I just kept it closed and reacted in silence.

So now I can't make music, edit photos, or play video games, and I have a job that barely pays the bills. I'm considering fucking leaving the job because I can't do it anymore and it's not economically sensible to pay 10.20 in transporation fees for less than 8 hours of work and 3 hours of commuting.

I could just leave, continue to pull away from the world and head into December with a darkness not seen in 3 years or figure something out. I'd like answers. And now.

blowing up the last bridge into town

the past week may have convinced me that staying around northborough is not worth it.

work was a drag and a joke, working for 9 bucks pushing carts and dealing with dumb customers all day long. i have the feeling 3 months can become 3 years. and by then i'll be 30.

that's what scares me the most. the fact i could be 30 years old, secure, and living in the reality that my dream slipped away when i finally made strides to reach it.

and then, it only got worse. my dad and i got into an argument. about a show.

he wanted me to stay home and i told him i had already bought the ticket. i knew the risks involved and he was so trying to scare me out of going...into something i planned 21 days, a month even on going to, and this all came to a head.

he decided to mock me. saying i controlled all this stuff. i yelled at him to stop. he snapped.

i then told him quite frankly he was acting stupid. and then it got scary. he flew into a rage and kicked the doggy fence over. screamed at me to leave. in 0 degree weather. he was willing to have me die just to prove his point. at this point i sensed whatever bridge we had is dead. or dying.

my mom stayed out of it, but he had just fucking lost it.

i just sat there and calmly told him i wasn't leaving. he eventually backed down. and i for those 5 minutes, calmed down and used every inch of my retail-grade patience to de-nuke the situation.

it was just like a customer at BJs.

and now i'm sitting here, unable to sleep, holding back tears, mainly because i sense this was the end. or the fast-path to the end. i saw the devil in my dad's eyes.

the funny thing about this shit...there's a half-doggy fence up right now, the other half is on the ground. a metaphor. how about that.

Pattern Recognition

I caught on to something a few nights ago. I looked back at all my behaviors and actions over the past year, and then looked at my facebook posts from a year ago, and saw something really interesting but also horrifying as well.

It was the underlying thread for all my actions. The desire for companionship. For years I've desired to do it alone, to not depend on others to get things done, to control everything I could. 2014 was an eye-opener in how badly this attempt failed. And I didn't know it.

Seeing all that I tried to do/did in the past year was compelling because it showed a subconscious pattern in play, that being, my itch to do something with someone other than myself. In love, in work and in play, everything was building off a primal desire to not be alone anymore.  I didn't even understand all of this because I thought "there's no way" and "it's too coincidental" but it made sense...I think it was augmented by my brother moving out and leaving me a single resident for a long time.

And then I dug deeper, to further understand why I move like I do. It hit me, but a lot harder. I had been moving in circles for years now, going from optimism to attempt to re-try to failing to doing it all over again. And again, I was oblivious to all of this. It was an eyeopener. The realization I had gone in circles and essentially entered an infinite loop.

So this is where I break those patterns and re-write the ending. Or fail trying.

Desire to Leave

So i'm sitting here, getting ready to go to work again, with a lot on my mind. One of the things I'm thinking about is...relocating.

After doing searches in MA for jobs, I found that there's little to stay around for. A lot of stuff is retail. Something I'm trying to escape. The media jobs are locked with experience requirements that make getting a job harder than it should be. So by the time I get that experience, i'll be 30 something and still working in retail, with crazy hours, and dwindling ambitions off in the distance, lost after realizing I would never have the time to chase them and moving on in a silent form of defeat.

I also narrowed down the fact I've only regularly seen about 8-10 friends since leaving college. Meg, Jd, Mike, James, Lizi, and a few others...so moving wouldn't do much, I would lose those people but maybe it's negligible, I dunno. There's a lot of things to decide on but I know what I want.

I want to be able to have a set weekly schedule, so I can have a rhythm in 4/4, not a rhythm that changes like a bad mathcore band. I want to be able to build off that, so I know I have this amount of time for these tasks and I can act accordingly. I want to earn more than 10 bucks an hour, to have health care, to have benefits, all of that right off the bat. I'd love to not have to play translator for people who can't speak the language.

I want to be able to run with my dreams and not have to sideline them because of inconsistent hours or going sleepless to make them feasible.

I feel that moving out of the state into a better job market makes chances of that being a reality more likely. So figure it out.

The Familiarity of the Unfamiliar Ceiling

Approx. 3 months later, I got a job...but the fun ends there.

I landed in retail. For about 8.40 an hour, I now work a register at a store. On a seasonal basis.

It's a band-aid, a pacifier, a drug for a terminal illness...that is, it will come back, but you have to face it all over again in a short while.

To be honest, I didn't want to work at BJs, especially during the holidays, losing weekends and nights, forcing a lot of things into unsure ground in the process. And I really don't like how it was out of desperation, essentially returning to the same conditions in the first place, only for lower pay and shaky job security.

I'm working on an exit strategy so I am in total control of a situation that could slip out of control. Getting let go to start 2015 is not how i want to do things. I want to get things going in the way I want, not the way someone else wants.

So I wake up with a new ceiling that's the same one...only in a different room.

Fighting a Lonely War

To all those people who wish they "didn't care":

You have no idea what it is you're talking about. None. Imagine waking up one morning, and having no motivation to do anything. Stuck in bed and frustrated at yourself but with no initiative to do anything about it. Screwed up, huh? It gets worse. Instead of doing things, you just idle around all day, unable to muster up the guts, the will to change your situation. You become nothing and you feel that you were something but that's fading into the background like a one-hit wonder. And as the days go on and on, it gets worse and worse, to the point where you stop caring about the one thing you can't afford to not care about, yourself.

What I just described is what I'm enduring right now at this moment. Blame it on everything blowing up in my face one after the other, a dead-end career path, apathy towards my personal life, but this is what happens when you "don't care". You burn out. And it'll take a lot more than a day to fix what you've broken along the way. So do me a favor: CARE ABOUT THINGS.

Fixng The Fine Focus

What took me so long?

After 1 year out of college, there was no movement forward. No viable job opportunities. Comm arts was a dead end, barring a move that I can't afford at the moment. So what am I to do, wait for the day that never comes? Change to another job industry?

Or look deep inside and find what I wanted from what surrounded me?

After a lot of soul searching and long lonely nights at work, I made a choice. It was time to go and pursue my dreams as the priority. It was over, the days of waiting and waiting for things to fall into place. Instead it was the right time to finally chase what I wanted since high school.

I came to the conclusion that at the age of 26 years, with no relationship, no children, no job, and no obligations to any institution, I was best suited to make a career-defining run in music. Since high school I wanted to lead a music-centric life. I was finally gifted the chance to do so and now I am.

It was either working jobs that would end and start and doing it over and over...or working bum jobs...or moving out and trying my luck in a better market with all my contacts gone or just do something awesome and be able to tell my kids that when their daddy was younger, he had an adventurous post-college life.

I don't know how or where this ends but I know it starts. With one foot out the door.

3 Months An Employee

3 months a wage-slave.

That is the nice way of describing my time at my former job.

Let's start with some background shall we?

• With the Bruins potentially being eliminated in the future, I realized the sudden need for a second job/backup to keep myself financially afloat. So I began searching and threw my application at a gas station.
• Next few days: called by the manager to interview. Ace it.
• Get the job. Bruins eliminated within 1 week.
• Work is fine until the following happens
• People quit/fired/vanish - which turns this whole process into trial by fire.
• Began to see the ugly side of things
• Long hours become longer
• Call-ins.

And thus here we are, the slow but steady breaking points of working a gas station job.

1. Call-ins don't give no fucks.
2. Working til midnight again and again.
3. Weekends are vanishing
4. No rhythm to life.
5. Inconsiderate customers representing the bottom of the barrel.
6. Long nights = expensive eat-out dinners or wonky meal times.
7. Working nearly 15 days in a row. No breaks.

So after all of this and the constant overkill, plus the potential lack of a real situation in sight, I sense it's time to escape, before 3 months became 6, 6 became 12, 12 became 18 and so forth. It's a trap job.

In that period of time, those two weeks, my manager up and quit the job...out of nowhere. Huh. She tried to get me to stay...picture that.

Anyways, I gave my two weeks and quit and now live in the realm of unemployment, again. Just like last year.

But it's weird. I feel this crippling freedom to do anything but can't really do anything due to bills and whatnot. Kinda sucks.

But that does lead me to another point that I will save for a second post.

may-days

A conversation with a co-worker last week brought me back. But not in a good way.

We chatted about relationships. Primarily about hers and how she quickly rebounded from a 3 year one into a new one and dropped her ex like a sack. And she asked me "are you in a relationship?" ... I told her no.

I then said that I had never been in one. Laughter intensifies. And she remarked "seriously?!"

I told her I had my chances. And that started a downward spiral.

I remembered the last two times. And then I drew upon my attempt with Emma.

I felt some regrets over dropping the idea of a relationship, because of our age gap (20 vs 26) and our life experience gap (going to college vs being fresh out of college). I thought about how awkward it was for me to talk about it with friends and family, how the opposition to it would have been immense and drove us apart. I realized that in the end I became every guy I hated in college, the older off-campus BF who only rolls in on weekends dating a girl younger than his sister.

I felt bad but then again I felt I did the right thing, to remain friends.

I came home that night and reflected on the bridges I've burned. I thought about Ari again and it only confirmed the obvious: she's gone forever.

So I thought about it, do I need to fall in love to feel complete? Do I need someone else?

I realized I'm better off single for now, because I have no need to worry about someone else that way. And I'm not there yet. I'm 26 and going nowhere right now professionally so why bog people down with that? Are we that so insecure about being alone that it's a point of humilation for not being in a relationship well into your adult years?

While I'm on that note, I'm also finding it really really hard to start a band now. Just had to respectfully dissolve a partnership because we both had different styles of working and we just weren't clicking. It was either make it work and just remain that way or change it, take it to someone else with your knowledge of music and what works and what doesn't work live and do it better.

I'm getting worried. I have no time for music, video games, photography and working 30 hours and save for sacrificing sleep, I don't know what else to do.

Debating making a change and doing open mics by myself and building a network on my own to get this band started. Going against my words.

paranoia

I've been burned by the fear and the reality that somehow, something is going to go wrong. To the point where it can't be fixed.

It's the reason why I'm unsettled as of late. Worried that a close friend is coming upon the realization I am too toxic to be around and they are just giving me the vibe that I don't want you around me anymore. Worried about a possible relationship putting my job into jeporady, if not to say that I am so unsure of myself with her, and all the inherited issues that could arise.

Specifically, age. She's 20 and I'm 25 (virtually 26) and I'm concerned that she's too young, enough to cause a stink.

Also, I'm worried that attempts to engage will only end in humiliation and being black-balled from being around her and her friends/co-workers. So it's a tough place to be in.

Doesn't help to be dealing with a creative burnout, that's only becoming a full on disillusionment/depression/panic induced shutdown as of late and a sense of jealousy, regret, shame, and loneliness. I'm OK...in a masochistic kind of way.

Something has to change. Either I give up my dreams, get real, or I risk everything and chase it and stop being paranoid about things. I'm sure this is just my frayed mind jumping to conclusions again and I'm allowing myself to run with it, taking little things and drawing illogical conclusions. Thinking that she hates me when I don't even know anything and I've only tried to talk to her 2 times since.

I lost the woman I loved and trusted 4 years ago. I'll be damned if it's going to happen again on two fronts.

But for now I just don't know.

The Events of 11-1 and 11-2

They say to start the healing process, you have to be open about what happened. So I'm taking that first step. I will apologize in advance for any inappropriate language if it pops up but I'm rolling with a "type-and-forget-it" mentality.

Friday started off with not much, just gaming, and getting ready for work. Still waiting the second paycheck that was supposed to be delivered on Halloween, but didn't.

So that meant I had to cancel out of a party I wanted to go to after work. Bummer. I was upset that I cancelled on my friends for the second time in a month due to paycheck issues, and mostly because it was going to put a strain on negotiations for a possible winter tour with them in 2014.

Regardless, I went to work, dressed up, late to start, and driving as fast and legally as I could. Took shortcuts, had little to worry about with traffic that afternoon, made good time, and then it happened.

At the exit off the Mass Pike, I rear-ended someone, by not looking in front, when I was trying to find a clear lane. Bad timing. Very bad timing. I made sure to meet them at the next stop to talk it over, and that's when shit started to go south.

She walked out, and she had one leg. That just made the events harder to deal with. Hitting a disabled person (not sure how you define it) is a lot worse than just hitting someone.

Information exchange and negotiating to pay out of pocket for what was a small dent in a plastic bumper was the gist of it. Nothing more, nothing less. I got back in my car, and exploded. I was mad, going to be late for work again, got into an accident, and I couldn't do much about it. I called home to let my mom know what happened, and debated if I should have come back home, called out of work and explained the scenario.

I didn't. I went to work. When I shouldn't have. While I was angry and not in the right mindstate. I couldn't vent. I just had to do the worst possible thing: ignore how I felt and bury it.

Somehow it worked. I don't know how but it did. Of course I was concerned about the car in the back of my mind. And I was relieved when I got back that nothing else had happened to it.

And then the second impact happened.

Driving home, the car is acting funny, the temperature light is at it's peak. I was worried but I realized I had to get home.

I stopped at a Burger King and I looked it up. Turns out I had flirted with death again, only this time I could've died in a flaming car. Or killed someone else via the smoke from the exhaust pipe. I was shaken up. Again.

I got home, and then I learned the car was in serious trouble. Seriously in danger. And while my dad had come to help me, the first thing he said about how he was thinking about my sister, instead of how I had all that bullshit happen to me and no time to comprehend all of it, irked me.

I went into isolation for the next day. Didn't try to talk to my parents about anything, and if I did, I was only met with replies of get over it or it's not just about you.

So...I'm supposed to deal with the fact I nearly died. I could've killed someone on multiple occasions. I have no way to get to work. I got into a car accident. And just put all of that beside me.

OK, fair enough.

I hate it, I really do. I'm more alone than ever right now, my whole life is uncertain, and I can't ask my parents for a damn thing because I'll just get looks of apathy and of disgust.

So unless there's some sort of deal struck this week where I can borrow money for the commuter rail and go to work, or the car gets fixed in time for Tuesday and I'm allowed to drive it, I'm stuck at home, unable to go to work, losing out on a big amount of hours that would help my holiday paycheck, and instead of being out and about, I'm trapped at home, having to deal with how badly I'm messed up.

I wish I could talk to my parents but their apathy reassures something: if I had died, I'd probably be seen as a blessing in disguise to them, their big financial burden gone in a flash.

Messed up? Yeah. But this whole situation is messed up. And I wish it wasn't this way. And yet it is.

Another Change

So after a few months of searching for jobs in MA, relating to my degree, I came to a conclusion, albeit a multi-layer one.

1. Comm Arts jobs in MA - non-existent: Sorry to all the comm majors out there, but better pack your bags and make tracks to NY or LA. If you're looking for jobs that involve video and stuff like that, then your odds of finding temp work even in those areas fresh out of college, is slim. Listings are few and far between (go to productionhub.com and look up jobs in MA and NY).
2. Living in Northborough (far away from Boston) limits my job options: Employers don't like late workers. So either it's drive there, pay through the nose for parking and gas, and deal with traffic or drive to a train station, pray to God the train doesn't stop or gets delayed, and try to get there on time on foot as well.
3. The entire "get a job with your major" is a myth.

I did weigh the option of moving to NYC for work in 2 years, but after a walk with my dog this week, I came to this conclusion about it.

Why would I move to a state where I have little knowledge or friends there? And then it went deeper, why would I move to a state and virtually restart my music career and collab base when I'm making in-roads here?

It became clear to me after all of this that I spoke too soon about moving, I spoke out of frustration. I said I wanted to move because I believed "gotta get to where the action is" and MA wasn't cutting it.

You can understand some of my frustration. I spent 6 years trying to get a degree, with 2 withdrawls in the mix, a beavy of  personal problems, that to this day still play a part in how I handle myself, and to be unable to find work with my degree just drives me up the wall. I don't want to work call center jobs, marketing jobs, warehouse jobs, when I can do something better, that pays more. And add in some other reasons too...

I came back home and then I remembered, the only reason why I went back to college was to get the security net my parents had so badgered me about, and now that I have it, I can actually get to what I want to.

Making music. Full time. So with that said, it's all a matter of thinking ahead, but not too far ahead.

Sure, this will probably seal my fate, and mean I'm going to live at home for the rest of my foreseeable future, but I would be crazy to move now, when I've met so many people and finally started to make moves here.

I haven't quit my day job, just went back to my original gameplan I should have never abandoned.

The End Of This Story...and The Start of Another

So, it's been 3 months. Might as well update.

First off, I graduated! I finished bio and now it's all over and done with, so the diploma will be on the way in the mail, therefore totally ending the hell and pain of the last few years.

I've already written pieces about reminiscing. So no need to retread that road.

Now with that came the downside, it was time to get a job. And of course, do something with my degree. For some reason I'm driven to get a job, that's in comm arts because of a few things.

• 6 years in school when it really should have been 5.
• I can't do the office corporate lifestyle.
• Seriously. I've been in a suit 2 times in 4 days and today I really really hated it.

And of course, I need a job because I need to raise funds so I can do the following:

• Support my videogame habit
• Support driving around the place
• Support my popcorn addiction
• Finish the mixtape

The mixtape is a major priority. That's obvious. And on that note...

So, with no car, no money, and no leads or ways to get job interviews without a car, I was stuck at home for the rest of the summer. Yup, how fitting. End of college, free at last, free at last...only to find a tighter set of chains.

Puke.

I can tell you that I did have at least these encounters outside of my house:

• Ryan's BBQ
• Movie time with Greg
• NH adventure

That was it. No shows, no jams, just music work for 2.5 months.

It was insanity, it was chaos, it was something that was 6 years in the making.

Whoops, diverging.

Anyways, now that college is over, I guess this blog is over too. For now.

What a journey it was. And now it's over.

Song of the moment: Faith No More - King for a Day

Damage Inventory

• Broken heart
• Fading ambition
• Fruitless search for musical expansion
• Inability to focus
• Regression from being ambitious to becoming unwilling to do much
• Transition into social reclusiveness
• Strained family relations
• Loss of confidence and pride
• Loss of drive
• Defeatist mentality
  
  I know there's more, but that's the gist of it. It sucks. Going back to a place I hate. Here goes the first step.

Helpless Viewer Of Something Beautiful

There I was, in my car. Sipping a 2.69 shake, in the park, near 80 degrees, and there was a sight that just broke me down to tears.

A kid playing ball with his dad. Watching the spectacle after all that has faded out of my life and will over the next weekend,  just brought me to the zenith of emotions. For a minute, I lost myself and had a Holden Caulfield moment. Where despite the control of one's life is gone or is on the way out, there was something joyous that resonates on the surface.

Does it go any deeper? I don't know. It may or may not.

All I know is this: I'm going downward. This band is not working. I'm hoping for a job. Holding out to finally get out there musically but in a town that has a lack of artists and people that would be ideal for something, it seems to fade out. Maybe this will all culminate with retirement.

Did I really say that? I hope it's not true. Because I can't deal with that.

Exit Music (For A Life)

Listening to Radiohead's Exit Music, and for some reason, I keep on visioning this closing montage of moments and people set to this song.

It would start with a voice over, me talking about how "things happen, you never expect them to, but they do. the real issue is how do you handle it? do you take it on head first, or break down and call for help? bottle it and drink until it makes you sick, or spill it over constantly.

As this is going on, the character's main friends all are seen doing something monumental. One is graduating, the other is boarding a plane, the other is driving to a show, and the main character is typing it out. As the first half of the song continues, everyone has their preparation, and the main character starts to break down, quietly.

As the song ends, the final shot of the character is sitting despondent. Not ready to give up, but ready to walk away from the life he once knew. And that's how I feel right now. Ready to walk from every single thing I knew, just to become a shell of my once proud self, comfortable in the numbness.

Eventually I'll crack, but I don't want to. I'd rather live like a zombie, disconnected from most, not feeling anything for anyone unless it overwhelms me. Too many years of caring without return, lending from the moral bank and not receiving a return on my investment.

We all go bankrupt. I've just been lucky enough to emerge from Chapter 11 restructured.

5 months in my kicks

December 2012: Introduction

So here I was, the last 20 or so days of my college career. Capping off what was the end with a whirlwind of activity, filming and editing video of a concert, shooting pictures, and just putting work in for the last few days of college.

It was going fine for the most part. The 19th, the last night was a night where it all started making sense. The dream comeback was coming to an end. I was finally going to get out of there and finally start my life for once.

The 20th was a calm and relaxing intro at first. Drive to school, walk up the hill, get into the cafeteria, breathe for a few, and calm myself into prep. It was easy. 25 questions. One chapter, all multiple choice. The difference between it all was that. Nothing more, nothing less.

I see it all and think, I got this. I finish, double check, triple check, hand it in, and thank my professor, as if it's over, for real this time.

Walking by the campus for a few minutes and paying one last visit to the radio station I made my home at for  the bulk of my college time to pick up some things, to realize it was all over. I was done. It was time to enjoy Christmas and believe that better days were starting. And for a glorious few hours, it felt like that. Being in the mall, blissfully in the moment of being done, and enjoying all the holiday commercialism, it felt like magic, it really did.

I pull into the parking lot, gifts in tow, and walk into my house, saying how happy I was to be done. And then I thought, let's check to make sure I passed my other class, just to make sure.

And I did. But then, it went wrong, terribly wrong.

I got an F. Meaning there would be no graduations, no parties, nothing. I thought this must be a mistake. It wasn't. I was 1 point away from being there, from passing the final and passing the class. I didn't get it...

What happened was immediate. I fell into a state of shock, where I blew it off like, huh, it's like that. I told my mom first, and then I gradually came to grasp it all...painfully and in tears. Waking up the next morning, I was shell-shocked. Like all the support of friends and family, and I let them down...I was beyond upset.

We tried everything. Nothing except do it over again. Wait till next year, 2014 to walk.

I fell into a depression. Almost without warning, it just happened. All the desire to live vanished and I became what I am today. But there's a path to this all...and I need to guide you through it.

January 2013: First Month

A new year, a bit of a recovery but on the shaky ground of unusual territory. Planning a few performances as if nothing had happened at all. Thus begun the balancing act, the deception and the reality. One everyone knows, one no one knows.

Those two shows were fun, but I think the second show was the moment where my illusion started to flicker.

It was just me, no one else to back me up. Only a few familiar faces on a show bill that didn't fit who I was. I'm only there because my friends offered me the show, perhaps as a sign of friendship. The crowd was dead, no reaction, like just a horrible feeling started to drown me, as I went deeper and deeper. I stuck to my guns, my setlist, didn't change a thing, but I was staring into a sea of strangers who came for acoustic acts and my friends, not for me. My friends arrived afterwards, but that's not the meat of it.

It was crippling to come off the stage and NOT feel good about it. That ate at me weeks later when I thought deep about that night, the lonely feelings and all that. But there was more to it.

I hadn't seen her since December. Her being my good friend, Meghan. It was the first time I saw her since my downfall...and I was nervous, she was the first person I told openly about my problems in college. The first I told about how I was going to drop out again. She understood, and I knew she would.

So with that noted, there was a moment when I was walking back to the T station on my way home, and the last goodbyes at the time, just left me cold. It was haunting, and it ate me up inside.

I knew all too well that I broke all my rules without trying.  But it just happened.

In the meanwhile, I rebuffed all of the requests to go back this semester, because unbeknownst to my parents, my demons returned. I was already set on my path and on my way to living the life of someone who never got to where he hoped he'd be. They wanted me to go back now, do it all over again.

And then the low attempts started. All the doom setting, all the guilt trips, everything they threw at me that month to go back, just made me hate myself even more, and made it so hard to get back up again.

I was so close, so close to finally letting loose, telling my parents exactly how I thought. Not biting my tongue and just being, real with them. It was too close, to where I nearly lost control.

I was lonely, away from friends, broke, by myself all the time, and watching my life pass by. It was pain. And it was only going to get worse, it looked like.

Februrary: Under The Spell and Screaming

Month 2 started with me at a low point, fading out of society and family more and more. No church, going out reduced to almost once a month, no money coming in, just sitting at home, doing the same old stuff. Pretty much it was the deepening of the hole. Once I started to get out of the hole, I fell back in with ease, and with disturbing casualness like it was normal.

But one night I got out and did something. I went to a show, met some people, and started an idea. That I will explain later.

Turning 25 without my friends around sucked. Everyone I cared about moved out. My collaborators are scattered and tied up with other projects, I had no one else to work with. So I started trying to articulate my feelings with lyrics and ideas that were probably going to fall face flat. I didn't care. I needed a reason, to keep me away from making the choice to end it all.

I admit, I had thoughts, in passing to end it all. After being told I couldn't get back to school and also I was dropped out via paperwork technicalities, I stopped caring. Just another lie to tell I thought. But there were moments where I asked myself what would happen if I didn't exist.

It wasn't fair. Seeing friends succeed like crazy. And I, the one who was there for everyone, instead...was out in the cold. Watching on the outside.

The birthday, the cake, all came and went. Feeling a little better, but still with demons that were long reigning inside of me.

March 2013: Movement

March wasn't a bad month. March was good for the most part. The end of the downward spiral seemingly arrived and I was finally getting somewhere with all of this. Music gradually opened doors again. I hung out with friends more, and finally felt better about myself.

Jobs were tough to find. Really tough. But I was getting some moments here and there. My perception of myself began to shape up a lot more, and I was feeling a bit more OK with all that happened.

It felt like I was going to be normal again, it really did.

April 2013: The End of Illusions

It was at this point where I finally surveyed the damage committed to my soul and psyche during these few months and I saw something terrible. I realized that I had derailed a ton of things on account of my depression, and in a way, reset my life to zero.

I had dreams of doing shows, open mics, getting an interview show on YouTube going, and just keeping it moving...but it all stopped. Dead in it's tracks.

Having to hit the reset switch twice in 2 years really got to me. And at 25, doing that, it makes it worse.

I was back to that place, albeit in a shallow area and trying not to tear my hair out from anger.

I kept on looking at where I was a year ago and where I was at the moment. It drove me nuts. Incredible...how does one lose it all in the space of one year.

Things start to stall with this project I try to get going. No communication for weeks at a time...it's like a joke, which I hope is my assumption.

It was then, that I broke down, I realized how unsustainable my lifestyle was. How I became the damn thing I hated: the hometown bum who can't leave, and can't be who he wants.

The illusion faded. No more tight-rope act.

May 2013: Kick To The Nuts

So here I am, writing this, falling into the abyss. Friends are leaving, projects are dying or on the verge, I'm probably not going to live my dreams as a music person, and I'm going to lose. It hurts... I wish it would stop.

Gave up on God, and quit lying to people. They want me to come back but I'm done. So many times I can call holy 911 and hear silence and fake reassurance before I stop caring.

May 18th, 19th and 20th is the reset. Start over, and have to endure the pain of not graduating till 2014...all because of one point. ONE POINT. Without the friends, without the motivation, just the hate and despair to make me believe.

I hate this. I really do.

There's a reason for all of this. I wrote to explain what has happened to me, how I became a recluse. And how it's no longer easy for me to be who I was, how at 25, with nothing, I have to deal with it, no more illusions, just a reality.

nerdy

I need to express some hidden stuff right now.

For the past month or so, I've been consumed in a double life. One life paints me as a guy with no problems, a good head on my shoulders, and a grip on what really matters.

The other life shows a fear of falling from the tight rope and landing head first. The life of being worried with/without reason for your own life and how it could all collapse in the blink of an eye.

It's a tough thng to do, hide behind one lie, then live in the other one and switch between them at a moment's notice. Refusing to be an open book for anyone because I've seen what people can do with moments of weakness.

This week, after being driven to the breaking point, the real me is starting to break through the illusion of the "real me" I have going on. I don't know if I need to do this, or if it's the right thing but I have a sense I'll wind up losing the battle to keep it together...and just break in two again.

Fuck.