A reoccurring theme in my life is the inability to feel. Though at this moment, I’m thinking that my apathy might not be apathy, but just helplessness.
I can’t remember much of my past, I feel like I’ve misplaced those memories, from 2015 onwards it all seems like one massive haze, a haze better not to remember. The fact that it hurts to remember means there is some emotion in me, therefore I am not apathetic.
Maybe just pathetic.
Sometimes I read my old posts, they are usually all about how I couldn’t feel anything, how even when I felt euphoria, comfort, love, sadness, anything. It turned off almost automatically, almost immediately.
I realise that there are emotions I feel, ranging from happiness (sometimes) to jealousy, from sadness to anger. I do feel things, so I can’t be apathetic, I don’t logically follow the definition. I have this one memory, of absolute anger. I was talking to an ex of mine on Facetime and I’m not sure what she said, or what was happening, I can’t remember the conversation, I can’t remember most. I flew into this bling rage and punched a hole into the iPad I currently use to write this. I’m glad I was able to get it fixed, to be honest, I’m glad I was able to fix my anger.
I don’t know whether I fixed it or whether I haven’t had anything to care about so much that I get angry. I’m not one to get angry at life’s assholiness, but rather just sad and demotivated. I suppose that might be worse.
It takes time and it takes patience, it takes giving in, it takes stopping yourself, it takes more than it should take to stop yourself from hurting another; due to anger. To be honest, anger subsides, sadness passes, happiness elates, but it’s apathy that scares me. There are times where I stop feeling anything, and I don’t think I’ve always had that sensation, but it’s there these days. I could be doing something as mundane as chilling with my friends, I could be collapsing on the floor in the shower, I could be talking to someone I genuinely care about, and just like that, as fast as it takes to blink, its all gone. I immediately wonder why I can’t just break, why I can’t just cry, why I can’t just feel. Then proceed to feel shittier about not feeling, than what I escaped feeling.
It’s dumb to be honest, that a species so profound, so prolific, so capable is entirely incapable of controlling their emotions.
THERE IS A LOT TO GAIN FROM DISCIPLINE
I might not be the best example for discipline but I strongly believe there is something to gain, whether from stopping yourself from bashing someones face in, or whether its stopping yourself from hitting up someone who’s just so insanely toxic for you that its better to rekindle with everyone you’ve ever known, loved, been friends with. Cause this one person is capable of ruining not just progress, not just past memories, but the future completely. He is just someone I should never ever in my life think about talking to. It takes effort in not finding him and breaking each bone in his body for what he did to someone I cared so deeply about.
I’m glad, I genuinely am, that I’m able to feel something, even if it’s rage towards someone, at least it’s better than those moments of apathy I feel at times.
Part of me just thinks I need a hug, the last time I had one that brought genuine comfort was around the beginning of 2018. It’s been a bit, but I suppose maybe I’m thinking a hug might fix more than it actually will. I don’t know man, there’s a lot to gain from holding someone who genuinely wants you to be okay. So try it, next time you feel a lack of discipline, you feel too sad, too angry, you feel like you can’t control what’s about to happen. Just have a hug, it’ll help more than it won’t.
You know, usually when I write I play music to set me in the mood, these days it’s mainly Micky Ekko, it used to be everything from Kodaline to the 1975. I can’t listen to the latter, it’s still too much. But what I can do is leave you with a great suggestion and a fond memory. There’s this song called “the wisp sings” by winter aid, check it out. As for the memory, I used to never wear jewellery or have an identity of my own, it bought me too much attention I didn’t want. The first time I put a ring on, someone I knew told me it’s super feminine to wear rings, he was a dumbass, it’s okay. I had so many rings, I forced myself to discard all 3, well 5 if you include the ones I got back. I left them in a dustbin in Canterbury. Because I knew there’s no place for that anymore. No place for misplaced memories.
I wear some rings now. A couple. One I got from Edinburgh, it’s got a Celtic knot on it. I like it a lot, I got it alongside another ring for a friend of mine. I don’t talk to the friend anymore, but I still have the ring, I wear it everyday. If I don’t my hand feels bare. I’ve been wearing at least one ring since 4 years, maybe 5.
A Sane Undertaking 