actuality.log


Tuesday, October the 21st, 2003

Disclaimer: What follows below is a bit more than a bit disturbing. At least for me it is. It gets down to levels of me questioning my own sanity. The information cannot and will not be used against me ever, like you’ve all agreed to, by being here in the first place. If it ever comes up, I was trying my hand at fiction, and that’s that. Mock me, judge me, pity me, do whatever you please. But if you have nothing positive to say, keep it to yourself. (Yes, I have more than enough difficulty dealing with and responding to the extremely large volume of comments and emails I get regarding what I say here.)

I’m typing this outside in the cold somewhere. I have to. I need to try to get this down in words before I lose it, though I think I already have. It’s happened twice today already, and it’s not even ten in the morning.

It’s this extreme rush of emotion. More explicitly, this sort of overwhelming mix of sadness, fear, helplessness… . My stomach’s all curled up and I’ve just decided to stop here for a breath of air. It’s a pain so strong you get sick in your stomach. Yet your eyes and other senses are overloading you with information from the surroundings going overboard attempting to inform you all is normal, and all is well. Yet you just want to curl up in a foetal position and wait for it to pass. It’s not always scary or painful or necessarily negative. It is just intense, much more than normal, and has no real event or reason attached to the feeling. I am almost sure there isn’t even a real reason for feeling any of what I felt a few minutes ago.

It must be lack of sleep. I think the brain uses this time to sort of rearrange things in a way it feels most comfortable with. When you deprive it a few days worth of sort time, it will start doing it when you are awake. There is feeling, without an event attached. Then slowly, the event starts to form in a vague blur as the feeling gets more intense.

(To put things vaguely in perspective, think of falling into the deep end of a pool and not knowing how to swim. You will realize what sort of pain/fear mix I am talking about. I think.)

By this time I’ve just stopped and almost waiting for it to play out, because I have this intense urge to know what it is that’s affecting me so strongly. I am just sitting there, almost willing and trying to force it to make itself clear, though the feelings are getting unbearable. But, just as it begins to form, there is this equally strong rational side that’s constantly informing and attempting to kill it, on the basis that the event isn’t real. This has happened before, and lack of sleep has not had anything to do about it. It’s just, movie after movie after book after book after game after game? When you are in a semi sleep mode or dreamy state or just plain letting your brain run wild, you begin to lose a sense of what is real and what isn’t.

I almost know it is this. Through all that hyperventilating and stomach churning so much, you think you�re going to puke, I tend to try to recognize some parts of the blur, and it’s clear they aren’t associated with events or things that are clearly related to my life. That’s the realization that kills the feeling, before it’s too strong to bear.

I am not making any sense right now and I know it. And it’s passed; there is nothing I can say right now that can capture it, as it has erased itself just as quickly as it formed. I must be sounding pretty insane right about now. It’s just, I am not used to… I am fine.

Added at a saner moment: Kids, if you chose to disobey the “don’t read me” on top and have reached this point, please, game in moderation. In particular long, winding, vague and dream inducing stuff (and fantasy games that leave more questions in your head than answers) like The Longest Journey. Obviously, they can affect you in devious and painful ways eons after you�ve stopped �doing them�.

And parents, talk to your kids, they will listen.

No, I don’t “See dead people” ™.

This has not been a paid presentation for any of the products mentioned or implied above.

This is a printer-friendly version of the journal entry “Don’t read me” from actuality.log. Visit http://emphaticallystatic.org/earlier/dont-read-me/ to read the original entry and follow any responses to it.

2 Responses to “Don’t read me”

  1. anita says:

    i don’t think you’re insane. i’ve had moments like those. actually, more than just moments – they sometimes last for an hour or so. and, being a girl, i’m usually crying the whole time. anyway, hang in there. whatever it is/was, it’ll pass.

  2. harish says:

    We cry too. Just, society and things, we’re forced to in a surreptitious manner.

    It’s all fine now.

    Thanks.


1 people conned into wasting their bandwidth.