actuality.log


Friday, October the 22nd, 2010

Stacey’s life path has been remarkably different from mine. For instance, she’s lived with another boy before. I am not always OK with bits of information like this, and my lack of real acceptance manifests in sinister ways, especially when she’s away. Like what happened last evening at an Opera performance (in a shady bar themed to match a submarine!).

Pleasant conversation and fun people, the evening was going remarkably well until the negative stresses popped up. The cuteish mid-twenty year old cuddling up to an older guy. She was enjoying the show, and he was enjoying her touch.

I couldn’t help but imagine you with someone else. I looked around and I started to see your face everywhere. A younger you. A naïve you with an innocent face, clearly in love. The happiness in your face as you looked at him; it haunted me.

The music changed. The once cheerful lyrics now dark and ominous.

And I needed to leave.

This is a printer-friendly version of the journal entry “Drowning in opera” from actuality.log. Visit http://emphaticallystatic.org/earlier/drowning-in-opera/ to read the original entry and follow any responses to it.

2 Responses to “Drowning in opera”

  1. Sosha says:

    I have been subscribing to your blog feed for quite a while now, but have not commented before. Your photographs are gorgeous (my son would like to know what camera you use) and writing style is excellent. But the best thing about your posts is that you don’t hold back anything – both the negative are right there out in the open. Lots of people hide behind humor or sarcasm or use stuff like religion or ideology as crutches. So I was surprised to read that you think you are borderline autistic. Actually there was a time when I thought I was too – but naaw – we feel too much, too deeply, to be autistic. I’ve felt the same way lots of times – connected to humanity but at the same time totally alienated. I don’t think that comes under the autistic spectrum because your (and my) emotions are all there. It’s more of the blues and a bit of angst and alienation (and loneliness) thrown in. At the risk of sounding slightly boastful, I think the source of it all is the blessing (and sometimes a curse) of having a high IQ. Don’t try medicating – I tried it and felt like a zombie. We have to learn to live with it I guess…

    • pundit says:

      I’m delighted to hear that you like my writing style and the photographs that I take. Thank you for stopping by and pointing that out. My journal is fairly representative of what is going on in my life (albeit exaggerated on occasion for effect), and most of my pictures are taken with a Canon EOS 20D camera with a 24-70 mm lens.

      I agree with you to some extent that much of my angst stems from all the things you say: capacity to overthink things, alienation and the resulting loneliness, … but my basic point here I think is that much of these stem from one reason: My inherent inability to connect with people the way I want to. The way I think comes naturally to most other people.

      I’m loosely using the word autism here, but I probably should use Asperger’s or something else, because there a few instances of genuinely serious autism coupled with mental retardation in my family tree, and my problems aren’t nearly that serious. I do have very intense feelings, and the capacity to mull over them and process them. These feelings are a source of great bliss and great turmoil in my life. And the scary part (to people around me, mostly) is that the transition between these states can happen within an instant.

      Just to point out, I have been under medication previously. I don’t recall it doing much for me, but I do recall feeling that the world was treating my differently. And I feel they helped calm down my manic-depressive states to a level whereby I could finish my PhDs. (And not jump off a cliff.) Placebo effect or not, I’ll never know. I weaned off them when life improved.

      Today, my partner is a shrink. I talk to her. A lot lot. And that usually helps me process things.

      But not always, and that’s where the journal comes in. And that’s why I don’t hold back anything here.


1 people conned into wasting their bandwidth.