h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

I don't quite know where to begin. I write so little that when I finally do get around to writing, I have so much to say - and so little to build on - that I end up writing very pretentious-sounding essays about myself, and this particular piece of quasi-philosophical wisdom has been long-coming (at least as for the last few days) and redrafted in my mind several times. The positive aspects of finally formalising thought, I'm rationalising to myself, include the one shining fact that whatever I write, it is, in fact, unlikely to be read (or, if read, taken seriously) by anyone at all.

On the other hand, I - yet again - get the feeling that I'm attention seeking, which adds insult to injury with regard to everything I already feel. So if at any point anyone who DOES read this thinks I'm attention seeking, then they're quite free to stop reading.

Now old enough to be starting university, what I have to write about goes back almost a decade, at which point, quite unfairly (because, all other things being equal, I shouldn't have had any problems in life at all, really), I contented myself to start causing problems for myself (because I can hardly see that anyone else such as myself has major problems at such a young age without causing them for themself). I managed to induce my classmates, the rest of my year, and finally the rest of the school I was at to make me subject to some fairly serious abuse (most of which I almost certainly deserved), after several years of which (and more than a handful of broken bones, scars, and injuries; the phrase 'if this is what I look like on the outside, imagine what I look like on the outside' comes to mind) I escaped to another school, to neatly summarise 4 years of my life in one neat paragraph.

If I thought that I'd got around my self-caused problems, I was wrong, because - being who I am - in the 6 years intervening I've progressively caused more and more problems for myself, and dropped myself deeper and deeper into a cycle of depression, it seems in retrospect, the further I've gone. Without wanting to dwell on what is, of course, exceptionally boring, egocentric, and self-serving, I've managed to recreate for myself the subjective abuse I suffered in previous years (on a smaller scale), not to mention get myself into a set of intertwining relationships in the last 3 years which have managed to let me hurt not only myself but other people but to say the least.

As I've progressively tried to escape from the people who I induced to treat me in a way which I almost certainly wholly deserved (many of whom followed my path from one school to another, all of whom have maintained admirably constant attitudes towards me), I've spent more and more time on computers, adding to my problems and giving me a dependency to boot. It is, perhaps, fitting that I now find myself almost unable to express in a form even approaching coherence without first being able to collect my thoughts in a manner akin to how I do so online, and this serves as an explanation for why I'm writing this here.

Over the last two years, as far as anyone who'll be reading this is concerned (and at this point, for an unknown reason, I'm making the conscious decision to write for an audience I don't have), most conspicuously, I've been in a relationship of varying proportions with Lisa (U50758) in which, as I've said, I managed to hurt people other than myself. For more reasons unknown to me, and through intentions which seemed to me to be good, I tried as best I could to be as supportive as I could, and - in doing so - started more prominently than ever before to sideline how I felt. Sadly, this (twice) resulted in my breaking up the relationship, the first time at a slightly less destructive stage, as far as I can see, than the second. My motives the first time around remain a mystery, but after months of agonising, my only reasons for doing so the latter time around were that after having sidelined almost everything I thought and felt for almost 8 months I would have ended up otherwise causing far more hurt to others than I've ended up doing.

My mental state before, through, and after this - which branches into the reason for my writing - has become markedly muddled and confused but to choose the sparsest of adjectives. From being (from what I can see) manically depressed for the best part of a decade, I've shifted into having a set of moods (or elsewise have noticed or exaserpated the same moods) which conform to those of a normal person in virtually no degree whatsoever, and have a range of qualities (mental, personality-related, and social) which are, to understate the fact, off-beam.

To summarise, simplify, and condense, I have a markedly unstable sense of reality which seems to change when nudged by the strangest (and least well-defined) of (seemingly random) factors, and moodwise, I'm very unstable (and spent a good deal of my time simply trying to wrap my mind around how I feel without even connecting to the world around me). Partly as a result of how I feel and how my mind has increasingly started working and partly as a result of the relationships which I've been in (that with lisa, and that which occupied me in the months of june, july and august, which hit me harder than the reaction which ensued to my break-up with lisa) other elements of my perception (most notably my sense of trust) have become markedly twisted.

Variously, over the course of the last two hours, I've progressed through a highlighted spectrum of moods flowing through from a caffienated state in which my mind was wrapped up numbly (but relatively contently), melting into a quite severe sense of hopelessness and despair to simple overwhelming regret, the gaps in between being equally unpleasant. I’ve spent a good length of time staring at walls, a good length of time crying with little idea of what for, and a good length of time thinking other assorted unhealthy things. I only wish I could say that this were an out of the ordinary day. One thing which perpetually adds to my anguish is the simple fact that however I feel, in progressing to more and more unpleasant states of mind, I end up feeling like the boy who cried wolf, every time feeling worse than that before, and running out of words to express what I feel.

As always, I apologise for those affected by me both this evening and at other points in my life, and hope that my mind's inability to maintain any coherent sense of personality, aspect, feeling, emotion, or philosophy will at the least cease to affect those around me.

Again, apologies to all those who I've hurt. Pray that I cease to trouble the world soon.

*enters your room quietly, touches your temples gently* One person read this anyway *kisses your brow lingeringly, whispers kind things to you, and dims the light as she leaves*

*debates her justification to be able to respond*

*s you and lets out a tear*

You know Im here......despite medication and loony bins. When you get to SouthHampton, you only need to yell and I'll to my best to get there as soon as I can.
Thats on the narcissistic assumption that you find any sort of comfort in me of course.

Despite how much your apalling excuse for an ego dictates your self worth, you are amazing and as you know hurt is just part of lifes pretty picture, I love you. Providing you can cope with my detrimental charasteristics, I will be yours for whatever purpose - be it hug machine or merely an ear - for as long as you want me.
Which, im aware, doesnt offer much help. If anything it almost certainly does quite the opposite.



(Oh, and Nyssa, I didnt want to reply to your journal last night because I didnt know whether you'd want me to, but , how is he?)

*subscribes to journal before this disappears*

¦M¦

.. thankyou, nice people. *goes off to hide and try not to attract any more attention*

- Njan