Distance.

I’m sure anyone who travels a lot eventually reaches a point where they get used to it; the actual travel becomes less noticeable, the process less sacred and more commonplace. I mean, I have a few friends who have jetsetted a fair bit recently, back and forth across the continent for work, or even overseas.

So yeah, my traveling by train in one direction or the other across Southern Ontario isn’t such a big deal, and I dare say I’ve reached that point, too. But there were a couple of times this past weekend (my weekends are now Sunday through Tuesday) that I really felt a sense of the distance I’ve traveled… really felt quite far from home, far from where I lay myself to rest.

The first such time I felt far from home happened on Monday evening as I was going for a walk through Aurora with Nicole, having accompanied her there for her to teach in a music school. The second time was tonight, as I got home to London and felt far away from Nicole.

Tales from Tech Support.

I had this one guy call in today, thick Jamaican accent. He tells me he can’t connect to the Internet, so I starts the standard troubleshooting… asking him when things last worked for him, asking about his home network, running line tests and the like.

The tests I run are perfect. I tell him so, and ask him to open his web browser, let me know when the homepage or error loads up. He doesn’t make a sound for quite some time, so I ask him how it’s going. “It didna load up.” So I ask him about clearing out the address bar, and he tells me he can’t find it, simply reads this msg, “finds and displays information and Web sites on the Internet.”

So I realize he hasn’t even opened it, as he’s reading off to me every icon he has on his desktop. I try to tell him to double-click it, but I can hear the clicks - slower than scheisse. So yeahs, I manage to talk him into restarting his computer, and we try again.

So I’ve been on the phone with him for 25-30 minutes, easily, before I manage to coax him to click on it once, and then press the Enter key. And though by this point I was understanding him perfectly, I have never heard exclamations of joy the likes of which came next when he was able to “connect to da Intahnet.”

Do you TV?

It’s crazy, I watch so little television anymore… anyone looking to kick the habit of watching too much of it should simply follow my lead and start doing shift work.

I mean, after working a year and a half each of a night and afternoon shift at Faurecia, and then nine months of a night shift here in London with Ceva, I’ve very much gotten out of the habit of watching TV. But it comes as a mixed blessing - shows I really love (The Simpsons, Without A Trace, Survivor) have gotten away from me, and shows I have an interest in seeing (24, Lost) go on without me.

And speaking of Survivor, last night I continued my recent tradition of watching only the finale. And wow, what a season it looked to be… I have to say, I love the fact that this group of women dominated so much at the end of the game, blindsiding person after person by surprise voting them off of the game, only to be shocked to find out that they had to vote out additional members of their clique. I mean, you all know how huge a fan of irony I am.

Anyway, I am looking for things to get into now that I’m working a day job. I want something I can enjoy and discuss with friends and the like. What do you think? What’s good out there?

Do you TV?

Happy Mother’s Day.

Word to all your mothers.

Silver Wings.

Thrice - Silver Wings (Acoustic)

Last month, Thrice unveiled the second half of their concept masterpiece, The Alchemy Index, with the release of the Air and Earth discs. The new discs feature melodic, Coldplay-esque (Air) and acoustic songs (Earth), adding to the hardcore (Fire) and synthesized atmospheric (Water) music released back in October.

I think this package is absolutely incredible, and very neatly ties the other two disc together into an inspiring whole. Above I’ve included a really cool acoustic cut of Silver Wings, the song that closes the Air chapter, and I highly recommend that after you listen to it, you check out the actual album version to see the striking contrast.

Never before have I heard such genius and reinvention in a screamo band… well, excepting of course this one time…

Bobbyisms.

“So yep, turns out that ever since it got replaced, my smoke detector has also become an ‘uh oh, somebody’s taking a shower’ alarm…”

A push and a pull.

I’ve felt very much out of control of myself or my emotions for the past couple of weeks. It’s a weird thing to feel, a push and a pull; I’m full of these conflicts I can’t wrap my head around.

I feel very much compelled to move, to act - like I have to be driving toward something, moving toward some goal - and yet unmotivated to do so. I mean, I know I need to get up and go to work each day, I know there’s a point and purpose to it, but I don’t want to leave my apartment. I’m afraid I’m going to break down in public again, act like the crazy people you see on the streets, afraid of being judged, maybe afraid of being pitied.

Likewise, I don’t much sleep - the other night I went to bed shortly after 11:00 pm, and woke up at 4:00 - but it’s so hard to get out of bed in the mornings, so hard to convince myself to get up and dressed. Does that have to do with the leaving-the-house thing I already mentioned? I don’t know. I hope this medication starts working soon… I feel like such a basketcase some days.

Overall, it wasn’t such a bad day. I just feel weird sometimes. What’s wrong with me? What’s pulling the strings? I’ve never felt so out of control of my own life before, like I could just be along for the ride, just be completely semi-conscious and watch to see how things turn out.

I wrote this one song a couple of years ago - I was thinking about it today and thought it took on a kind of new shape. I’m including a piece of it here:

Who will buy my tendencies? Who will pay to take them off of my hands?
I slip inside where I won’t be seen, though I don’t know exactly where I am
And who’s behind my vacancy? Say hello, and say it clearly
I come undone every Saturday - I come around because admission’s free

But who will find me? Who’s that coming up behind?

Ugh.

I felt really horrible when I woke up this morning, like a well of dread in my stomach. The day was really long, and when I got home some fourteen hours later, I can’t say as I felt much better. Here’s hoping Thursday proves a little better. Night, world.

Of apologies.

I tried a short while ago to curl up and get some rest, but I was unable. I had boiled the kettle, and chose to disregard it, but now am taking myself up on that cup of tea. Sitting at the computer, I was prompted to update a program on my hard drive, and it’s driven me to go ahead and clean up some of the shit that’s collected.

And so in such a spirit, and within the vein of honesty, I’ve decided to address something intensely personal, and of which I am extremely sensitive: I am clinically depressed. It’s no secret that I became incredibly dysphoric back in September when my relationship ended, but it didn’t stop. I continued descending in spirit for a couple of months, until I finally had a complete emotional breakdown.

Things continued along those lines for awhile, and I eventually attempted other relationships. But the truth of the matter was that my heart wasn’t in it; I was only pretending to heal, pretending to get better for the sake of everyone else around me. I got tired of people telling me that they wanted the happy, energetic, extroverted Bobby back. Thinking on it now, it’s hard to believe such a person really exists.

The real truth was that I was still very much in love with Nicole, and couldn’t do anything to get over the fact that she was no longer mine. She had gotten over me, was with someone else, and I had no love or joy left in me. I continued this way until February, when I saw her again, and she told me she felt the same for me, that she wanted to be with me again also. And so it was.

And perhaps foolishly, I expected things would get better. In a lot of ways, they have; I have a source of love and joy again, but she lives far away. And the pain of the distance seems compounded by the depression I’ve been suffering so long. Feelings of abandonment, issues left over from the collective of my life… I’ve become almost as many ugly shades of a person I can think of. I’m neurotic, jealous, paranoid, deeply disparate, unable to eat, and an insomniac, subject to horrible attacks of anxiety… to begin.

I’m not gaining anything from being so honest here, and in fact stand a chance of having my condition held against me and suffering certain circumstances from it. But I’ve been silent so long, letting none but Nicole in, and only getting worse in the process. In fact, the last few weeks I’ve been completely unable to control my emotions at all, breaking down daily during fits of hyperventilation.

Part of what’s made me feel especially bad lately is that I’ve been making Nicole suffer along with me, allowing no one person but her know anything that’s been going on with me. She’s had to listen from a great distance, attempting to coach me in breathing and relaxation while I sob and stutter and apologize. I’m not going to get into the depths of my malaise, but it’s been very rough, and I know it’s bothered her in ways I’d rather not have.

I first attempted to get help a couple of months ago, in February. I had gotten back together with Nicole, but finally being able to tell the truth, to let everything go and just be with her again only made the months of lies resonate within me, and I went into counseling through an employee services program through work. Those sessions were limited mainly to me discussing my thoughts and feelings with little reciprocation, and expired before I was awarded any insight or perspective.

Currently, I am pursuing further counseling, but in both cases I’ve been urged to get professional help, to get proper medical attention. I took the first step a few days ago, when I went to the hospital here in London to seek out proper psychiatric care. Now, early this afternoon, I have an appointment to get help through an urgent care facility downtown.

Only time will tell if writing about this was a good idea or not. I have no idea what lies in store for me; I’ve avoided medication for some time because I’ve been afraid of its effects. I’ve been very much afraid to lose my personality to medicine, to lose the creativity and intrigue, but honestly I haven’t felt much of any of it for a long time. I just want to become stable again, to become a better person for my daughter and the woman I love.

I know this post will come as a surprise to most, as I’ve been trying very hard to keep my condition a secret. This will come as explanation to some, those few times I’ve slipped against better judgment and sent messages or made phone calls in especially troubled states. This will come as clarity to others, who’ve noticed the eccentricities in my behaviour (or, for example, the lack of any substance in my writing for some time - I’ve been too troubled to write anything personal) and expressed concerns that I’ve sidestepped.

But what I really want to say to all of my friends and family is that I’m sorry - I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I’ve only recently begun actually talking about it. I’m sorry that I led you all to believe I was okay; I guess I felt I’d get over everything in time, but everything just got over me. I don’t know what happens from here, but I know where I’m going this afternoon, and I can only hope that more of the journey reveals itself then.

Bobbyisms.

“So I realized the other day I may be becoming a little too fond of my bookbag… it’s one of those off-the-hip bag with the top that flaps over, I’ve had it since high school. And, well… I’ve started to feel lately like it’s becoming something like a, uh… purse.

“See, I had to go to the hospital on Sunday, so I grabbed the book I’ve been reading lately. And then I thought that I might like some gum at some point, and then thought it best to have a pen with me, just in case. And then I realized should bring the pills I’ve been taking for my throat infection, etc.

“It went on like that, and I wound up tossing everything into my bag and throwing it over my shoulder. And it occurred to me then that should I ever toss any change in there, it would be official. And I could never look at myself in the mirror again.”