Disgust And Pity Are Intertwined

I talked with my Mom for two hours tonight. We talked about a lot
of things.

We talked about how one of her friends has cancer now and how she
feels like she an invisible disability.

We talked about how anti-depressants never worked for her, and she
said it was because she isn't depressed.

We talked about how she feels more pity for her friend than for my
father, and that she lost all trust for my father when she found
him looking at pornography.

We talked about how I think she dismisses whatever psychiatrists
and psychologists by criticizing them or using their flaws to not
listen to what they have to say.

We talked about how she thinks the two problems she has are my
father and finding a new job after she was fired from her last one.

Those are not the only two problems my mother has. Some of her
other ones are alcoholism and manic-depression. My mother is in
very deep denial about things we all know to be true, but never
talk to her about. It is only when I really think about this fact
that it seems strange and dishonest to constantly keep silent to
her about the problems she has which we all recognize but have
silently agreed never to address.

Sometimes I wonder if she knows that we are constantly keeping
things from her, that we no longer acknowledge her as a human being
completely in control of herself anymore.

I think that would hurt more than anything, if she really knew that
we all talked about her behind her back, that we discussed all the
things that were wrong with her and what a horrible person she
sometimes is.

At least she has excuses for her behaviour, but what are our
justifications? How can we go about living in complicity with
things we know are wrong but never confront them? How can I feel
like letting things slide further and further along a path I know
leads in further depression and possibly suicide and feel like I am
a good person, let alone a good son?

How can I accept that there is no right path out of this, and that
things may never improve, and that my mother could die like this,
without ever escaping?

Overload

I'm almost done my exams, and currently my brain feels like it is
filled with a mixture of equal parts mothballs and dust bunnies. We
had a party last night, to celebrate the completion of most of our
exams, so my room is filled with empty wine and liquor bottles.

Sparkling wine with raspberries is delicious.

I decided during the course of the party that I don't in fact like
the girl I thought I did. Which is confusing, but hey, if my
emotions and thoughts weren't confusing to me I'd know what the
hell was going on, that would make for a more fulfilling but less
interesting life.

Also, I wouldn't get to write about my horrible, dramatic problems,
and this post would be full of things like, "I'm more in love than
I've ever been before" and, "The world is a beautiful place, and
I'm just so glad to live in it." See, much less interesting.

I've decided that when I go back home I'm going to try and attempt
a complete detoxification of my life. No more pornography, no more
erotica, no more horrible food, no more wasting the majority of my
time thinking about those things and the harm they are causing me.
Whenever I feel the urge to have pizza, I'll stuff my face with
salad. I might get addicted to salad, but I think that's a socially
acceptable addiction. Whenever I feel the urge to masturbate, I'm
going to go on a long walk or practice the piano. I don't know if
it will work, but at the least I might walk more and get better at
the piano.

I get the feeling that the biggest thing stopping me from changing
things in my life is that I continually put them off. It's ironic
that I'm putting off these improvements to when I get home, but I
think a change of scenery and pace is just what I need to acquire
the momentum I need.

We'll see how this works out. In the mean time, I need to go look
at pictures of naked boys and chomp down on a few cheeseburgers.

I'm kidding. I think.

Trivialities

It's cold here, so I'm wearing long johns under my jeans. They're
showing through the wholes in my jeans, but it's comfortable, so it
doesn't matter.

I should be studying, but I have other things on my mind. Whether I
should call a girl I think I like. Whether I should go and make
some tea. Whether I should work with my brother this summer or
travel.

For the amount of what-ifs I have, nothing really seems to happen.
The two may be connected.

I keep wanting to go back and see what I've written. I'm sure there
are mistakes in my previous posts, and I'm a perfectionist and
don't want anyone reading to ever think I could make grammar
mistakes.

I'm halfway through the Iliad. Everyone panned Troy, but so far
it's been a pretty accurate adaption. Lots of people are killed in
various gruesome ways. Although they left out everything to do with
the Gods and Goddesses, which was a mistake in my opinion. It's
some of the most entertaining stuff in the poem.

Conflictions and Addictions

I think I'm trying to go cold turkey off too many things at once.
My attempt to eat healthy has caused me to realize that I start to
imagine myself eating gooey pizza after a few days without a good
grease fix, and my self-imposed ban on masturbation has somehow
turned most of my body into an erogenous zone. It's less fun than
it sounds.

I've been very conflicted about my sexuality for years, but things
are getting even more confused, if that's possible. I'm thinking
I'm bisexual at this point. I was leaning towards thinking I was
only attracted to men but recent events have proven I'm definitely
attracted to women too. I guess it's like that Woody Allen quote.

It could also just be that without masturbating my body is willing
to respond to <i>any</i> kind of stimulation, no matter the gender
of the person causing it.

The last few days have really taught me how it is to control your
body. I don't mean the automatic stuff, like walking and talking
and so on, but the more primal things. It's so difficult to tell
your body that it won't get what it wants, even if it's readily
available.