Slept for 5 hours

I have gone back to my sleep schedule, sleep at 9P, wake up at 2A.

I am worried that the drugs are becoming ineffective. When I started taking Zoloft, it worked great for the first week but the effects faded away after that. My mood isn’t elevated even though I am a bit more alert and energetic.

However, I am also concerned that I might have become a little too careless or impulsive. I have started spending money carelessly again.

My motivation is slightly better even though I feel no pleasure or emotions. I have noticed that I can get easily agitated, and I am more sensitive to my interaction with people.

I can’t do something for long because I get bored easily. Sometimes I don’t know what to do because nothing interests me.

I have also noticed that I have less determination and power of will.

The restlessness and foot tapping have stopped. My mind is a little calmer and clearer.

I am not feeling the effects of Celexa but the Abilify seems to help.

Existential Crisis

It happened 9 months ago. As I lay in my bed with a racing thomindughts, trying to calm my mind, I thought about the meaninglessness of life. About the absence of ultimate consequence to our earthly lives. This inconvenient conviction came from the reflecting on the idea of the after life, or the absence thereof.

But most important of all, was a new, deeper realization of my mortality. Knowing that my life is truly finite was shocking. Even though I had always known about death, It never struck me as an issue I should contemplate on.

Perhaps it is because I used to believe life was eternal and would continue forever, or maybe it was because I was only 17 years old.

It stroke me like a wave, immediately, the foundations for many of the beliefs and values I held dear were shaken, and invalidated. I felt intense pain and confusion.

The little barely noticeable wars and campaigns based on ideals I had accumulated from life leading to that point seemed insignificant. I believe this is the point where I departed from reality.

I did not know it but I had come to the conclusion that life is meaningless.

<em>Whatever happens will pass, be forgotten and its effects would eventually vanish.</em>

This Idea was causing me much distress so I tried to challenge it and go back to sanity.

If my life is eternal, in other words, has no finishing point, none of it matters.

If my life is finite, as it is, it should be lived as much as possible.

Immediately many of my fears disappeared and it seemed like this discovery was quiet a relief. But things turned out to the contrary. Even though I felt some degree for liberation, I became apathetic and indifferent at the same time.

Little by little, I became more and more careless about the consequences of my actions. I did not know I was on my way to becoming clinically depressed.

In the weeks that followed, my apathy reached a point where I could not care enough to keep my self from sleeping through on of my finals.

Slept for 5 hours

I have gone back to my sleep schedule, sleep at 9P, wake up at 2A.

I am worried that the drugs are becoming ineffective. When I started taking Zoloft, it worked great for the first week but the effects faded away after that. My mood isn’t elevated even though I am a bit more alert and energetic.

However, I am also concerned that I might have become a little too careless or impulsive. I have started spending money carelessly again.

My motivation is slightly better even though I feel no pleasure or emotions. I have noticed that I can get easily agitated, and I am more sensitive to my interaction with people.

I can’t do something for long because I get bored easily. Sometimes I don’t know what to do because nothing interests me.

I have also noticed that I have less determination and power of will.

The restlessness and foot tapping have stopped. My mind is a little calmer and clearer.

I am not feeling the effects of Celexa but the Abilify seems to help.

Woke up with a clearer mind

I had a normal 7 hour sleep for the first time last night. I went to bed at 11P and woke up at 6A. I feel somewhat refreshed and the anxiety seems to have gone away for the moment.

I am able to concentrate without pervasive racing thoughts.

Yesterday, I was in bed for 10 hours, even though I only slept the 5 hours. I lied in bed for another 5 hours, fully awake but too weak to get out of bed.

As for my mood, I would describe it as neutral. The detached feeling is still there but I think that is mainly because I am still unable to experience fear and remorse.

Afraid to be normal?

I started my medication three days ago. I haven’t seen any improvements. My mom says I smile a lot more, but I don’t feel pleasure inside. My motivation is slightly better but my racing thoughts have gotten worse.

People speak of knowing yourself but I don’t understand what they mean. They spend most of their time redefining their preferences, values, beliefs, etc.. and building their persona. When I recover and begin to have desires, and fears, I will have to start looking for my place in society.

So far in my life,  I have stuck closely to my own ways and refused to conform to a group. That probably left an arrogant impression on people. I guess, for most people, the comfort of belonging to a group and being labeled normal outweighs the clarity of self-understanding.

I can’t imagine myself putting up a persona and making first impressions. I think it is quiet pointless. I guess most people project an image of their ego when they are in social settings. I can very easily read people, meaning their intentions, motives because of my INFJ intuition. This makes it very hard to play along when people put up a mask. I think vanity and fashion are pointless.

I wish I was more flexible when it came to relationships and social groups. I adhere very closely to morals and have always done so. I have no doubt I will have difficulty “fitting into” a group. At school, I felt more comfortable around Asian students because we shared similar interests. But I wonder if I will be able to withstand the peer pressure of being around so many people of my ethnicity when I start school.

I don’t exactly remember when I stopped caring for maintaining a public image. It is probably a side effect of the depression.

This has been the case since I was a child, I felt detached because I had to always do the right thing. I sometimes wonder if I ever developed a personality. My wants were much simpler in my younger years and I hadn’t quiet tamed my mind. Conversations were difficult because I had to act or put up a mask because I couldn’t say how I felt. Now a days, it is easier because I spit out whatever is on my mind.

I know I need to conform if I am to ever have a social life. Dress, speak, talk like everyone else. I don’t think I was quiet satisfied with the persona I put up at my old school. People had the idea that I was some sort of genius and I didn’t quiet fit in with my peers.

If I was able to enjoy parties, dancing and letting go, my life would be easier. But this could all be because of my anxiety, the watchful mind that is always there.
The more I let go of my sense of self, the less I am anxious about what others think of me.  It is sometimes a relief to escape yourself.

But I have obligations. I have to go back and help my fellow countrymen. I have to follow customs and marry and raise children. I don’t desire that. I don’t have the image of the happy family life that is conjured up in so many people’s minds. I can easily penetrate through the fake smiles and insincere statements most make. I guess I value integrity too much.

I also feel like I have deconstructed the system people conform to. For a while it was me against them. I played the savior of the underdogs and honestly believed the mainstream was evil. It is quite reasonable to conform to society however imperfect it might be. But I still wonder if I will be able to give in to peer pressure if my social life depended on it.

Maybe I am too proud, too self-righteous. The concerns of the world seem insignificant when I honestly analyze my self because I see how temporal all things are.

Depressed for the first time in a while

I am depressed today. I feel low, tired, sleepy, uninterested, anxious. It started when I went to school to register for classes. I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time while I was waiting in line. I felt congested, at first I thought it was the noise. So I put on head phones, it wasn’t. The social anxiety is back.

It was so bad that I had to sit alone by myself to calm my mind down. I missed the peace of apathy. I didn’t calm down until I walked back home and got in my room, my safe space. It reminded me of everyday of high school.

I feel something. Even though it is subtle. I feel hopeless, I don’t want to go on any more. It is an indication that I haven’t made much progress at all. My rational side kicks in and tells me it is a chemical disorder. I have been ruminating over this ever since.

Maybe this is what triggers it. If there’s no cure for it, I would rather feel apathetic for the rest of this meaningless existence.

I don’t have faith in therapy or some magic pill anymore. I don’t even know if it is social anxiety anymore. I feel the same way when I go to stores and other closed environments with lots of people.

I think it is quite stupid to fight any longer. I have been trying to self-diagnose for two years now. I have gone from believing I have a genetic disorder to wishing I had a brain tumor.

Making it psychological makes it more of a character defect, as if I can help it. The constant worry and racing thoughts are back. I try to face reality, the present situation as honestly and objectively as possible. I need an explanation, as to why this happens.

My thoughts are chaotic sometimes I am just careless about sounding consistent. I will lose 50 pounds over the next 6 months. Will that improve my self-esteem and give me a stronger sense of self? I doubt it. I was just as anxious then.

I don’t care for my personal appearance, maybe I should.

Mood swing?

Today was somewhat depressing.  I slept through most of the day.
I decided to go out and get a Big Mac and Iced Coffee. I felt better afterwards.

On my way back, I thought about what I want to do with my future. I thought about becoming a psychiatrist or psychologist, instead of a Computer related field. I have learned that I must find meaning in what I do. As an INFJ, I derive meaning from helping others. And despite my own confusion about my own psychology, I can read people very easily.

I have always held interest in the field, but most people with whom I have shared this interest have told me I am more of a Computer guy. It is probably because of my indifference towards my appearance and how I come across to others. They also mentioned that most psychologists, therapists, etc.. are extroverted and people-oriented. Perhaps research and areas like that better suit my interest.

I also notice that I have started making strange facial expression when I talk to people.

After coming back home, I feel a little more motivated. I have picked up working on a website again.

I think this is because of Vitamin B6 and B12 pills I started taking yesterday. I was gloomier and more pessimistic yesterday.

I have also noticed that some of my old behaviors are starting again. When picking a seat at a McDonalds, I was driven to choose a corner seat. I also wear my hood most of the time, maybe it is to keep people from looking at me. I am beginning to avoid social contact.

Hopelessness

The past year has been passive and cold. I don’t feel hopeless because I have lost my ability to predict the future. I have done many stupid things, but I cannot feel remorse for my actions.

I am not aspirational. Without emotions, it is difficult to find meaning in anything. I tried going to church, praying but it is nothing more than reciting wishes to yourself. Life is a road paved with hints of pleasure and pain. Without these, existence is meaningless.

Perhaps all we ought to do is pursue what pleases us. Hedonism.

I cannot see how people find peace in belief of eternal life. I wonder if they dream of an eternal orgasm, but pleasure is nothing but an earthly indicator.

I tried to meditate, even started taking a class. But with a racing mind, I could not get anywhere.

I don’t know what the future looks like. What belief system must I choose, to convince myself I am the one who is deluded. Without sugar coating reality, I don’t know how people choose to go on.

I wish I could believe there was a man watching over me from the sky above. A father that would welcome my death “Well lived my son.” Unfortunately, I know there is no man in the sky. And the more I contemplate on it, I am more afraid of what reality could be.

What am I but one of  billions of conscious entities subject to the blind, unforgiving laws of nature?

I think it is funny how parents rejoice at the birth of a child. It seems as if they have stored all these questions and doubts about life in a box they seem to ignore. Perhaps it is my indifference that is causing this confusion.

I was much better at self-deception and ignoring the “rough spots” when I still felt.

But what is even scarier is that I when I look in the mirror, I see just a face. I no longer recognize a self. It is almost as if my sense of self disappeared completely. Even now, I don’t identify with these thoughts. I see them as nothing more than a ideas springing up in my mind.

I wonder if I will go back to being normal even after my emotions have been restored. I hope I will compare myself to others in worse conditions and feel ashamed. Maybe that will motivate me to conform, make friends, fulfill the social expectations.

If I were my old self, I would diagnose this state of mind as pure defiance. Against  the status quo, against everything normal. And it seems like there is no reason why I am this way. I felt no self-pity or other attitude toward myself to give myself the right to forget the norm. In fact, I was very conformist and idealist. I worried  about how others perceived me and my social status.

It may have been triggered by immense frustration. I remember back in Spring of 09, I would feel sudden onset of racing thoughts in class and lose my ability to concentrate. These thoughts came with anxiety about being judged by people surrounding me. I would waste a whole class hour absent minded and ask myself what the point was. When my efforts were not being met by results, the struggle seemed more and more meaningless.

As of right now, I say I have no desires or emotions. But it is possible that I have both, just no one to feel them. I find myself sometimes day dreaming about becoming motivated again, feeling alright and at peace with the world. Finding a place for myself in society, finally belonging. Finding optimism and feeling safe and secure. However, at other times, I think I died a long time ago. My spirit is dead and I am just pushing against a suicide deadline. The funny thing is there is no emotional tune to either of these types of thoughts. They pass and go just like thoughts about the weather. I have no preference for one over the other.

The reason I emphasize the “no-emotion” state is maybe because I am somewhat guarded by it. It presents a kind of new freedom, where my actions have no consequences, at least for me. Even though I can’t say I am pleased by it. I think I would rather stay dead and cold than go back to a constant state of anxiety and depression. In the past 9 months, I have witnessed myself destructing, like a silent observer.

I failed a quarter, I dropped out of college. If I still had emotions, I have no doubt I would be in a state of self-loathing. It seems all the work and sacrifice I went through in high school was in vain. But I don’t feel that. Maybe this state I am in is sort of a protective shell or coma constructed to protect whatever is left of my fragile ego.

Another disappointing failure is that I have failed in trying to find why this is happening. I began suspecting something was wrong my first year at college. I thought it might have been a hormonal imbalance, or something else wrong with the rest of my body. Being unable to concentrate, I felt stupid in many of my courses. Being black did not help either, I think I developed somewhat of a racial inferiority complex. I was regarded by my peers as smart because I seemed introverted and quiet. That increased my anxiety about fears regarding my academic performance.

I began researching and thought Klinefelter’s Syndrome might be a good fit for me. I saw a doctor more than three times but they said it was unlikely that I had it. Even though a couple of months passed with some sense of relief, I began wondering what was wrong with me when I saw that I did not share many of the Young Adult desires with my fellow mates. However, I found nothing wrong with the over-empathetic and lonely lifestyle I was leading. I had no doubt my floor mates regarded my behavior as odd, especially for a black person. But I had a firm sense of identity and self until “the night”.

“the night” is what I use to refer to this one sleepless night I lay in my bed and realized that none of it matters. I knew I was stepping into rough “thought territory” that night, but It seemed like a brave step in my quest to find why I could no longer sleep. The moment I realized that Life was short, that I would someday die and whatever does not ultimately matter, I felt like my brain was literally exploding. I was in terror. I then learned that everything I was doing. My sense of right and wrong, my ideals, were insignificant. This was painful because they were the reason I did not actively engage a social life. In my head, I was sort of fighting the norm or whatever conformity represented and it seemed meaningless. I tried to wrap my head around it by considering the possibility of an eternal after-life, but in eternity there can be no consequences. So it is just as meaningless.

I was scared, terrified at first. I knelt and prayed. Moment after moment, the emotional baggage I had been carrying since childhood unfolded. I did not sleep that night. The next day, I felt liberated in that I no longer felt the social anxiety that had been haunting me for years. It was almost like a soothing relaxation.

Looking back, I think I would be a lot better off if “the night” hadn’t happened. I have always been curious and insightful about things. However, I don’t understand why a 17 year old thinks about heavy matters such as the meaning of life.

But I haven’t lost everything , I have gained some freedoms from it as well. I don’t spend time worrying about how I rank on the social ladder. My communication skills have improved greatly. I think my intellect is somewhat sharper, although less focused. However, responsibility and emotion wise, I have become like a child. I behave in ways I didn’t in my teen years.

Right now, I can almost say I am content about having no emotions. (Not the emotion, contentment) The weight is probably too heavy to dawn on me instantly. I would let my brain heal on its own except for the motivation part. I find myself making stupid decisions everyday, and without remorse, I might end up in pretty bad shape by the time I come back to sanity.

I sometimes find myself making strange facial expressions. Combination of smiling and anger. I still laugh when I hear a good joke and smile when I am complemented, but I feel no joy at all on the inside. For that same reason, I avoid situations where an emotional stimulus is expected. In addition, I know that I sometimes seem  to be suppressing laughter and smiling. This awareness makes it all more uncomfortable.

In a Buddhist sense, I can almost say I am free of attachments. No ego to maintain, no love, no relationships, no cravings if it weren’t for the constant racing thoughts. Yet I don’t pride myself as one might expect because there is no one to attribute this quality to.

If I could humble myself, like I once was able to. I would not have anxiety. It is wise to “let go and let god” if possible. I envy the simpler me I was a year ago.

However deep within, I find my self repeating the notion “i have no desire”. Maybe these thoughts are feelings and I do have desires but I cannot feel them. But thinking about the most hurtful memories doesn’t bring up any emotion at all.

I cannot say I feel this or that way because I have contradictory thoughts in my mind. If I feel any emotion at all, maybe it is fear that I will go back into a deep depression again.

Freewill and Personal Responsibility a Myth?

I used to be a strong believer in personal responsibility. I now believe its a myth constructed by the egos of the fortunate and healthy. The Norm was something I aspired to conform to long ago. Now, it seems nothing more than a product of society’s collective ideals. Social etiquette and proper behavior seem like a joke. I wonder why ordinary people  put enormous amount of effort into making sure they conform to societal standards.

I think the reason I feel indifferent to conformism is because of my inability to feel pleasure. Pride seems to be the main motivator for most people, they rank themselves with their peers according to how much they have succeeded in accomplishing what is expected of them.

I remember the lowest state I ever experienced. I could not do anything. It was as if I was simply a conscious observer to whatever happened. I was helpless. It seemed like I could get myself to do things only out of necessity. I lied in bed in confusion with my foot tapping on the bed rails. I would notice my feet take turns. When the racing thoughts subsided, my left foot would fill in.

I felt nothing at that time. Thoughts without emotions are empty speculations. I could predict the consequences of my actions but felt completely careless about it. I don’t think I would have cared if I were evicted and took on the homeless lifestyle. Without any motivation, I watched the weeks pass by helplessly watching the course of events. Of course I felt nothing at all when I walked to the Admissions office and withdrew from the university.

I guess Dream would be a good word to describe the experience. Without emotions, I am completely detached from reality. And by emotion, I also mean remorse, pride, joy, pleasure, pain. Even though I felt anxiety, I would not describe it as an emotion because I felt no worry. It was simply racing thoughts, inability to concentrate and general discomfort in my mind. On the days, I am most depressed, it turns into pain, an itch. I was sure I could pin point the location in my skull.

When did it start?

I remember when I was 9 or 10, I would tell my parents that I was bored for no reason. I am sure they dismissed it as ordinary boredom. But I remember feeling like that everyday after school.

I clearly remember a period in the 9th grade when I felt like depressed. I remember the beginning of the year when I felt so depressed that I had thoughts of jumping off a cliff at our school. I told that to my friend, who noticed that I had lost weight and asked if I was alright. He thought I was joking too. But I was not sad for any particular reason. I was not sad at all. I even had periods of joy and happiness.

And then mid-year of that school year, I remember feeling detached. I felt as if I were living in the back of my brain. I felt like I had no control. But I wasn’t depressed at all, just removed. I felt I was in my heart, not in my brain. I felt like a silent observer watching everything pass bye. Even though I had bouts of excitement, and activities I enjoyed, I had social anxiety.

I can’t remember when it started. I did not start being shy until I got to middle school or so. But the shyness only prevailed at family get-togethers where I was afraid about being criticized. I remember it got worse after I turned 13. I would not goto social events and tried my best to avoid contact with people. I also think it is when my parents started giving me autonomy and that gave me more time to spare. I think my father started noticing it when I would hide in my room and sit on my computer whenever we invited people. He was worried I would not develop my social skills if I spent too much time on the computer. Little did he know, it was sort of an escape from the outside world.

At school, I had a few friends but I would spend a great amount of time sitting alone by myself. I think I felt isolated because I could not play sports. PE class was the worst class for me. It had been like that for a long time. There was no other reason except I had poor motor and coordination skills. The only sport I enjoyed was table tennis, which did not require a lot of moving around. I think it might have been a contributing factor but it was probably very insignificant. I had good self-esteem and the school climate did not bother me at all.

I was often the youngest in my class and I probably the least developed sexually among my classmates. I did not begin to have sexual desires until I almost turned 14. I felt no special emotional connection to that school or any of my previous schools for that matter.

I think the shyness turned into social anxiety after I came to the US. I felt anxious around people of all kinds, relatives and sometimes even family. My first year in the US, my sophomore year in high school was difficult. I think this was mainly because of the anxiety. As a child, I was one of the top presenters in my classes. I had no stage freight or a bit of self-consciousness for that matter. However, I developed an irrational fear that I was being judged by everyone. It seemed gradual, but it was full blown by the time I got to second semester.

I did not recognize there was something wrong with me or with my thought process. I was sensitive to even the slightest indication of being judged. If I saw an eye gaze, or even people laughing as I passed by them, I would think negatively of me. However, I had a pretty good relationship with myself.

It also had a lot to do with my English. Whenever I forgot or mispronounced a word, I would put huge punishment on my self. It might have to do with a false sense of superiority I had. This perfectionist attitude made my class presentations and conversations very difficult. I would review every sentence in my brain before I said it. If I thought I received a negative reaction, I would take it hard on myself. Class presentations were the worst part of my high school experience. But this is to be expected from any immigrant student.

School wasn’t a problem until I changed High Schools my junior year. Beginning that year, I felt a general intellectual decline. It was suddenly harder for me to concentrate. I was also taking a PE class which made things a lot worse. My poor physical fitness and bad coordination was a problem. In short, I was made the “fat kid” of the class because I could not run or hit a ball. I think this is when my self-image turned negative. I did well in other classes so I compensated for it with hard work. I did not begin to feel lonely, until I found myself being the last one in a group. I felt like nobody cared about me. I still managed to get through the year with a D in PE class.

I would say the Sadness started that year. On some days, I would fantasize about jumping onto traffic while I walked back from school. But I still had my good days and the future seemed full oh hope