Rapid Cycling Failure Complex

I know a lot of people who talk about the concept of manifest destiny as if the only thing separating me from more success is my shitty attitude. Maybe that’s true, but also, I don’t believe in saying that kind of shit to a mentally ill person. I truly wish I could stop comparing myself to other people, but it is a fucking disease. I’m doing the best I can to keep a positive outlook, but I have this feeling that I’m never gonna get any better and that nothing any cooler than what has already happened to me will ever happen to me. I am so terrified of this complacency. I’m fucking destroyed by my concept of self. I am truly embarrassed. I don’t want to give up, but I need to try my hand at another table.

My mental illnesses feel like anchors and through some astrological metaphor being that I am a fish, I’m somewhat still breathing at the bottom of the swamp I was thrown in. This city endlessly haunts me with every door that never opens. I am not accomplished enough to roll with the folks I want to roll with, and they wouldn’t allow me to anyway. I’m not here to try and throw anyone into a vortex of bitterness, I just feel as though I’ve had my hand held out for someone to pull me up and I can’t seem to be rescued.

“Well now, that there’s just a defeatist attitude.” they say. Though I don’t know how to feel any way else. I am wandering throughout the Rockies searching for a better perspective, but to no avail. The time for me to leave is now, and I have to put all of my focus on making my way out.

It’s always so easy to just keep staying. Always another project on the horizon, always the smallest amount of hope left on the line. I am Charlie Brown, and this city is the football in Lucy’s hand. I have to stop forgetting the pattern and walk away.

I can’t trust myself anymore, and I am so fucking afraid I’m about to try to kick that football again. But I swear I won’t do it. I promise myself I won’t try to kick it this time. I have so many bright things waiting for me where I’m going. It feels right. I’m trying so hard to not feel like a failure anymore. A lot of that has been on me and my own work ethic, but I also created a toxic existence for myself and I can’t navigate my way out with all the things that enable me here. I need to be challenged somewhere else, for the greater good of what’s left of my sanity.

People always say you can’t run away from your problems, but sitting in the middle of them doesn’t seem any better.

This is more or less why I’m doing this writing project instead of playing dress up this year. If I could just, not spend money on visuals and get a tight grip around my writing, I think I just might be able to save myself for real this time. And by the end of it, I swear to god, I’m getting the hell out of here. I think this city knew that that needed to happen for as long as I’ve known, but I’ve been trying to make it work because I’m here already.

It’s not you Denver, it’s me. Well actually, I don’t believe in that phrase at all. I think we just don’t have chemistry anymore. Maybe we never did. It’s funny, I never thought I would stay in a failing relationship for so many years. Technically I have been single this whole time, yet I’ve still been sitting in so many failing relationships.

It’s time to move on. These blog entries will serve as the countdown.

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