I mean to write more on this thing more often then I do anymore. Honestly lately I lack the motivation and desire, mostly because I do feel so normal. But I am being a bit of a bum right now getting sidetracked by the computer so I might as well write something right?

Though I know that I am really truly not normal and never will be (I say this with presumptious sarcasm because I know there is really no such thing as normal anyway) I must say I rather like feeling so "normal."

I like that I am stable. I am curious about my "lack of spirituality" but I am glad to not be floating so far off into outerspace and sinking down into the depths of hell as well.
Really I am rather boring any more and yet I am totally ok with that.
The other day I awoke to the slight feeling of darkness that I used to know so well. Then didn't realize how crappy it really was. It was slight and likely due to a few days of not going to bed when I should have and some of the stresses that are not ussual daily stresses.

It was a good reminder.

I visited my parents and the room that my brother died in recently.
It was hard.
It is hard to think about my brother and how he died. In my current mental state I have less comfort about what happened. I forget that I understand how and what can happen so easily. That little shadow of darkness helped me remember.
I know that what if's and I wish I had's accomplish nothing... Uneless you do something that may be able to help someone else suffering somewhere else with or from something similar. For that I really really wish that I could have somehow let my brother know how bad it was and how good it really could be. How some of those feelings and darknesses that we accept as part of who we, are and often attempt to self medicate in so many other ways, really are something else that we really don't have to tolerate or suffer through. I wish he could see, feel and know how much better, happier and so much easier life could be...

... it is sad to know that I can't.
It was heartbreaking to read his diary and see how much he really was suffering. To see the signs that now, knowing what I know, would seem so very obvious.
It had been such a long time that he struggled that he could not seperate it from who he was. Our lack of understanding and acceptance of mental disoders and illness's really did cost him his life in so many ways, more then just the physical end. He was not a depressed person but he did have depression and battled it tenaciously. And his pendulum would swing, whether that was due to a very strong solder who was fighting just depression or if it was something altogether different who really knows but he did fight the lows and he did still find ways to enjoy life and he most certianly had highs. He also had ruminating, possibly obsessive, thought patterns that were very obvious as well. But he tried so hard to be all that he could be and yet in the end he had no idea how bad his own illness/disorder was even though he was aware of it. He had no idea how bad it was becasue he had never come completely out of it. He had not had the opportunity to experience what I am now enjoying. He never got to completely loose touch with that suicidal default and realize how foriegn and strange such a mental state of being really is.

what more can I say?...