All the Nightmares Came Today...

I am beginning to feel the Dooms.

Now I assume some of you may not know what "the Dooms" are, so, allow me to inform you-

THE DOOMS (n.): An increased level of sensitivity, resulting in, but not limited to; general discomfort, joint pain, headaches, dry mouth, and mild to extreme paranoia and/or depression. Often brought on by substance abuse, but also can be found with links to hunger, homesickness, lack of sleep, and in extreme cases of boredom.

For example:
"Ayyyyy What up man? You look pale as Ashy Larry!"
"I know man, I think there was something in that weed.. I feel like I'm dying. What time is it?"
"Ah. Hahaha. Don't worry too much young blood, thats just the Dooms."

I think everyone has the Dooms every now and again, but the case I'm slipping into now is bad. I mean, I'm gonna go as far as to say medical journal bad.
Now, I've been known to be a bit emotional, extreme, perhaps a touch sensitive if you will. And, oddly, I've also been labeled as cold, insencere, or distant amoung other circles. But, be that as it may, the true problem is not how others perceive my condition, but avas, my true problem is this condition, the aforementioned Dooms. (You like that don't you? Dooms. DOOMS. Bold typeface adds so much weight. ) Even more of a problem is my inabillity to ""shake" this case of the Dooms, and I feel them creeping over my person slowly and in an almost calculated manner.

I am not hungry, ever. I am constantly thirsty, but all the water I drink, tap or bottled, tastes like it has got blood in it. My bones ache. My eyes hurt. I cannot remember the last time I inhaled through my left nostril without the entire room knowing. My dreams are horrible. The worst however is the feeling in the deep deep pit of my stomach, and no Mom, its not hunger. Its the feeling of peril, of something horrible coming without any way to stop or combat its wrath. It is Doom.

Now, sure, this all makes sense. I'm in a different country away from my friends, my family, my love. It is to be expected that this would happen at some point. However, I cannot accept that answer, simplistic and good as it may be, I cannot brush this off as mere homesickness. Its too tangible, palpable, too constant to be labeled as simple longing. However longing does nicely describe the mental state I am in, but to another conundrum we arrive, I am longing with nothing longed for. Its as I were a rich man, that knew nothing but to beg and idlely worry over his pocket change. It is, for lack of a better term, annoying.
I am almost forcing myself to type now, as I've noticed how much oil from peoples skin must be accumulated on this keyboard in the library of the University of Groningen. It is making me feel ill to think of the grime that lays about on every surface we touch. I need to wash my hands. I need to wash my face. I need to drink liters and liters of cold fresh water. But I have. And it has been to no avail.
So, I guess, I must press on. Press on through what I hoped would be a break. A vacation from all the stress and mental discomfort I feel in the States, everyday. I'm starting to realize its not about the place..

Its not all bad though. My writing is getting "deeper". I'm reading alot more, which doesnt say much as I rarely read at all back home. I finished Hamlet in under an hour this morning. I'm meeting people, I'm making friends, connections. My classes are enjoyable, however stressful with this whole not-knowing-whats-going-on thing. I get to do what I want, when I want. But thats not nearly as fun as it sounds, its much less interesting, less rewarding. Not to make too light of my Dooms, but, I feel I must assure you, my reader, that I am in no way "out of control" of my mental state, nor am I "clinically depressed". I am simply fustrated, being a man of Twenty years old is not as care free as it sounds. Or perhaps I just have a bad case of the "Mondays". So bare with me, because if there is one thing I know about things, its that they can always change.