you know how you come up with the perfect response entirely too late for it to be useful? well i did it again…. annoying, really.
to the person who wrote to me saying, ‘the things you write about me in that place make me sick’ — no less sick than the things you’ve said about me make me feel, you hypocritical bastard. but at least i’m wrapping them in fiction and allegory and metaphor, where as you are presenting them to others as being truths.
yeah. i feel much better now.
i’m noting the curious visits to the blog of late. people who never bothered to visit or even ask before are suddenly showing up. yes, i do know who is who. most who visit here are known/invited and strangers generally arrive in specific ways and depart in much the same.
i suppose i watch the logs because i’m always bemused by the fact that people will read here, but not use that convenient ‘connect’ link above to actually reach out to me.
most of you have my email or even my phone number. some of you think you’re not noticed. some of you display a rather odd sickness in continuing to be here. reasons vary, i suppose. consider me shrugging lightly.
whiplash topic change warning….
someone reminded me today that history doesn’t exist. i keep forgetting but i’m not sure why. i suppose the recent history isn’t exactly memorable… but i do continue to remember and parse it. so what does that say?
i’ve been thinking about decidedly strange things lately. i think it’s anxiety. possibly depression. maybe both. i’m not sleeping well and i forget to eat. i have bizarre dreams that slip away before i can document them and weird hypnogogic states that impede sleep or waking so most often i just force myself to stay awake until i can pass out and safely bypass that uncomfortable place.
i do realize it’s just making things worse to do that. what ‘the problem’ is will not go away by ignoring it. if anything, it just heightens the anxiety which in turn makes it all tighten and spin faster. vicious circle, really.
i think the birthday is part of it. older. still alone. still struggling. still feeling generally apart. just can’t seem to really manage the change into anything better on the long term. can’t quite get far enough ahead and every time i count on anything at all, i just get reminded that i can count on nothing at all.
actually, that’s not quite true. i can count on mom and dad. but it’s funny in a sad way… i actually had to think a moment before i realized i wasn’t including myself in the list.
it’s been seven years since it all fell apart… and the simple fact is, i still cannot find the way to feel like i can count on myself anymore.
i guess in the analogy of the carrots, egg, and coffee, i’d be carrots right now. kind of run out of fiber, a bit deflated.
despairing, actually.
time to shut up, i suppose.