log(in)

Well that shit was real. Butt baby and I finally broke up. Nine tumultuous, horrifying, and beautiful years are finally over and I’m back to being my own man. Two months of living with her and feeling her anger and betrayal at the breakup seething beneath the surface at all times was intense. Now I’m living in a cute apartment in my hometown and it’s amazing how much the depression has instantly receded. I felt just in abject misery and stress for so long, knowing deep down what the cause was and why I couldn’t get excited about life. I feel like a fever has broken.

Not drinking and I’m just so fucking depressed it’s intense. I don’t have a way to just sink into relaxation. I thought my brain chemistry would normalize fairly quickly but damn I’m hating it most of the time. I’m angry at myself and all my weird behaviors for alienating so many people throughout my life. I feel so old and isolated. I discovered I had hearing damage and I need glasses. I’ve never felt so unwanted in my whole life. I had no idea life could be so bad and boring. There have been other times in my life when I had very few friends or community but it never felt so permanent before. I just feel like no one will ever like me or want to get to know me ever again. I try to connect with people but nothing really ever results in people trying to connect with me like they did when I was younger. I just feel a sense of rejection that’s never ending. I try to post my opinions about movies and music and stuff on twitter and just no one cares. I just feel like I can’t some up with any kind of creativity that anyone wants or respond to. I just feel like a nothing person. Now I see why people have kids, so your life isn’t just a black hole when you get into middle age. There’s other parents to connect to and kids with energy and ideas. I’ve never felt so out of ideas. I was diagnosed with ADHD and I’m taking the medication and my psychologist and psychiatrist both kind of floated the idea that the amphetamines they give you to treat it help with depression. They really do not though. I just want to escape somehow. To go to Vietnam or Turkey or somewhere and just be truly anonymous and sit in the sun. I don’t know I have various escape fantasies. But I’m obviously still there so… I guess the problem remains. Cara has tried to sell me on taking Iboga or Ayahuasca and I really do want to. It’s so hard to imagine life ever being beautiful or hopeful again. I never thought I’d be so obsessed with cleaning. It’s like one of the only thing that causes me pleasure and it’s endless. People don’t seem to like anything I do creatively which makes me less and less inspired to put any effort into anything until even writing a tweet doesn’t seem worth it. I guess it’s time to admit I should take depression drugs cause fuuuuck this so much.

I really felt like it connected me to people to go to Paris. People on social media were a little jealous but mostly it felt like everyone was rooting for me and living vicariously through me. I’ve made some nice facebook posts sharing my experiences. WHAT I DID I LEARN? – I learned it’s powerful to “go big” with paintings + blow them up to cinematic levels – I got to see Rothko’s kinda sucky earlier paintings and see him slowly develop into his confident style. – I saw how much he became his own obstacle and how conflicted he was about success. He was going to paint for the Four Seasons restaurant an he said he wanted the paintings to make the diners vomit. Very Cobain-esque. – I learned that the french are much better at facilitiating fun little snacks + enjoyable small meals. I also learned that “entree” means “appetizer”, not “main dish”. The word for “main dish” is “plat”. – Most french places have MOSTLY French wines an they organize them by region usually with maybe a small section for another country. – I felt some confidence that I could probably learn French if I had to.

It was so good and humbling to be reminded of yoga and how effective it can be for the ache and tension in my upper back. The yoga class works in around the edges instead of just trying to immediately stretch the tight part and that forced patience is so helpful. Last night I had dinner with the couple I met at the Rothkos: Isabel and Laurent. They fed me a very simple, rustic meal of steamed fish + potatoes in a tomato sauce, and a delicious tapenade laurent made from green olives, capers, and some other stuff. We talked from 7:30 pm to 1am when I finally had to break away to sleep. BUT I’d had coffee there and was up until 4 so I was VERY tired for Yoga. Very sleepy for my last day. The day is still good and I’ll get these last postcars written and sent. Then perhaps tonight my final mission: coq au vin! Note from the future: I didn’t write about this but I want to while I still remember it: I had a fun midday that day after yoga. I went and got a fancy breakfast of baguette and chopped lox and then went to a little wine store to get wine for Laurent and Isabel. There was this tiny cute gay guy running the wine shop and he chatted me up and was holding court with customers in the most adorable way. He had such vivid brown eyes and I really enjoyed flirting with him while he DJ’d and played a bunch of fun french songs I wouldn’t have otherwise heard. It was a fun little party and he really was flirting with me heavily. If I’d stuck around we’d probably have made out lol but I chickened out and also I mean I specifically didn’t negotiate that w Jamie. It was a super fun experience though. Then I was so tired I went and bought flowers and passed out for a few hours in my little boat cabin to rest up for dinner.

…eating and drinking anything I want, recklessly. Wines, champagnes, oysters, scallops, chocolates, espressos. If I were coming in my 20’s I’d have my nose pressed up against the glass this whole time wishing I could afford things so I guess there’s a benefit to coming at 48. Young enough to stay in a boat but old enough to afford 50 espressos. Note from the future: hilariously I made myself sick doing this. I probably shouldn’t have had raw scallop and lukewarm oyster at a fresh fish store. It was delicious but then I got the poops so badly I had to miss my dinner reservation for coq au vin and had to go to a much crappier restaurant on my last night to get a much inferior version but it was still a good last night experience. I walked the streets of paris a little and took photos and it was so very poignant.

… that were wasted because I couldn’t make it. I had plenty of time to go to the later 9pm show which was some sort of dance interpreting the Rothkos. Note from the future: I ended up staying like 8 hours at the rothkos and going to that night’s interpretive dances for free. They were good but not great solo dances but were elevated by the crowd of people sitting on the floor with rapt attention, the good sound engineering, and the elevated feeling of the Rothkos all around us. One dancer I actually recorded on my phone and I think her way of interpreting the rothkos was just not to do a tremendous amount of movement. Also, I talk about it in a later entry but I sat down to drink a beer at the beginning of the reception and connected with this super sweet older couple of a french man and portuguese woman. They invited me to dinner and I in general felt so happy and grateful to connect with people. I’ve felt so rejected by the people in New York and such a weird feeling that I’d completely lost my mojo, so having them feel attracted enough to me to want to invite me over to their house felt so sweet and validating in a way I needed SO badly.

…but sitting on the floor doing it definitely quickly took a toll on my back. Saw the hilton hotel prices where I had my snack were 350-2000 euros an was so glad for my 90 euro little boat room. That leaves me so much more money for provence rose. My poor phone uner heavy use was in critical shape. 34%, the horror! I depend on this little guy as my lifeline! But,m they have little rental chargers at the museum that breathed life into me. It’s amazing how much that helped my relaxation level. I wish I could get ChatGPT / DALL-E to generate fake Rothko images… that would be so baller. I get why they don’t let people do it of course. He was born in 1903. I thought the cutoff year was later (I asked chat gpt… the artist’s “latest work” has to be before 1913.). I tried using chatGPT to describe his work and then use that description but it didn’t even remotely work. I know I’ve described Escher’s work too accurately and had it refuse to make images just on that bases! I’m sure I would get bored quickly but I just wanted to make fake Rothkos for my phone wallpaper goddamnit! It’s so nice to just do this at my own pace. Jamie is such a sweet “pleaser” of a person but for that reason it can be hard for her to understand I need to feel out my own bliss sometimes. It’s such a silly problem to have, but forcing me to decide what I want can really spoil it for me. Sometimes. being able to walk until I’m ready to dro an go where I please is so deeply relaxing. To pick a restaurant based on looks or deeply research. I can be much more solitary than I imagined. The grass over there….how green!

Of course I’m going at the busiest Rothko time! I’m having a pre-museum snack and IPA. It’s pink shrimp (the french always specify because grey shrimp are a totally different, smaller thing) on a bed of grilled avocado and frisee and super finely chopped-up egg. Delicious. So much more flavorful than anything you’d get in the states. The shrimp is not rubbery and has a flavor! In a hotel bar! The average level of quality of food is outstanding. The bar lady spoke decent English and made a point, like many people, to have a little hospitality conversation with me, and I engaged enthusiastically since these kinds of interactions can’t happen easily. She sold me on a nice cognac which reminded me that I just do not like cognac or similar whiskies all that much. I enjoyed drinking it on her recommendation though. She gave her VERY young bar back a sniff as if she were going to be impressed or something, but she most definitely was not. The snack fortified me for Rothkos and I felt good.

The flight was late, long, and loud! I got to the Paris airport already wrecked. Passport lines! Taxi lines! I forgot about French power adapters and had to go to an extramaly fancy mall (La Defense) to fin the french version of Best Buy. When I got back to the room I was utterly destroyed. No Rothkos. No post-rothko dance party. It’s all I could do to make it out for a little dinner (pho) an a Pariesian IPA! Oh la la.

I didn’t quite realize how far it goes on past the tip of Maine. All the way out to the tip of newfoundland. Now I’m finally only one timezone away from Paris. I am wrung out tired and my back is so sore from contorting to read for five hours. But hey, I’ll probably see the Rothkos before I sleep!

…but it is pretty awe inspiring even though its base is under renovation and so it has a very “under construction” feel with shipping containers and things lying around. I woul have paid 30 euros to go up in it but it’s seriously a wack-ass line and I just couldn’t take it. Plus it’s T-1 hours until I see the Rothkos. I feel walking around all day as a 48 year old but it’s still doable and I’m very happy I can do whatever I want. It almost feels selfish to write in a notebook because I have postcars to write and facebook posts to make, stupid tweets about parisiens about how they really do carry around single baguettes, etc. French people seem sweet, haughty, elegant, not-vain, tender hearted, and filled with savoir faire. Paris is much like modern U.S. cities I’ve been to but of course has many beautiful quirks. I would absolutely live here. The little fruit stands everywhere are so beautiful and I love that that’s their version of New York’s ugly bodegas. Everywhere has tiny little outside tables and the Parisian urge to linger is truly amirable. Parisian women do not—on average—tend to wear a lot of makeup, which I found refreshing. I’m glad I came here for a reason and not ust to abstractly gawk, lol. It adds a focal point. Just idly “touristing” would feel pretty stupid and empty. It feels good to have a reason to be here.

I tried to make a little sketch but it’s like nothing you see in the United States. There were miles of farmland, and then hemmed in in a little block would be a whole village of dozens of houses and little shops but no sprawl whatsoever. They were dense little villages that would just completely stop at the edge of the farmland bordering them.

I guess I wasn’t ultimately worried that you’d received more harm than benefit from the dharma.
just rueful how much harm it’d really caused.
and i mean
the harm obviously wasn’t from the dharma
just from humans
who are imperfect
I mean honestly naive people who have to go on and on about how other people are enlightened to butter them up are a big part of the problem

just let a person be a teacher and don’t make them have to be a “manifestation of the buddha”

it does fuck me up personally though. that lama tashi is so frustrating. that norlha was as well. kalu rinpoche says “yo, your lama might have dirty fingernails but he’s still cool, just respect his teachings” but shit… dirty fingernails is a standin for some rough shit about teachers
even now. I love lama tashi. I still maintain the KSOC website
but I can’t like try and be close to him or help him personally or listen to his teachings anymore
I just can’t
and if my real nature is truly unrestricted wisdom then I hope I’ve done enough with the Kagyu teachings to crack a hole in my own stupidity and some seed has taken root because in this life I don’t think I can practice seriously anymore
I straight up don’t believe in a continuum of consciousness
I think when the causes and conditions of Daniel Talsky end I get to just die.
which is 100% against the four thoughts

I feel fairly certain that almost nothing of me will have to worry about the consequences of my actions. I definitely am sorrowful for the hurt I’ve propagated but I feel like karma is extremely diffuse. I’ll be dead. The turtle of me will never surface into the yoke. I just have between one and 40 more years of being kinda feeble before everything I am and everything I ever was is gone forever.
I’m sorry I know this isn’t what you necessarily invited but it just seems like a real discussion worth having. I love you very much. I wish we could find a way to be closer. We both try but we are so very different. I love you so deeply.

I’m a little worried about everyone else having to wander around in samsara forever but not me really. I’m pretty sure I get to die. And as far as I can see the whole universe will just run out of heat. I don’t think there are any ghandarvas or that beings fill all that space fills. It’s an interesting thought but I don’t see ANY evidence of that.

I’m just trying to do the best I can and be as good and have as much fun as I can in my last 0-40 years.
when I’m having blood drawn or in other serious pain I say manis and it does help me and honestly if the dharma gave me nothing else (which of course it did) then that’s more than enough

But hey, not much happened. Live in the same place. Still paint. Still with ladine, we’ve been going to therapy and she’s medicated in a way that actually makes life ok. Mostly just lonely and in mid-life blah, feeling like I have no friends and feeling the beigeness of suburban life. The dog is better and has settled into being a pretty healthy old man although his lip still keeps getting infected.

I feel like I can’t make friends anymore. I used to be able to do it so easily. I don’t know if it’s my lack of confidence or if I’m just old and ugly now. I feel so alone. I have my mom and some old very good friends and I love them. But no one close… it’s like people get to a certain age and the door is just closed. I wish I’d known. People like smalls and the like, I hope they’re happy that they closed the door on the last time I would have a group of friends for the rest of my life. Fuck, it sucks SO bad. I miss being attractive and slightly confident. Life is just so fucking boring and ugly now.

that I’d actually gone to Seattle earlier and been older and had been a weird footnote in Pearl Jam’s history instead of that it just deeply affected my own young adult history. details are already hazy but I think I actually got some kind of minor hit shortly after they broke really big with Once.

they were aware of me and there was some story there I’d been entwined with their life in some way but there was some minor scandal in the past. I remembered the whole thing with great fondness and they were aware of me very tangentially.

I had met some of the people of the time. I knew some of the childhood friends I knew in Rockford at the time but there. I kind of met up with some of the people from that time and talked to them and had some unfinished business and was kind of making headway getting back in that sphere and revisiting my life back then. some crazy stuff that’s really hazy about some ARG or something of the time. (way pre ARG)

anyway, the only punchline is that I went to some function as a part of some semi satisfying conclusion to the whole story that left me with some momento, some greasy old key. and when I walked in the room Jeff Ament saw me and evidently remembered me and my song from back then and immediately was like “fuck no, get this dude out of here” and had evidently had the impression I was a really shady dude and he was the reason I hadn’t been closer to Pearl Jam. he was unrelenting and was like “no one should talk to this dude”.

later I talked to Jeff Aments dad (maybe to try to smooth it over) and he confronted me about some lyrics to my song about having done something difficult to forgive as a child. he was like, “what was that?” and I was like, “uhh shit man it was just a song, it was complicated.” but that was it man Jeff Ament wanted me out so that whole Pearl Jam bridge was burned.

an odd ending to a kind of sweet, semi-unsatisfying, remeniscent dream

I was on one of those ferries they take in upstate new york when they go out boating and golfing. I THINK it exists? Again I was definitely “me”, and was with a group of men I knew not that well but we were friendly and there was camaraderie about learning the ropes of riding the thing. I don’t know the men in real life.

there were famous people on the ferry. I met damon waynes and he did a funny elaborate white person handshake with me when he saw I didn’t really know the black handshake. the old WGA baseball broadcaster (not harey carey the newer guy with the deep voice was there (does he even still live? probably not) (after some googling I think it was actually John Madden or some mix between him and harey carey, I love checking how factual my dream confabulations were)

there were some more kinda medium wealthy guys I was with and talking to. it seemed like we mostly just made the trip up there and back, and it was just to get out in the water in the end. but lots of the people we were with were golf affiliated including a professional golf coach.

I remember him talking in great detail about the business of golf coaching and found its specificity fascinating. he talked about the disadvantages when his main player got injured and how it hurt him more than the player businesswise. he talked about all the equipment and specialized gear he had to obtain for new promising players. then another dude dissed one of his most famous players aloud and I stood up for the player, despite not knowing him because the guy’s diss was kind of a “toxic male culture” diss and I effectively batted the guy’s loud criticism effectively in a way that made the other guys laugh and took my acquaintance off the defensive and I felt proud of that. I was like, “oh yeah, that guy pumped his fist after the stroke, he definitely reads mother earth news”. it was quite a detailed and specific set of complaints he was obviously parroting from a specific sportscaster.

I remember being aware of moderating my drinking and not just allowing myself to drink beer freely but also definitely drinking some beers. a couple of times I noticed (slightly waking up) that drinking the beer in my dream had a similar noticeable central nervous system effect

at the end there’s like a smaller ferry that takes you into the city but if you miss it you have to take the train (again I think this is real and I remember it) and dudes I knew took off without telling me it was the last minute. a guy I was talking to was like oh shit I really needed to make that ferry and I very skillfully ran after it but missed the rope for it by seconds, insuring I’d have to take the train into new york.]

my brain knew I lived in Elgin (as I told people) but didn’t do the math that it was a new york situation (why was I in NY?)

I was left with a sense that it was good and healthy to build and maintain male networks and friendships and I needed that, but that ultimately I wasn’t paying attention and despite an acrobatic performance kinda just barely missed the faster way back home, perhaps left to ride the train and talk to the slower (but it seemed less successful) peer.

I had been planning a wedding (my grandmas?) and I didn’t know how I got there. I was in Butte Rock, Montana I think and it was a beautiful and interesting place. I was so confused. I think at one point I did witness a moment of my grandma’s outdoor wedding.

Early in the dream I was in a cafe and I walked up to this guy and said, “Hey sorry to interrupt, I know this is a little alarming to hear someone ask but where ARE we? Like what town?” and he wasn’t TOO phased and said “Butte Rock, Montana” and I repeated it to make sure.

I was watching this stupid kevin costner show that’s set in montana so that’s probably why montana

I continued to black out and sometimes I seemed to have lucid dreams within the dream, including one where I kept getting annoyed there was this foreign temple but had to admit the way it had a path that went out to the horizon was very picturesque. I walked towards it and I was like, oh, this is the path to death, and chose to walk on it because I was in a lucid dream and it seemed symbolic.

I woke up in several places. Hotels, the street, a business, I had no idea what had happened. I rarely managed to stay conscious for longer than what seemed to be an hour. At first I was more conscious and assumed I would come to. Once I even remember seeing a giant tumbler of whiskey and slugging it down like a shot.

Once I woke up in some kind of flophouse… like a group hotel with a bunch of beds in one room and a bunch of men lounging around talking and laughing. They didn’t look surprised to see me.

I was at a bookstore in a mall at one point and I was trying to tell this couple and see if they could help me get to an ER but the woman spilled a whole giant cup of water on one of those waist high islands with bookshelves all around it and it just got water fucking everywhere on all sides and they got consumed with trying to mop it all up. I tried to help. Then I blacked out again.

I kept thinking I would come to consciousness a little more but instead I got more and more confused and people saw me more and more as a homeless person. I kept blacking out and waking up somewhere else, usually still I think in that Montana town. The city was actually beautiful and interesting and I wandered around several times. I gave up trying to do anything useful or remember any phone numbers. I’d wake up with different phones and different watches and different clothes.

A woman on the street tried to talk to me like she knew me and I could tell she was a junkie. I was worried she’d hurt me in my confused state. I tried to get her to get away from me and she showed me her breasts and they were hollow. I was mean to her and her threat deflated and she said “no one wants to see my boobs.”

I woke up naked at one point and had to hurriedly cobble together clothes from what was on the street.

At one point I didn’t even have clothes and just had a greasy flag wrapped around me.

I went into this dark institutional grade school and asked this little black kid how to get out. He laughed ruefully and said “to prison”.

Towards the end I kept desperately asking people to help me and people would try and distractedly point me to an ER but no one ever got me there. I asked several different people and I would make an attempt to quickly tell my story and get medical attention but no one had time for me.

it felt very much like another life of mine. I was caught while a very young child by a very well organized religious group. i thought I was free to go any time but then very early on I heard them talking about using force to contain someone there and I understood right away that I wasn’t really free to go. (I think this was inspired by watching that documentary about the LDS church offshoot with plural marriage where the leader went to prison for human trafficking and sex with minors.) all the local authorities were involved and even though there were no bars, it was very difficult to leave. mid dream a friend escaped by throwing a small explosive against the fence and simply running… it was implied he managed to escape and I was questioned in a really intimidating way about the circumstances of his escape. i befriended some locals who volunteered and we were slowly making a more involved escape plan cloaked in some kind of legitimate travel. when people in the group traveled, you would actually be locked into some kind of belt/box thing that made it clear you were with the group and didn’t have much money.

it felt so possible, and I saw how a person could be easily “soft enslaved” this way. it wasn’t such a horrible life. they ate good simple meals and the work was not horrible, but they controlled all thoughts. I remember them training people who were preparing to work with the group closer to the public and they trained a very controlled kind of self-sufficiency.

I woke up feeling very trapped, and feeling certain I’m not in my own relationship by choice. ladycakes has made it clear that she wouldn’t be cool if I wanted to end the relationship and I know she could make it very difficult. she’s upset that I’m not committing but I’m increasingly unhappy with our life together. it has a lot of comforts but I’m increasingly feeling like somehow I’m going to be the one supporting her. she has the love of my family and she is pretty loving but the way she reacted at me going on my seattle vacation really alarmed me deeply. I always felt like it was ok for her to be disabled as long as she was content with me living a more expansive life. that made it feel like she doesn’t and I feel honestly controlled by her, the car, and all the trappings of life we have. I don’t feel like I can do what I want. I feel like she behaved for a moment there but managed to get back on oxycodone and valium and now I have kind of a checked-out girlfriend. I don’t know what, but I feel like there has to be a better and more freer life out there for me somewhere.

I don’t feel comfortable committing further to her and she can feel that and there’s an uneasy spirit. she’s accused me of “only staying with her because of her cancer”. there definitely were some times I wanted to leave but didn’t want to be the dude who left his girlfriend while she had cancer. I don’t know what I want for my life and can’t envision it, but I don’t feel like I’m being my fullest self. are we always kind of trapped in some situation or tied to someone? it just feels like I’m giving a lot more than I’m getting and she’s never really going to be able to evolve into a partner. it sucks because she has the excuse of covid but I had covid too and she just drugged herself into unconciousness and I had to take care of everything.

I have to outward appearances a very good life, and I know jamie loves me, but her love doesn’t exactly feel like a choice given completely of free will. it feels a bit like golden handcuffs. she seems like she knows on some level it’s not the best deal for me. it’s a time of peace in my life compared to much of the tumult I’ve been through so it seems like maybe it would be the best choice for me outwardly. she’s good to my family so they all basically accept her and none of them would counsel me to leave her. I appreciate her embrace of my family so deeply and don’t want to abandon her but I feel somewhat relentlessly trapped. I already feel so committed and I know the need to commit even more deeply and practically is coming soon. at this moment I feel like I don’t want it. it doesn’t feel like me. it doesn’t feel fulfilling. I could go read poetry and make friends but I know the 3rd degree would begin about any friendship and its potential sexuality. jamie is accepting of certain closenesses if she considers them safe.

I guess a lot of this is normal in a committed relationship but it honestly ultimately feels controlling. she feels like she’s sliding towards being more dependent on me and less capable as time goes by in some way. I feel like at some point I’m just going to end up saddled with all responsibility and I will be well and truly enslaved by her. we definitely have our moments of joy and contentment but I’ve always felt a restlessness to grow in life, and seeing her go back on oxy and valium feels like such a dark step. she fought so hard not to admit in treatment that there was a drug component to her mental health. I don’t want to be the sole responsible person with someone who feels entitled to act like a toddler. I feel caught in a web of her excuses and promises. when she surfaces to a sense of responsibility it feels like an attempt to pacify my. she’ll say “hey what can I take off your hands” but anything I hand her I have to train her and remind her. she said she took the laundry and the cat litter but I definitely still have to direct and participate in those processes, it’s not just “taken care of” the way I’m expected to take care of things.

I don’t want this expectation on me. I don’t want an obligation. I don’t want a dependent. I don’t see things changing. I’ve watched closely, I’ve stopped shouting at her in frustration. I know I’m an adult and I can simply end a relationship but now we have all this stuff together. at least I have all the bills in my name and have financial control in a lot of ways but I also have all the bills in my name and that keeps me without a lot of free cash flow. I’m always paying bills ahead of time and she’s kinda lax in paying. she’s sleeping 100% of the time and then she’s going to go back to work. I feel like i need to make up for her missed birthday but I just don’t want to feel obligated to her.

some of this has got to be lack of enforcing boundaries on my part but I’m tired of needing to so consciously enforce boundaries, I feel like it’s forever pressing against me and I’m slipping under the waves a bit.

I’ve actually really enjoyed this covid time in some way, just playing my favorite video game and not feeling pressured to spend time with her. it’s nice that she wants to spend time with me and enforces that but she doesn’t seem to feel a lot of pressure to help us have a good time or even stay awake, just wants my comforting presence so she doesn’t feel lonely. she can’t watch anything except what she wants to watch or she’ll just fall asleep. lots of times I just watch whatever she wants to watch and then she’ll lose consciousness quickly and I can do whatever I want. I guess this is like a lot of relationships? I literally don’t know what you should realistically be able to expect in terms of inspiration and psychic partnership. I know if I weren’t with her I would miss some aspects of our relationship deeply. she definitely keeps me out of trouble and in abundant sex and has trained me to be less trouble sexually in people’s lives. I’m grateful for that and grateful for the steadfastness of our life. I feel like I’d be humiliating her to break up with her and leaving her very alone in the world. she would in no way be excited by the possibility of her own life, I know this, but I definitely am.

I’m only talking here because I feel like I have no one else to say this to. I feel so out-of-love with my lady, and so tired of all of her various bullshit. I’m just completely suppressing my emotions because I feel like I have nothing left to say to her. Everything she does and says irritates me so much and I don’t feel like I can rely on her to follow through on anything she says. She’s going for a little vacation in a week and I am honestly so glad and wish it was today. I can’t believe I have to get through an easter w her. It feels fucking impossible.

I’ve been painting which is pretty cool. It’s a good time of life. I feel like I’ve clawed a comfortable little place to try and heal a little.

One of the central struggles in my life right now is my full time job. It’s a good job. Everyone, including my boss, is very decent to me. I’m extremely well paid and I appreciate it. I even believe in what the company is doing. However, I have a massive problem with procrastination. It’s a constant psychological struggle for me to engage with the primary thing I’m supposed to be doing. I’m a programmer, and solving technical problems is my main job. Somehow I have a kind of whole-being resistance to engaging with it. I don’t want to be doing it. I don’t want to be working. I work from home and there are a million things I have to distract me. It’s an incredibly painful experience, and I can tell I’m slowly abusing the patience of my coworkers, but somehow when I’m actually during work hours I can somehow delude myself into thinking it’s ok to waste time and I’ll somehow be able to make it up. It’s dragging me down, but somehow minute-to-minute nothing is more painful than actually facing the work and doing it. I can look at the code 20 times in a row and my mind just goes NOPE and bounces right off it. Or, I’ll work for about 10 minutes and hit the smallest challenge or inconvenience and think THAT’S GOOD. I don’t know how to get out of this and it feels never ending and painful. I wish I could just quit my job and live without it but the ladycakes has such expensive tastes and we have an expensive apartment and I just need it to keep things rolling. It’s making me upset every day of my life, and it’s making me dread Monday all weekend every weekend. I’m working with it in therapy, but we only talk once a week and by that time I’ve died the coward’s death 7 more days. WTF can I do?!

Our older dog is having health problems. His back is messed up and he currently can’t move his front right leg and his eye is drooping. It’s driving me crazy feeling so helpless when my best little friend is hurt and I don’t know what I can do. He’s going to the vet right now and it just tears me up. I don’t care about anything.

I moved back to near my hometown and brought my girlfriend. I’m still struggling with depression but really have a damn nice situation here. We have a lush apartment and I have time to find ways to heal.