Pretty sure that was a 5th Doctor, Doctor Tristan, episode.
I am feeling unwell. I have been getting the chills all afternoon. At the same time,. I feel like I god a low grade fever burning.
Is this the hot and cold fever? I always assumed that would be more dramatic.
Hopefully, getting dressed and getting some food into me will help. Of course, my appetite is also shot, but I am not going to let that stop me./
Luckily, I am pissed off enough about being sick on a Sunday, with Denny’s coming up, that I have the determination it takes to force myself to eat.
Fuck how my precious little tummy feels. I NEED NUTRITION.
Besides, I am tired of being such a goddamned pussy. It’s so irrational. Time and time again I increase my total pain and suffering with my unwillingness and/or inability to just grit my teeth, accept that this is gonna suck, and endure the relatively minor amount of pain or fear or whatever it takes to get important things done.
It’s a cowardly and pathetic way to live, and I am god damned sick of it.
Time to bite the bullet and become a harder man, because continuing to be a big wimpy marshmallow will only lead to greater pain and suffering.
I don’t want to be a harder man because I get the feeling it might make me a lot harder to get along with. I can’t seem to dream up a harder version of myself that isn’t also angrier, more impatient, and way too sarcastic.
Maybe that’s just an illusion spun by my depression. A paper demon guarding the exit and scaring me off with visions of me turning into my father.
Well I am not my father. And I can tap into that energy currently wrapped up in latent anger without exploding all over the damned place.
Or at least, I won’t explode for long.
I guess this is part of the development I should have had as a teen. Learning to tame the raving lunatic, the creature of stark raving id, in the male brain.
It’s not enough to merely suppress it. That’s an idiot solution akin to junking your entire car because the engine is making a funny noise.
And suppression is not without cost. Quite the opposite, in fact. Emotional suppression is only meant to delay troubling emotions until the time in the very near future when we can unpack those emotions and deal with them.
But we don’t do that. We keep making the minimum deposit on that debt as compound interest kicks in and the debt just keeps piling up.
And that means keeping those emotions suppressed costs more and more of our mental resources over time. And of course, we keep piling up more and more.
It’s a rotten way to live, and I am going to find some way to exit it.
Even if that means I get even crazier for a while.
And kind of hard to live with. I guess.
There are worse things to be than a bit crabby.
More after the break.
I’m not there
Unsurprisingly, I did not make it to Denny’s tonight.
I am just too ill. The very thought of going out on a cold December evening makes me blanche like I was driving past a horrible car crash and unable to keep my ghoulisj self from gazing into the wreck and trying to figure out what happened.
My mind has been permanently warped by an overexposure to forensics.
I just have to try to figure things out, even when I know that’s a very bad idea and will only lead to more heartbreak and trauma.
But I just have to know, Mother. I know the smart thing would be to roll up the windows, ignore absolutely everything, and go on with my life.
But then I wouldn’t know what had happened. What, am I supposed to take some journalist’s interpretation of what went down?
Oh no no NO. I make my own goddamned decisions on absolutely everything because mine is the only opinion I can verify logically.
I know there is probably something very wrong with that catastrophoc a lack of trust i the very fabric of the universe, but it’s what I am stuck with.
I have a lot of positions and beliefs that, if I was doing it all over again,. I wo0uld not adopt at all.
I would be far more cautious. and prudent. I can’t guarantee that this will make things a whole lot better, but I’d like to give it a try.
At least it would make things different, And a change is as good as a rest, sometimes.
I dunno, though., Maybe I am not meant to be careful and cautious and prudent. Maybe, as unlikely as it seems, I would be better off dashing heedlessly into danger and dealing with whatever madness that brings,
That sounds every kind of wrong from the point of view of my usual careful and cautious self, but then again, what do I know?
Being a slave to caution and prudence has not helped me so far. All it’s done is hold me hostage to weakness and cowardice and trapped me in this deathly doldrums and kept me for every goddamned heartbeat that should not be.
Because I should not be. I am a mistake that I can’t correct without ending my mistaken existence, and well…
Not yet, Jesus. Not yet. I have too much stuff to do.B
But I won’t take away the option to finally end this pathetic existence Because if I thought there was no way out, I would truly want to kill myself.
Knowing I can end it whenever I please keeps me from doing it.
And hopefully I will simply accept the conclusions my late night mind arriva at.
No point in constantly fighting yourself. It’s a waste of protein.
I want to be in harmony with myself. But I have too many tempests in my teapots for me to gave the easy live I crave.
I need to calm the fuck down.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.