Sadness

Several things have made me sad recently. I did not mean this blog to be a place to bitch about how life can be so intrinsically testing.

That being said, I will say that whatever triggers my anxiety is just plain unwanted. I am sick of my manager. my gf, who plays on my sadness like no other, and just the multitides of meaningless lives that jostle and crowd like so much cattle.

I'm content to stay here in the rural wasteland. Why do I call it that? Take a look at the dead and decomposing deer out by the highway or the clear cutting of the trees and places houses used to be.

Sure, it is far away from my job or just going to the store, and the net speeds out here would lose a race with a snail but it is where I have lived for the better part of 9 years.

Freaking cold and gray weather combined with the usual holiday depression make it hard just to enjoy oneself.

The days become a blur after a while. I am in a meaningless job that serves on purpose but to answer stupid questions and waste time.

But I recognize the value of having a job. I was without one from 2003 to 2006.

We shall not have a repeat of that, I hope. My anxiety developed in that time.

Part of Arthelius's story had a lot to do with the decay of emotion caused by the betrayal by a girl. It weighs some time on his spectral mind. And if that was a portent of someting in actuality, I would much rather be a ghost like him.

Losing More than Hope

Ew, more melancholy to stain my new blog.

Really, though, I do not like even going to the doctor. I costs too much and I end up with worse than the normal anxiety. Having a digital rectal exam changed the way I look at going to the doctor. Mine is an older, very experienced doctor in a small town. He is more methodical than caring and I never once felt comfortable in his presence. He works in what can be described as a country clinic, a deceptively nice place full of apathetic women, a few caring nurses, and doctors who have been around longer than I've been alive, and that is 32 years.

My insurance, deceptively good BCBS, doesn't cover some things that should be basic. I mean, most of the time, the doc just asks questions, takes my temp and bp, and writes a prescription. Is throwing medicine at the problem the only way to treat it?

I don't know. I mean, I just don't care. My job is like a week in hell every week. The head manager of our side of the store is a demoness in a pretty skin. There is no care, it's apathy, maybe even malavolence there.

I almost committed suicide last year. Every day, I am growing to wish that I did. However, it was the Paxil that gave me the nerve to do it and I no longer take that awful med. I am a sorry excuse for a human male.

Contest this if you like.

My examples are, I do not have children. I spend my free time with my mind somewhere else, either writing or playing old Playstation games on this aging ps2. I don't go out unless it is to go to the store and even then, I like wearing purple sometimes and I don't like people to see me in that lest they think I am 'queer'. I am not. I have a girlfriend, but my relationship with her is a study of how NOT to conduct a relationship.

I won't blame Jen for that. It is my fault for not being clear with her. I don't want to hurt her feelings.

Maybe I will be a ghost when I am gone. For now, it is only online, sadly.