Today is the first day of my 53rd Year. Today is the day I stop taking any more bullshit from anyone, including myself. I’m asking a lot of myself here. One year of consistency. That’s the mantra for this year. Consistency now, or never.
I must acknowledge why I’m having trouble, address it, and get moving.
Let’s see if we can just manage this small blog posting first. We’ll call it my personal journal. Why not, that’s what a blog was in the beginning, wasn’t it? Hell, I think I know at least one person still on LiveJournal doing things, or at least one that isn’t a very tardy novelist.
When is the Winds of Winter coming out, by the way?
The point of all of this is simple: I’ve spent six months feeling pitiful and I’d like to not do that anymore, please. That should start with writing at least one thing a day, even if it’s just one sentence.
• As we begin another week, I want to note what happened last week. While the craziness was going on, my wife was in the hospital, and it wasn’t a good thing for the first couple of days. Thankfully she turned a corner, and we returned home on Sat. So, she is fine, and WE are fine.
But, on the other hand, I am not OK, and I’m not anywhere near fine. I haven’t been fine for a long time, and I’m surprised that I even have the self-awareness to recognize it. What I can’t do, haven’t been able to do, is define the problem. I can tell you that not a lot matters to me right now. I’ve just become indifferent to just about everything. My default response lately is a shrug and some Meh. I don’t want to be around people, haven’t wanted to be around people for a while. I’m getting sick of social media, I’ve almost deleted all my accounts 3 or 4 times in as many months. I basically feel like disappearing, I feel like no one would care much if I did, and I might just be ok with that. To be clear, I’m not having thoughts of self-harm. Not talking about unaliving. I’m talking about checking out from the world and being alone.
I’m exhausted. I’ve had so much on my plate for so long it’s finally gotten to me. One of my ex-girlfriends from the Mesozoic Era that still keeps in contact with me every now and then tells me that I’m on the verge of a breakthrough. Doesn’t seem that way. A breakDOWN on the other hand, I’ll buy that. Of course, I probably can’t be having a breakdown if I’m thinking I’m having a breakdown. I don’t think that’s how it works. I’ve said on occasion that I think I need to see a therapist, the trick is finding the time to see a therapist. That’s funny. I know this, every tool I’ve learned to use since my moment of clarity in Sept 2005 isn’t working. I think I need help.
• I heard someone ask another person if knowledge and belief had a divorce inside them, and that has got to be the politest of burns. I must remember that one.
• Congress is back in session today to begin their ‘lame-duck’ session. I encourage you to watch the proceedings on C-SPAN and stop letting other people tell you about it. See it for yourself. As we get closer to the end of the Continuing Resolution to fund the Government on December 16th, start taking note of the things the parties say. They’re going to complain about being held up in DC when they could be home for the Holidays, just like they’ve said for every fucking year they kick the can down the road and put themselves in this position. This is the beginning of an education on how the playbook only changes colors every few years, but everything else is the same. Watch what happens in the House if the GOP take the House. The Dems will start using all the complaints and parliamentary tricks the GOP used. They also won’t actually solve anything definitively. Ever. This should make you mad.
• On a related note, the pleas for bipartisanship will last about a week until the President says or does something they can interpret as not really meaning it. Just like they do at the beginning of every Congress as long as I can remember. Really. This bullshit rarely changes, and that should outrage you. I promise you, if people actually watched Congress do it’s job, they would demand better Reps and Senators. Also, younger. Grassley is 89 years old. He voted with a feather and a fucking inkwell when he started. I’m begging y’all. Start paying attention to first degree sources, and stop giving the outrage machine, the angertainment, the infotainment…the NOOZ your time.
I’ll leave you with a photo Kimmers took of a minor victory. Oreo is very clearly Kim’s cat, but she’s starting to trust me. I think some guy abused her and abandoned her, and that’s why she lives here now. This was a pleasant surprise.