I don’t feel so upbeat anymore. It doesn’t feel chemical, it feels more environmental. I have a lot on my mind right now.
Allison in puberty…puberty or a miniature version of me? I’m trying not to be ultra sensitive to her mood swings. Crying, fits of anger. It feels all too familiar and it is wearing on me. How should I handle it?
Dying friend, do I really have to say more? Sending a funny card once a week feels lame.
John’s got some health problems. Threats and self help strategies just don’t seem to be making a dent.
In the old days I would freak out for a few days, contemplate for another few and then act without any thought. I would get it done. These days I am so “normal” that I’m drowning in a whirlpool of practicality and cowardice. What the “old” me would do would have been brave and brilliant. Now I am a dud, dead in the water… a wet blanket. Feeling betrayed by my life in a different way.
I must knock myself free of the drug addled normalcy I am living. This just doesn’t get any easier does it?