Monday, August 31, 2015

A Year and...What?

One year ago today, I got drunk on tequila, slashed my right forearm with a scissors, and announced I was quitting this blog.

Whatever.
The very next day, I woke up suffering from shingles. It defined my life for the next five months. Here's my advice about shingles: Don't get it. Seriously.

Wouldn't wish shingles on my worst enemy,
honest to God.
One year later, I would say I'm 98% over shingles. I still have random, unexplained facial itching. I still experience random puffiness in my eyes and face. And I'm still terrified that it will return, full-blown and announced, at any time.

But here's what bothers me even more.

A year ago, I was drinking way too much. My marriage was over yet still in limbo. My job was frustrating. I was in love with someone but nowhere near being in a real relationship. 

I came down with, and ultimately overcame, shingles during this period. But today, exactly one year later, I am still drinking way too much. My marriage is still over yet in limbo. My job continues to frustrate me. And I'm still in love with someone but nowhere near being in a real relationship.

So my question is:

What's to keep me from slashing my arm again?

What's to keep me from waking up tomorrow in terrible pain?

Why should I believe that anything changes for the better, ever?

Fuck that, or am I wrong?
I don't plan to slash my arm open tonight, so there's that. But not much else is significantly improved. Some things are even worse. This past weekend, I finally decided to cut ties with my emotionally abusive father. I'm too goddamned old to put up with being screamed at. Fuck that. No more father in my life.

In the hottest real estate market in a decade, I'm having massive difficulties selling my house. I could blame it on my almost-ex spouse, who made it a point to never have enough money to maintain our home. But there's no point in that. Blame sucks.

I just want to be happy. And I want you to be happy. I don't want anyone to have shingles, or to be stuck in a relationship that means nothing and goes nowhere.

I do want to thank every single person who has stuck with me over the last year. You've made everything worthwhile, I swear to glob.

I hope to actually write something meaningful this year. It's all for you.

And I hope we are all well and happy. Because we all freaking deserve it.

Love you.

No blood.



Friday, August 28, 2015

Giving Up on My Fear

Does anyone want a fear?

I'm getting rid of mine.


I named him George. But I do not love him or squeeze him.

If you're wondering what he does, that's pretty much it. He sits there and makes dumb, hopeless faces at me.

It's not a terrible thing to have a fear hanging around, except that this one is very large. I guess it's hard to tell from the picture, so here's some perspective.


As you can see, he is approximately four Godzillas tall. So actually quite enormous. Cumbersome, even.

That's just more fear than I want to deal with. George constantly gets in my way. He keeps me from doing cool things because it's such a bother to lug him around with me. So we tend to do what the fear wants most days. Whoopee, another day of sitting around like a big sad blob.

I've heard that not all fears are as big as George, and that the smaller ones are much more manageable and even useful. Kind of like a wingman.


It seems I've been feeding my fear to excess. He's gotten way too big to be helpful. He's no good to me any more.

So George has to go.

I don't realistically think I can find a new home for him. Why would anyone want a fear this size? Especially if you already have one or more of your own. I wouldn't wish so much fear on anyone.

But you know what? I know this may sound heartless, but it's not my problem. George can take care of himself. Fears are surprisingly hardy. They thrive in adverse circumstances. If you've ever tried to control a fear, you know how strong they can be.


They'll crush you if you let them.

So long, George. You've overstayed your welcome. I'm moving, and I'm not giving you my new address.

I'm looking forward to living fearlessly for once.