Some Things
There is something I need to write about. Actually it's more than one something. It might be a half a dozen. I'm not sure. I guess that's the problem. I'm unfocused and it's all blurring together. One something led to another and then to another. To write about one almost means I have to write about all. And I can't. Not now, maybe not ever.
Drink more, find clarity? I spent several weeks living that one. Sure, I sampled a few really good rums and had just one raging hangover, but I can't say drinking solved anything. Fortunately, I wrote little and texted even less that I regretted the next day. Given my no-delete policy that could have gotten a bit dicey.
Ok, so here's the thing - I'm mired in privacy issues. I can't talk. Which means I can't write. I can't. And really would I even if I could? I'm trying to find a way to be cryptic yet clear and I'm coming up empty. On all fronts. And I have...let's see...at least two. I feel like there are three, but I can't think of the third at the moment.
Today was a confusing mix of emotions. I felt at times victorious, defeated, sad, happy, lonely (though not for who most might think), confident, murky, doubtful, smart, stupid, loved, hated, liked, disliked, feared, celebrated. And yes, I've been taking the Anti-Everything Pills religiously. I can't imagine what condition I'd be in if I'd skipped a couple doses.
I wish I knew how to write what I need to write. They say I'm a good writer, never at a loss for words. Yet...here I am. Lost. For words. Among other things.
And drinking. This can't end well. I'm about thirty seconds from a drinking (though tomorrow I will steadfastly maintain that I was DRUNK at the time I sent it) text. And blathering on. It might be time to cut my losses and hang it up. The phone and the blog for tonight. I have counseling early and tennis a little later. I should be asleep.
Some things aren't meant to be discussed, no matter how much we need to discuss them. I hate that.
Drink more, find clarity? I spent several weeks living that one. Sure, I sampled a few really good rums and had just one raging hangover, but I can't say drinking solved anything. Fortunately, I wrote little and texted even less that I regretted the next day. Given my no-delete policy that could have gotten a bit dicey.
Ok, so here's the thing - I'm mired in privacy issues. I can't talk. Which means I can't write. I can't. And really would I even if I could? I'm trying to find a way to be cryptic yet clear and I'm coming up empty. On all fronts. And I have...let's see...at least two. I feel like there are three, but I can't think of the third at the moment.
Today was a confusing mix of emotions. I felt at times victorious, defeated, sad, happy, lonely (though not for who most might think), confident, murky, doubtful, smart, stupid, loved, hated, liked, disliked, feared, celebrated. And yes, I've been taking the Anti-Everything Pills religiously. I can't imagine what condition I'd be in if I'd skipped a couple doses.
I wish I knew how to write what I need to write. They say I'm a good writer, never at a loss for words. Yet...here I am. Lost. For words. Among other things.
And drinking. This can't end well. I'm about thirty seconds from a drinking (though tomorrow I will steadfastly maintain that I was DRUNK at the time I sent it) text. And blathering on. It might be time to cut my losses and hang it up. The phone and the blog for tonight. I have counseling early and tennis a little later. I should be asleep.
Some things aren't meant to be discussed, no matter how much we need to discuss them. I hate that.
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