There went my weekend. I work Thursday through Monday. I spent it helping my youngest prepare for a job interview. When I was their age I was on my 3rd job that I went out and got on my own. I know the times have changed, but it's not just about that. It's about drive and motivation and desire. This kid doesn't seem to want to do anything other than play video games and code web based gaming stuff. I don't get it. Seemingly zero desire for anything beyond that. As someone who loves computers and internet culture and video games, it's even much for me to understand. At any rate, my two days off basically just vanished. So my days of relaxation were spent working with them towards the job thing and my own regular old ass living shit. I did sleep more than normal, though. I watch out for that, that's a big indication for me that I'm slipping again.

I'm never not depressed, but the increased sleeping is always kind of a warning sign - and in the past has been a precursor to - real deep real low slumps. Those valleys you just can't climb out of on your own. Extended vacations in wastelands type shit. So now I'm hyper aware of my thoughts and feelings and simultaneously drinking the beers and poking the smot trying not to be. I am not good at feeling things. I have a lot of things to not feel good about and it feels better not feeling them. I'm not sure how long it's been since I've gone a day without a drink in my aim to not feel. Probably when I traveled for work about a year and a half ago, and that was only two days and one night. That's nothing even to remark about, truthfully. It works for me, though. When I have a mid-day work schedule and an atypical work week, in terms of which days I work, it really is the most effective self-medication. I don't stay up too late but still get to stay up late, I don't oversleep because I don't have to be up too ridiculously early, and my days off are ones where I can take care of real life shit - and drink and day-drink and sleep a lot without anyone really knowing because they're too busy in their Monday-Friday 9-5 grind.

My ex tried to contact me almost 2 weeks ago and I haven't been sure how to feel about it in the time since. They are a horrible human, truly, but at almost no fault of their own. Literally. There is major mental health stuff going on - schizophrenia and borderline personality disorder as cherries atop a really shitty mixed bag mental health diagnosis sundae - in addition to a bloodline long addiction tendency and unbelievable parental neglect, abanadonment stuff, rape, abuse, and life as a juvenile spent almost entirely in some sort of foster home scenario, group home, or treatment facility. To be clear, I don't feel bad for them as far as not getting to enjoy life with me and/or the kids. They have contributed, in large portions, to an unbelievably difficult time as a single parent raising two young children to adulthood, all the while fighting off some bullshit or another that they created or some mess they left behind that I'm somehow tied to. Reposessed cars, bank account closures, collection agencies, you name it. But I'm pretty certain they're the only person not related to me by blood to actually love me and who I actually loved. That, alone, is some fucked up stuff. Add it to all the difficulties I had as a single parent. Throw in a big portion of me being terribly lonely.

Obviously I know it is not a good idea. To respond. To engage. Anything. If the last quarter of a century has taught me anything, it is to stay as far away from them as possible. Nothing but bullshit and troubles and heartache come with them or are left in their wake. But gotdamn, I am lonely and more than a little drunk. We got each other and we were funny for and to and with each other. We almost had our own language. Ultimately, they were more sexual than I was (and still am) and I guess some people just can't reject those desires if they are not fulfilled. Unfortunate thing is, I would have done almost anyting to make things work. Dick them down myself even if I wasn't feeling it and put on the most believable performance ever while doing it. Given head every morning and every night - they loved it, I loved doing it, I've always kind of had an affinity for it anyhow. Entertained the idea of another pertner in bed or otherwise, which I have not and ever would consider for anyone else I've been involved with before or since. There was something to our relationshp.

And the dreams before and the dreams since? I'm not a terribly religious man and I don't so-much subscribe to the notion of signs and shit like that, but the timing and themes from the dreams. Ugh.

But, no.

I stumbled onto Neocities a few months ago and began just randomly checking out websites here. Just a couple weeks ago I decided I was gonna jump into the Neocities community. I can tell, already, what a benefit this is for me. Working on the website itself is a fun pasttime I am reminded that I have missed. Working through my personal trauma and baggage and daily life via the blog has already proven to be beneficial. I am still purposefully remaining anonymous, but it is interesting how much personal shit I am casual about sharing. Anonymity, perceived or real, is kind of liberating.

Man. I become more intimately and painfully aware of what kind of a human I am in relation to other humans every single day. I'm not saying I'm a better variety, I'm just saying I'm not a normal middle of the road common version. I don't understand the headlines and hot topics 9 times out of 10. I have no "normal" ground to stand on with the average person my age. Even the more fringe dwelling people I know in my circle and age range are more middle of the road than I am. Weather and traffic and insurance benefits are all topics I care very little about.

As a full time single parent of two children, I just never quite got there. A single income will hinder most things from happening, to be honest. When you can't mainatin a place of employment for very long because you keep missing work for something going on with one of your two children, god forbid, and you keep going to work while vomiting and having borderline migraine level headaches and rotten teeth with exposed nerves and so much more, because if you don't, you don't have a place to nurse those wounds and sleep off those drugs and drunks. I simply don't personally know anyone on this very real level.

The cute girl at the headshop counter asked me about my shirt today. She's half my age and more beautiful than I ever managed to pull when I was somewhat normal and in halfway decent shape and residing in that age range. All the same, it felt nice. I guess this is the feeling that is the basis for so many people going to strip clubs.

I didn't even get into Mom or Dad stuff tonight, so that's a win.

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