Why are these decisions that *I* have to make? Answer me that. I did not expect to h ave to be doing this at age 27, that much I can tell you. Fucking grow up, you babies.

And if I get one more comment telling me "you have problems but I'm living in dumpsters in the woods" or whatever I swear I will fucking hunt people down. Whoop dee shit! You're wandering around scared and alone! So is half the fucking country! Your problem isn't any more unique than mine, and if you think mine is less serious because I happen to have a house to live in and family to live with, I cordially invite you to suck my fucking dick. I am really sick to death of being invalidated, of having no one think that my problems are worth caring about because other people have it worse. It makes me feel like I'm going crazy and I know I am NOT going crazy.

That fucking guy. I'm ready for him tonight. Scared the shit out of me the other day, but no longer. If he comes back around I'm going out there and taking his head off myself, I don't care how dark it is.

alcoholism
depression
denial
self-pity
learned helplessness
post-traumatic stress disorder
anorexia
anger
borderline personality disorder
cabin fever
fear
fear
fear

Is it me, or does almost everyone turn now?

And there's nothing mroe fun to watch than the disintegration of your famiyl, is there?

the main thing we're concerned about now is our next-door neighbor. It's funny--he used to be the real stereotypical "mean old man next door"--he threatened to break my brother's neck if he broke any of his roses, and we're reasonably sure he shot our cat with a bb gun and left antifreeze out for him. But after his wife passed he really mellowed, and over the past few years my mom says he's become really nice. The thing is that no one has seen him for a few days. And they absolutely are more aggressive and determined when they get stuck someplace and are unable to feed for a certain period of time, I mean even *I* in my limited experience could tell you that. So we're worried about him in a couple of different ways, basically. He has had heart problems.

Amy and I got in a fight last night. I couldn't tell you what it was about, really. But we haven't been close in a while now. How did we not really notice that before? Or did we, and did we choose to ignore it? Last weekend was very nice, but since then, virtually no "meaningful touches," snuggling, that sort of thing. Very little talking about anything of import. We sort of go our own separate ways in the house. We don't really snuggle when we go to sleep or get up.

My brother is a mess too. He's actually been working, doing financial stuff for one of the fleets, but they sold him a real bill of goods in terms of what his responsibilities would be. He's working all the time, coming home late in the dark which none of us like. But he won't quit, and he won't look for another job. When my mom is able she tries to help him but he refuses the advice, so now she's got another thing to worry about, the last thing she needs, I assure you.

Free moment at the computer, this is so rare these days, it is cold and kind of close in here all the time.

Amy and I had sex for the first time in months this weekend. (It's a crowded house, but we managed. We had some experience in this regard, after all--we dated while I was in high school.)

It was nice, very nice. I wish it were the kind of Stephen King deal where the horrific end-of-the-world tragedy makes people all kinds of horny, but this has not been the case for us. Well, it has been for me, maybe. But everybody brought the same problems they had before the revenants into this whole situation with them, and they didn't go away. The things that are wrong with you are always wrong with you until they get fixed regardless of the external circumstances. I thought when we got married that that was the sign she needed to trust me again. I really thought that would change everything. What can I say? I'm not the world's most insightful person. the anniversaries of people's deaths come and go and I'm lucky if I remember it at all. I miss the intimacy. I feel robbed of it.

Do you ever get to wondering, especially now, if you are "worth" having survived? Not really "worth it," or "deserving of it," but like, why? It's amazing how arbitrary things are. It occurred to me that I could just as easily be gay as straight, I bet. So much of love is just a buddy-buddy relationship. Would that be hard to replicate with a man? The sexual aspect, yes, but the rest of it? I don't know. I don't think so. What's been happening has shown everyone (read: me) how really random what you consider the integral aspects of your life actually are. You envision yourself as a grown-up and part of your own family and the next thing you know you are in high school again, a high schooler. No one has any goals anymore, no one has any long-term plans, because no one really knows what's going to happen. Everything gets scarcer and more expensive because fewer and fewer people are doing anything. Is that true where you are? Without goals, without an endpoint as a constant, everything just becomes a big gray washout, too fluid to care about. I don't care and nobody cares. Everyone's life is just a sort of diseased parody of life. A dry spell that's lasted for five years, who gives a shit? It could last for five, ten, twenty more years if anyone lives that long--what difference does it make? It makes a big difference to ME--I guess that's hope?