This morning I fell asleep in my car. Then I woke up and realized that I was going 60 mph in heavy morning traffic. Now, I could give a rat's scrotum about my life but I didn't want to wreck my beautiful car so I slapped myself in the face a few times. Physical pain should be more of a stimulant than it actually is. I hit myself harder than I've ever been hit and still the eyes were crossing and the car was weaving periodically. I was listening to an audio book about caring for a new puppy. It was written by some monks who breed German Shepards. The background soundtrack was that meditational monk chanting.
I think it was the narrator's soothing, enlightened voice coupled with the chanting that did was doing it to me.
I made it home okay. When I pulled into the garage, I reclined the seat so I could stretch. I woke up 4-5 hours later - still in the car. I guess I was pretty tired. At least I had already shut off the engine (the audiobook was still playing, however).
Come to think of it, I've been feeling very fatigued lately. I've been having other curious health issues too. My heart will, unexpectedly, start racing for a few minutes. My nose has been dry and bumpy. Dark urine. I wonder what it could be.
Sunday, I had sex. I wasn't going to because I was mad at wifey for a number of reasons. It seems like all of our sex lately has been quickies with the kids knocking on the locked door. Don't get me wrong. This can be fun but it's been getting old. Also the night before I was in a really cuddly mood and I was laying next to her on the couch just holding her. I was lightly caressing her skin with my hands. She must've fallen asleep because she started pulling away from my touch. At the time it pissed me off because I just wanted to enjoy touching her and she was pushing me away. She's a real butthead when she's sleeping. The next morning I was playing a game on the computer and she had stripped naked and said "So, are you going to do me?". "How erotic", thought I. I respectfully declined. Actually I think it was more of a disrespectful ignoring type of declination.
She asked me later why I was turning down sex. I wanted to tell her that while I nearly always have sex with her when she wants me to, the reverse is rarely true. Ok, technically I always want to have sex, but it's somehow different. Guys understand this, but can't explain it. Girls just don't understand it. I also wanted to tell her that sometimes I like to have sex at different times of the day. Sometimes I want to fuck at night after the kids have fallen asleep so we can take our time and enjoy each other for more than 15 minutes at a time. Even if she can't/doesn't want to fuck, can't she touch me and hold me and make me feel sexy? I didn't tell her any of this because she would've gotten defensive and felt like I was picking on her. I just told her she didn't want to know.
Later that night I realized that I was acting like a stupid bitch. So I bent her over the kitchen counter after our guest had departed.
Then, Monday afternoon, I scrogged her again. Afterward, when we were in the shower, the strangest thing happened. My nose started bleeding. It was bleeding alot. It was kinda freaky. I was just glad it hadn't happened during sex. Add another item to the list of my new health curiosities.
After I woke up in the garage yesterday, I decided to pay the bills, clean the garage, detach the fireplace, and wash and wax the car. Suprisingly, I got all of them done except for cleaning the garage. And I finally beat Jade at checkers. Twice. She's such a gamer.
I took wifey and Phoenix to see Attack of the Clones on Monday. Phoenix slept through most of it. He woke up when they were chaining Anakin, Padme, and Obi-Wan and releasing the beasts. So he slept through most of the boring crap and was awake and alert for the best 20-30 minutes of the movie. When we were leaving he said "Stah Whores is my favorite"! Heh. Stah Whores.
My class starts next Monday. I'm taking Interpersonal Communication. I have a definite deficiency in the communication department so it should be informative experience with the youth of Everett.
I've removed myself from the Seattle Gothic community. I realized that even though I love the music and the style, the people are just fuckwads. I'm sure not all of them are fuckwads and I shouldn't base my impression on a few bad experiences but it's just not worth my time. Besides, I'm much too introspective, enlightened, introverted, and selfish to be able to successfully form any friendships or relationships there.
So I'm back to being a reclusive, depressed, self-conscious loser. Feeling constantly overwhelmed and under motivated. Feeling like a spectator. Listening daily to self-help recordings while, at the same time, thinking about suicide. Not thinking about it like I'm going to do it, but thinking more along the lines of "What does a person feel when they blow their brains out?". At first glance, suicide seems like such an easy way out of the pain, the frustration, the helplessness. But it's such a sleazy, selfish, irreversible thing to do if you have people that love and depend on you.
I keep hoping things will get better when I have my drums. But I'm cynical because none of my other "things" have been able to ease the discomfort. Maybe making music will.
Maybe I'll start taking Zoloft or Gleemonex or something. Seeing a psychologist was a disappointment. It seems like a one-in-a-million chance that I'll ever find a psychologist that meets my needs. So I guess the next step, after determining whether or not I'm worth trying to save, is to go for the seratonin stimulators.
It's frustrating to know that I contain within me the power to do great things but I'm held back by my own depression and social retardation. It's hard to do great things when the first criticism sends you into hiding. It's hard to change my behavior when I don't have an ideal.
Wife, kids, drums. That's what's keeping me going.
VHS is dying. For some reason this is making me apprehensive.