The Long Road Out

Something remarkable just occurred.  I was leaving a parking lot and realized I had no reason to go in either direction.  Home was to the right.  Town was to the left.  It didn't matter.  I could have just turned off the car, stopped traffic, and begun to write this journal entry to myself. In my life of transporting myself, this unique moment might be a truthful thing.  It might be a sad thing.    It is a thing.  I have nowhere to go.  Nowhere to be.  It doesn't matter what I do.  For the first time in my life, I have no human to go home to.  No one will know when I return there, or if I ever do.   Except Tico, my cat.  So I turned left and went to the grocery store to stock up on cat food.  Now I'm home with him.  I'm OK.  He appears to be content and full of love for me. This is my purpose at this sad passing moment of my short life. I am now embarking on a solo mission--living by my...

I've been doing OK today but the next few days are going to be tough…yet another real estate transaction, and ejecting a roommate to end a stalemate.   Roommate and her wonderful cat. I'm getting the second cat myself on Wednesday… Everything reminds me of my cat that was murdered by a coyote earlier this spring.  Of how much I've lost.  Of the reality that I'm amazed I'm still standing, and able to walk.  Of how scared and worried I am about what will become of me.  I'm not certain I make any sense to people I meet any more.    But…I'm celibate, single, and I'll have two cats who I want to love.  I've paid off most of my divorce debt, thanks to a huge mortgage (first mortgage I've had in 25 years). I've started crying at random times again.  Typical when trauma gets triggered, and so much every day is reminding me of the struggle to keep my head above water.  I bet this passes…maybe end of this week?  Right now, ...

I'm going to live by myself for the first time in my life starting Wednesday. I can't wait. Actually not by myself. I have a cat Tico. And I'm getting a second cat (unnamed but I'm thinking Charisma) at 4:15 on Wednesday. My family. Me. Tico. Charisma. A dream. I've had roommates for most of the last 2 1/2 years. Non-romantic female friends. I wasted 2 1/2 years. Friends who worried about me. My new family will be different. Me and two cats full of mutual love. Who show up for each other 24/7. Who start with love and respect. The best chapter of my life. Love to you Tico and, currently, "X." Tico and Charisma. We're going to rock this sick fucking planet. The doors are locked. No coyotes. No roommates.

Ok. Official. I have a roommate problem. Again. Same one as a year ago. Same behaviors. Right now I feel like I'm living with a cross between a nun, a social worker, and Julia Child. I don't necessarily value any of those three persona. She came back with my aid to get herself set up in a new life in Washoe. Nevada. A year later she's permanently installed in my basement. Now she's diagnosing my mental health again. This is where we left off last July. This will resolve quickly now. Sadly, Ceci got killed in the meantime. On her watch. She's had several medical crises of her own…I've tried to show up as needed. Nothing more. If she weren't here I would begin to build a friendship with my new cat. Tico's found a place in this broken family constellation by connecting with the other cat. Wise. Anyway, near the 2nd and final breaking point. The sooner the better. Yuck. 🤮

I'm disappointed and surprised, though I accept that this is my journey now. But I also know the signs of anxiety and fear and behavioral disorders like distrust of others. The progress towards lightness and in-the-moment happiness of the last year is unwinding. The descent startles me. I'm self-talking in public again. The voice is my ugliest unkind self, and the words are harsh. I have never spoken this harshly to another being. You don't know. Self-arrest! Self-arrest! That's what my dear therapist used to say. I feel helpless. There's nothing to grab onto across this smooth steep surface that flies by so fast my ears ring. Everything aches. Why is that? Sleep. There's where I am safe.

I hope I die soon. Really. This is ridiculous. What a pathetic life I've had. Stop. I'm done. Really. Fuck you all.  I lived with a woman who was me-first 24/7 for 30 years. And now she’s convinced she was a victim.  This is the American Dream she hoped for.   Innocent of the carnage behind her. A pure American asshole. She should be on the currency. What a disaster of a human being.  Hiding behind international covenants she’s never once observed in her family life.  I puke on you.

So strange. The trend of the last few days continues. I hate everyone! Just luck Donald. He's a twat. Maybe he's just lonely and depressed like me. I doubt he's going to improve soon, so I'm not optimistic about his future joy.