You Can Always Lose a Little More

I was really looking forward to hanging out with my folks this weekend. I fucked it up. It got fucked up. We are fucked up. I don't know why, it's a combination of personality flaws and history and fear & sadness. It could have been lack of food (never good for the state of mind), perhaps PMS... was it the influence of the live portrayal of a highly dysfunctional (but not unrelatable) family? Who knows.

I realized last week that i have a lot on my mind. I've just been pretending that I don't.

Saturday i power puked it out - in tears, in profanity, in rage. It was sad. I worried mom & dad, i hurt their feelings, i made them sad, i freaked them out. It's hard to recover from one of these legendary meltdowns. We tried, we ate dinner, we shopped at the ASS, but there was still that heavy heavy sadness underneath it all, and nothing any of us could say to undo the fucking screaming in the middle of barrington street.

In such circumstances, there is a point where i realize that all the badness is a result of my insanity. That at some point my despair or confusion or frustration or whatever it is has flipped the switch, and i have succeeded in achieving the exact opposite result of the one i had hoped for. Then the remorse kicks in. The self flagellation, the sobriety of reality, the icy grip of loneliness.

I had a lot of stuff to discuss with the folks, we got derailed and never got around to it. We had to spend all our time licking wounds and attempting to make amends.

It is imperative that I stop disgusting myself. I have tried, this weekend, to put the push on for improvement. I have failed at it several times this weekend. I have succeeded also. Family dischord like i experienced yesterday, that has no basis in rationality or sanity, takes the wind out of my sails. It stops me dead in my tracks. I'm reeling from the blow.

I'm a bull in a china shop.

I found a mouse corpse in the middle of the living room floor tonight. I guess it was minnie. As usual, he seemed to appear there out of nowhere just as he always did in life. I scooped him into a grocery bag and threw him in the dumpster. Mouse heaven, really, when you consider the fiesta of rotting food he is laid to rest in. It was nice to know you, minnie.

My aunt & uncles quizzed me on my love life tonight. It was a short conversation. Basically the question they are really asking is: "why are you single?"

I have a million answers, but the one I always say out loud (while laughing off the stabbing sensation in my gut) is: "you tell me".