Bad week

This whole week. I was off work, but I have the side job, so I should have been working on that. The deadline was Wednesday and I barely even started by Wednesday.

Mind you, I’ve been sick since last Wednesday. Caught some cold, runny nose, coughing like a motherfucker, sore throat, all that. Got antibiotics from the doctor, took them for a week, etc. I wasn’t dying-bad, but I was really sick.

I’m still working on the side job right now, and am gonna have to devote a huge chunk of my Friday to it, because I couldn’t bring myself to get down to it.

Sickness or not, these days it does always take me some after-the-last-minute pressure to really get into the zone for working on these things and I hate that about myself.

LOL, like so many things.

Last Friday was the anniversary celebration meeting with my AA home group. We talked about the beginnings, how I only attended the meetings without my camera on for the first month, and all that. One woman said that after I turned my camera on for the first time, she was surprised, because from hearing me speak without a face to go with it, she imagined this grumpy old man behind the name, but then she saw what a good-looking, handsome young fella I was.

Though that wasn’t her point, she basically said I was hot, and that felt good. And this was echoed by like 4(?) more women in the group, and I’m like holy fuck. The guys started joking about me being Brad Pitt’s younger brother and some call me Brad now, haha.

On the darker side of thing s— because, I mean, that was the lighter side, it really lifted my spirit a little. But the darker side… before she saw me, just purely based on how I sound and talk, she imagine a grumpy old man.

Years ago, my dad once told me “You’re gonna be such a angry, bitter, grumpy old man.” And knowing he was on the fucking nose about that, I, without batting an eyelash, said “I already fucking am.”

And now it’s official, it’s been confirmed.

Also, yesterday was my ex’s little boy’s birthday and over the day, there were a couple of times when I felt I should text her. But I didn’t text her for her birthday in August either, so I didn’t now. And communication with her would still be painful, I’m still not neutral towards her. Because of the special role I assigned to her in my life, that she was never even meant to fulfill.

I realized a couple weeks ago why I’m still not over her. Since I was a kid, I’ve always wanted to become rich and give my mom a lavish life in return for her giving up her life for me when she gave birth to me at 19 and started raising me on her own. But that never happened.

And my ex was exactly my mom. I guess, in my subconscious, I saw my mom and myself in her and her son. Before her, I had never wanted anything to do with a woman who already had a child with a different man. But she was different. And I am realizing now, over a year later, that my subconscious must have thought that if I “save” her and her son, if I become the man in their life that they don’t have now, and that me and me mom never had, that then I would kind of be saving my own mom and that little boy I still feel sorry for that was me…

Don’t get me wrong, my ex is beautiful, I was head over heels for her, really, honestly, so it’s not that it was some weird fetish, or whatever that made me go for her in the first place. I fell for her, the woman, and then all the other aspects just fell into place — that’s what even made it feel more perfect, that I worked for something I wanted, her, and with her came some things that made everything kinda look like it will all fall in place, finally.

Damn, I’ve written a lot here, and now I feel like I’m in the zone. But the thought that I gotta get back to work and I gotta make a coffee, too… And then I gotta just work-work-work until, I don’t know, late afternoon, probably. Already feels tedious as fuck.

Oh, you know the worst part about this “special love” for my ex? Yesterday was my mom’s birthday as well. Her son and my mom share the same birthday. But I seem to sooner remember the little guy’s birthday than my mom’s these days.

Same with her. My ex shares the same birthday with my sister, too, god fucking damn it. And this year, too, I had spent half the day telling myself not to text her for her birthday before I remembered that I do, however, have to text my sister.

Alright, now I’ve come to a point where my whole mind is just a jumbled mess, full of half thought-through thoughts, unfinished ideas and all that. And this is where I usually just go “whoopsie” and let “it all” fall to the ground and I just walk away from it.

Let’s make that motherfucking goddamn coffee and get back to goddamn motherfucking work.




This is my De(com)pression Chamber, a vehicle I use to (com)municate my thoughts to decompress as I, hopefully, emerge from the depths of depression.

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Decompression Chamber

Decompression Chamber

This is my De(com)pression Chamber, a vehicle I use to (com)municate my thoughts to decompress as I, hopefully, emerge from the depths of depression.

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