a quick note (irony on a cosmic scale)...

I don't always avoid in ways that are blatantly destructive to my living. Overeating is, while eating is not. Enjoying life seems not to be, unless you look at a larger context of how it enables me to avoid doing critically necessary things to sustain me, like paying bills, buying food, taking care of my body and my home. So I wonder, am I always fucking up or not? I am caught between a rock and a hard place, as the saying goes (I think). I enjoy TV, playing games, writing, laughing at humor, formulating and articulating and refining my opinions. In the larger context, I am dying by the way I live. I don't know how you formulate truthful context. Am I depressed or not? Sometimes or always? Does Now only matter or not?

Do you see the irony on a cosmic scale? I do not know how to find my way out. It's about Perfection. I have been living this way all my life. I do not know how to win, how to fit in, how to succeed at living.

Why was writing so much today so easily? Why have I been so successful in honing my poems over the past week or so? I have almost no food, I am overdue paying my phone bill, my mortgage, and my car payments. The anxiety of going out overwhelms me and even when I imagine it, my lack of basic hygiene (the obvious stink) makes doing any of these things seem insurmountable.

Can you ever begin to understand why I ask for help in doing things when make no sense that I seem I am unable to. I ask for help because I am trying to live and failing. I see myself as Intellectually Existing.

I cannot predict with certainty what will motivate me to act when doing so seems impossible.

Did I mention I have a seriously overdue house tax bill which I tried to have corrected with state, which I tried to negotiate with the town in the past. All of my attempts have been unsuccessful. I don't know when I will lose my home. I do know eventually, inevitably, unless this is resolved, I will.

I find it ironic that state laws refuse to bend to accommodate my disability even though my disability is not in dispute.

For a long time I haven't been able to get myself to make phone calls or answer my phone. Not going out or making phone calls makes it hard to pay bills, never mind trying to negotiate anything anymore.

Christie I hope you can begin to understand why I needed your help to clear the financial blocks to my being able to get medication which would help me. I bless you for making it possible for me. Making it possible does not make it doable. It wasn't a waste to make it possible, because until I am dead it is still possible. Some how I might succeed.

I got car insurance. It required phone calls, the only ones I have made for at least 6 months, maybe nearly a year. I was caught between a rock and hard place and Kian was involved. I asked my son to help me figure out whether I had insurance renewing or not and he found out but never followed through. I found that out when I called. I called because I would have to leave it as Kian's fault in part if I did not. I love Kian beyond infinity. The same way I love Christie. I could not make it Kian's fault that he stopped short of helping me enough. I don't discuss medication with you Christie because I cannot figure out how you can see me through to getting it from Hawaii and anything more I suggest may not be enough. I see the pain it causes you and I cannot burden you with it when you cannot do enough to help.

I have always found myself able to act when it comes to caring for my children. Acting on behalf of their well-being has always brought out the best in me. It still does. It is not by accident that y children are both 3000 and 6000 miles away. I have distanced myself to keep how I am from harming them. Who I am never will.

This quick note digressed ... how ironic. As I have said before in Growing Older  ...and so I write.