D-Minus

Usually these posts are nothing but a negative rant about this, that, and the other. I suppose this is okay, because there is no real audience, and this is mostly about working through singular issues as they occur in the day-to-day. Sometimes, I think there might be a little humor here. Other days, I find absolutely no humor or merit at all to what’s piled up below. In the end, it doesn’t matter.

Negativity is a poison, and I’m trying to get it out of my system the only way I know how. In rehab or in twelve-step situations, a person is always encouraged to talk through their problems. I always thought this was bullshit, and I still do. My prerogative has always been to do something about it. I think a person like me is aided very little in talking through personal issues. Now, when someone actually does something tangible, well…that’s a somewhat different story.

And I’ve not been particularly good at action, either. I’ve said for a very long time that there are a number of factors in play that contributed to a drunken lifestyle, and that the drinking was only a symptom of deeper difficulties. I still believe that. For example, I still generally hate myself, but I think I’m becoming somewhat easier for others to navigate on an interpersonal level. There is little chance of random arrests, asset forfeiture, bench warrants, etc. And consequently, maybe I hate myself a bit less than eighteen months ago. There are now significant periods of time when I don’t completely disgust myself…And most of the things I hate most about myself, I’m working to change. I’m not even trying to correct all that shit—just to make something different out of it.

The only thing that truly ignites any action at all is my lack of desire to talk about anything. I mean anything. I don’t want to talk about the weather, politics, the length of the grass, a leak in the roof, and especially, myself. I have nothing to offer any conversation where the topic might be what’s going on in my head. For starters, I have no fucking idea what’s going on in my head about 99% of the time, and that other one percent can be usually reserved for the instances when I’m wrong about something, but I’m convinced I’m right. It’s unfortunate.

And it doesn’t take much to initiate the action these days. It’s almost always some comment made in passing by one of the few people I know, and there is an overwhelming desire within me to not have that particular comment ever made to me again. My father probably didn’t have any idea at all what was going to happen when he made the comment not too long ago: “There are plenty of projects you could do around here that don’t involve you climbing around on that goddamned roof.” Well, he was right. Unfortunately for him, I most certainly don’t want to discuss any of those things with him until they are done. He’s gonna have to trust me on this one, and it’s got to be one of the hardest things in the world for him…the den was his room as a child, I’m told…and it’s going to be torn to shit for a little while longer. I’m not spending half this winter sick again. I’m convinced the ridiculous levels of mold and mildew infesting this place from years of neglect had contributed to illness last year. That situation is gone, but a whole new problem now awaits…

So I suppose the only thing in the world I have going on that is modestly interesting is the fact that the most badly damaged pieces of this house are getting fixed. My crew isn’t very big, but what do you do? I’m thankful this year I have so many people who’ve been patient with me over the past year and a half. I’m trying to get a little more patience myself these days. I’ve been told it’s a virtue.