Sorry for the lack of posts lately. I’ve been busy with work, but mostly, I’ve been too depressed to care. I’ve been using my energy on what matters in the end: My wife and kids. Yesterday, we drove around a little more than usual, and I had to fight a losing battle: staying awake while
Today, I have a treat for you. A darling girl (who I took to prom once, full disclosure) reached out to me, and asked if she could share something on Terminally Intelligent. I hope you enjoy Brittni’s stirring words as much as I did. I live my life in a fluid discontentment between anxious and
Some days, I sit down at my computer, see that blank page, and have no idea what is going on. It’s like walking into a room, walking back out, and walking back in, hoping that your brain will remember what the hell you were doing. Just like that, except with writing. Most of the time,
Getting back to “real life” while depressed can be fucking difficult! Yesterday, my dad was released for the physical therapy/rehab center, and he got to go home. First, though, he came over to have chipped beef on toast, because delicious food is delicious food. While we hung out, I organized my Magic: the Gathering cards.
There’s this thing I do. I do it all the time. Whether I mean it or not, whether or not I want to. I smile. I smile all the time. It’s an old habit. When I was very young, my mother coached me to smile. It probably started with the normal mom-impulse. She wanted to
Last night was a blast. We had fun eating too much pizza, eating ice cream, and playing games with the kids. After they had adjourned to enjoy the last week of summer break, we busted out Cards Against Humanity. We all dreaded playing without George. It was one of our favorite games to play together. Preferably
I feel like I’m faking my entire life right now. I smile when someone smiles at me. I laugh when people make jokes, and smile kindly when appropriate. I hug and thank people for inviting me over. I smile and enjoy what I can. But Jenny catches me staring into space. I feel her eyes
Everybody manages their energy in different ways, right? Some people subscribe to the spoon theory, and others just schedule themselves really, really well. Not me. I have a pile of fucks, and they run out. Today, I have no fucks. I don’t have the fucks to be nice to the neighbors. I don’t have the fucks to
This last weekend was a blur to me. Jenny and I hosted the wake, and had dozens of folks show. We played games to honor George, and had pizza, wings, cola, and other noms. I met his brothers, his sister, and his father. George was greatly loved, and people loved celebrating his life by playing
