If I Ever

If I ever get out of this mess, which I now think is what they call hoarding, even though I don't quite get the term, I may start a business, or just a one man secret service, to help others like me get past it. I have searched the help avenues online.  I even called one, but her website was misleading.  Unless you have a huge estate or the like, you'll pay thousands extra.  She's Orange county and north mostly.

The majority of stuff is for the archetypical very old person in one of those old fashioned wicker backed wheel chairs, wearing a smoking jacket or ornate robe, blanket over knees, etc.  At least, so it seems.

I just want someone to do the work.  Every time I start I get so intensely sad and full of remorse and regret for where I am that I can't even move.  The only reason I don't just quit altogether is I feel so bad for leaving any work for others.  This is wrong and sick.

That is the truth of it.  And it is not that much.  I have no friends who have time to fool with it.  My friends on Pt Loma did help about five years ago.  Little progress has been made since and we have travelled backwards.  A sea of mail, unopened.  Government junk.  Insurance.  Who knows?

This is un fettered depression I think.  Psychosis of some type I bet.  That is simply unacceptable. I need a really good girlfriend or wife, but that is impossible until I fix my hide so it is once again a dwelling.  No one in the world want to be around me and come help me as I go through withdrawal from years of neglect and hiding.

I have never really cured this issue.  Not for most of my life.  The sadness part, not necessarily the other but that too.  I believe I get why, but I just have to get past it.  Life growing up should not ruin everything forever and do it so sneakily that youy don't even get what you've done-or not done-until too late.

This is a case of pure will.  More than anything, even stopping drinking.  This is dealing with another symptom of the same fear of reality and confusion that cause the drinking.  My own lack of certitude.  I had no desire to even drink.  I did it because that was who I ran with and running with them was a ticket out of the house.   That dynamic is totally bizarre and too sad to even relive this minute.   I do not think anyone knew how terribly sad I was, now that I look at it.  It may not have been obvious.  It was to me, but I just figured rejecting anything I thought about how things worked was the ticket.  Drink, be fickle, lose all feeling, be numb and forget all you think is good.  Just be unconscious.

Boy they just hit the tip of the iceberg in Miami with all the studies and psychological workups and counseling in the years after I stopped drinking.  I was stopped about four years before they got really into it.   Eventually I quit them.  Wrong again.  They wanted to make the state pay for me to get a doctorate, in any field they said.  The one lady had a pretty good plan.  I would have had to finish up the bachelor but that would have been doable back then.

Got to wonder what I was thinking in that whole take the girl who didn't care and her daughter to NC and save them thing.   OK.  I know what I was thinking.  I do not know why I was ignoring reality.

When that exploded I never quite got a grip again.  Almost, then no.  It is a self destructive and stubborn pattern.  Totally unnecessary.  Truly the coward's way out I guess.  But don't ever think being a coward is a picnic.  I will try to be the courageous one from now on.  I thought I was as a child and that is likely true.

How far into giving up I am is shocking.  That is what makes reversing the momentum a real bitch if you will excuse my lingo.  I do not tend to call people such names so the rude factor is minimal.