Friday, January 08, 2016

Personal Update Time

Been a while since I spoke of myself here, so here we go.  I know you are all dying of curiosity of my current state a mere 4 months out from that life-altering surgery.  I know I am dying to find out how I'm doing.   I don't tell myself either as I don't want me to worry.

Let's get the first thing out there first: I hate this fucking bag!   I do.  I hate it.  I hate the smell.  I hate the bulge it makes in my shirt.  I hate dealing with it.  I hate having a constant reminder of what I went through.   The worst is that I often forget it is there and the sudden realization that it is, is sometimes like getting again for the first time: I have to adjust to it and remind myself that it is permanent and how I am forever.    But it isn't all bad...I wear boxers again and that is awesome!  I don't buy toilet paper and my toilet seat hasn't gone down in months.  I hated taking shits, I just haven't decided if I hated shits more or less than I hate this bag.

I have started working full time-ish again.  Our office has everyone down one day a week, so that is the "ish."   I am not out of my hole of debt, but I can see the bottom which means I can stop sinking and should start rising again soon.   My nihilism is still going strong and that is a problem as I don't think I have fully committed back to the living again.   I feel like I mentally still have one foot in the grave and am simply biding time between outbreaks.  I have to constantly remind myself it is not the length of time one has, but what one does with it that matters and I need to commit to this life.  I am trying though.  I am forcing myself to go out some.  I have gotten back in touch with old friends and am forcing myself to hang out with them.   By forcing, I mean that my natural inclination is to stay home alone as that is my comfort zone, so I force myself to go to them rather than having them come to me.

I am obsessed with comedy programming now.  I won't watch anything serious I've noticed.  I tried Jessica Jones and I can see it is a show I should love, but the unrelenting darkness seems to get to me now where it didn't before.   I've continued trying to learn more and more about myself and to find comfort in what I find.  I have accepted perfection is never going to be attained, but that is not a reason not to strive for it.   I used to use that as an excuse to not try, but I've realized that, while you can't reach perfection, you can get pretty damn close if you try.    This is the concept I am trying to apply to my life now: it will never be perfect and there is officially now no chance of it ever being perfect, but I can get close if I really want to and I think I really want to.   I mean, why did I go through all that Hell if I am just going to wait to die?

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