jakemarley

I think I may be forcing myself to write, maybe because I think I need to get something concrete done, or maybe to escape doing something concrete. I just got back from my trip to Newfoundland well, actually, I got back over a week ago, but I am just now getting rested up from a week of chucking tree trunks off the trail we were cutting. The countless unnecessary rituals, which I put myself through on a daily basis, and which seem to abate the worst symptoms of my compulsive/obsessive personality, had been unattended while I was gone. In order to cope with the normal schedule of the other people on the trip, I cut my meds down to about half my normal dose while I was away. This only made things worse when I got back. I dont know if its that I have gotten caught up on my rituals or that the chemicals in my blood are back up to acceptable levels. The latter is more likely, I think.

Anyway, I feel I am writing because I want to whisper something to the vastness of cyberspace that will assuage my need to communicate in my solitary life. I hope that I am not writing words as empty as cyberspace or my life. To say what I was doing in Newfoundland seems pointless when I am really only talking to myself, because there is really no one listening. I have a psychiatrist and a therapist to whom I am supposed to say these things, I suppose, but I prefer just answering the questions I am asked. When they get done inquiring about the meaningless details of my rather featureless life, they always close with the question, Is there anything else on your mind? Shouldnt that question come first? There are endless things on my mind, or, rather, one endless thing, one endless question. They do not have the answer to this question, so I might as well ask it here in nothing.

Maybe I have more to say, but I think I will leave that to my blog. I could probably bring down the SG servers if I wrote everything I wanted.