tygerblade

I found myself longing for my teenage days today. Then my only worries were my systematic verbal and emotional abuse from my family, my social shunting and physical abuse from my peers, and sexual abuse to myself. I had no foreseeable future, given my suicidal depressions and inability to cope, and I was damn proud to write about it!!

And I miss it now, because somedays (like today) I come home feeling like I've been beat repeatedly with a lead pipe, just from the stress of work. And I can't even write about it, because it's would bore the reader to tears.

I survived my childhood and overcame all that was thrown at me, served six years in the military after graduating college with honors, then thankfully got out and took control over my own destiny. Built a nitch for myself and became a so-called productive member of society. Still a bit of a social leper, though I can be quite entertaining on a one on one basis with someone I like. And I no longer suffer from severe depressions and mood swings, but maintain a steady level of dull numbness instead, without resorting to the use of chemicals. Though I do miss chemicals sometimes. I will never commit suicide, because it would require too much effort for my current apathy to handle. And I could never leave my cats in the care of anyone else anyway. It's almost an improvement!!

And yet I have to endure days like today. And the abuses I suffer are so comon that only Scott Adams can write about them and be entertaining.

I suppose I'll just have to reach deep down past my apathy and numbness if I am to ever write anything interesting again. (This not being the best example, obviously.) That, and go out tonight, and drink many many margaritas.