Thoughts Deferred

For eleven days I have been trying to complete a post about anonymity.

For ten days I have been trying to complete a post about helping my Dad fix his plumbing.

For nine days I have been trying to complete a post about running errands.

For eight days I have been trying to complete a post about my library.

For seven days I have been trying to complete a post about helping my Dad install a display case in his friend's store.

For six days I have been trying to complete a post about my birthday.

For five days I have been trying to complete a post about eating dinner with my Dad.

For four days I have been trying to complete a post about one of my close friends.

For three days I have been trying to complete a post about fighting with my mother.

For two days I have been trying to complete a post about despairing over my blog.

Yesterday I tried to complete a post about how my life keeps repeating itself.

I could not keep up. I needed too much time to write each post; It took me too long to start and I spent too much time on details. My writing habit is still far too undisciplined. I was constantly fighting with my mother, who is used to me playing video games on the computer, and considered anything I was doing on it a waste of the time that I should be spending helping her.

The real problem was that I am a manic depressive who has been attempting to apply himself to life for the past month. Without a thought sink, that would have been impossible. My college excursion in Texas failed because I did not have a thought sink. Now I have a thought sink, my blog. But I am relying entirely on it for emotional stability, and I have not been getting enough relief from it. It is not important how much time I spend on it; it is just crucial that I finish getting each thought out. Each unfinished post contains an unexpressed thought that weighs on my mind. Hence the need to write quickly. But my ability to write is still contingent on my mood, which was increasingly volatile.

I slowly went nuts. After last Saturday I lost all interest in actually writing my thoughts down. Sunday I spent resignedly trying to get some work done. By Monday I was back to where I had been this spring, desperately trying to completely shut off reality. I looked at porn all day. By Tuesday I realized I had died again, and I was numbly searching for some way to come back to life. Today is Wednesday. I am a little better.

I know I can't write everything down. But I am not interested in making disembodied musings. I want to put my life into this blog. I think that that is the only way I will save it. And I will not quit this, no matter how many setbacks I have. The posts will keep coming.

The thoughts of the past week's unfulfilled posts are still with me, and I still need to unload them. But to keep trying to write about small details from last week is counter-productive for a person trying to move on from the past. I will try to get some of it down by this Saturday, at which point it will be completely stale. After that it all gets flushed.

Thank you, anyone who has read this. I have to work tomorrow. Good night. 
Included @ 11/12/2003 09:11:00 PM; And so on, etcetera, etcetera.

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