I need to start providing a record of what’s going on with myself. One day, I will inevitably be going through my blog posts and rereading stuff and wondering how I felt about something or other. SO I’M PUBLISHING ON A SUNDAY. IT’S NOT FOR YOU, IT’S FOR ME.
I don’t like blogging about happy things because if I reread it later it might upset me because whatever happy thing happened stopped happening. (Like when I start dating someone and then I’m really glad I didn’t write about it because I have to break it off two weeks later. [It was Kyle.]) Whiiiich is probably why I haven’t read any of my happy-things-in-a-jar that I wrote last year.
And of course I don’t like blogging about unhappy things because I don’t want to leak horrifying thoughts all over the internet and it’s usually personal and not pleasant so I don’t want to throw Degon under the bus by talking about our problems in a public forum. (I tend to be really critical of him.)
So basically the main thing is that Kyle made me promise to try to get a therapist. I’m gonna go to the health clinic I usually go to to see if I can get hooked up with a therapist. And then Degon and I will probably try to figure out couple’s therapy.
Here’s a weird and unrelated thing: I might end up staying out-of-town next week for a work thing. Which could be awesome, in the sense that I’d have alone-time, but could also be terrible, in the sense that I’d be alone with my brain. Which. You know. Fuck that.
Anyway, I think I’m getting sick and I don’t know what I want to do with my day. I’m pretty tired. I might go ahead and read those happy-things-in-a-jar after all.