This evening an intriguing question was asked to me, and it is only now that I can really try to determine the answers, answers that I need to answer for myself before I can for anyone else, before I can do something about the quandaries they impose, before I can start getting back to me.

The question actually asked was more or less a series of questions that I simply brushed off by saying that I need medication, and while that is an option worth considering, it is not the option I am comfortable with accepting without some fight. My methods for living and getting through things, good and bad, have always been based on what I myself can do without any assistance. It is something that has caused more than a few unpleasant discussions with my wife, because every woman needs to feel needed by their husband, sadly the things I need her for are not what she considers acceptable; maybe she will benefit from this as well.

The questions can be summed up into one simply complicated question, what is wrong with me? The question was asked innocently enough for me to fully realize the true intentions of the question and how non-threatening they are, so now I am left wondering what the answer is. Right now I feel as though something is missing, and while I can speculate until dawn what it may be, speculations are why I am faced with this question to begin with. I am usually certain of myself heading into any situation, regardless of size or importance, but lately the certainty has been mostly speculation.

Bouts of depression have been hit and miss recently, and an obvious answer is our finances, especially now faced with adding another bill for a new and more expensive babysitter. Wouldn’t be a problem if our bills didn’t exceed our average monthly income by four hundred dollars. It surely doesn’t help when I’m getting ready for work each day trying as hard as I can to make my hair presentable, my hair which should have been cut two weeks ago if I could have afforded it then or since, or anytime soon.

It’s not really what’s bothering me though, I have been in this situation many times before and I know it will get better if we just focus on getting it done. Of course right now I have this lottery ticket in front of me that I bought tonight, it’s two dollars that could have been used for gas, but I defend my purchase knowing that I can’t win if I don’t play. I’ve contended for years that my problems would all but vanish with a few million dollars. I know money doesn’t buy everything, but it buys the roots of happiness, and that is a good start.

I’m feeling like my control is slipping away, I have been able to stay on top of myself so well the last few years, and now I think about the last few weeks and know that I’m slacking off, if some of my indiscretions didn’t feel so good I would probably consider changing those habits before they get too long in the tooth, and bite me in the ass.

It’s not just a matter of how responsible I am behind the wheel anymore either, and to be clear I’m not endangering anything but my checkbook, but it’s now extending to my need for self gratification, at the expense of others. I hurt those who I could pass by, and I aim for those in my path. I imagine someone getting out of their car because they are uncomfortable with how closely I am following them. I have always believed that the things we think of without any effort are the things that are the most certain and true, without being tainted by intention or agendas, no need to look cool or let off steam. I have to force the images out of my head once it gets to a certain point, and it’s the same every time, with the only change being in the person I am inflicting this on. I get the flash of he or she getting out of the car coming back towards my car looking angry, then I get out and without any cause or hesitation I throw the person into one of the windows on the car, that’s where I stop it.

I think it’s because that’s where things change if I were to do it, that’s when my daughter starts writing to her daddy in jail, and of all the harm I feel I am capable of right now, she is clearly never to be a recipient, at least not directly. It’s important for me to get back in control of myself before I do something to harm her indirectly. Of course a thought comes to mind now that makes my desire for such things increase, people who know me think I would never actually do any of this, or even come close to it, I am tired of people who are close to me thinking they know me just because of their status in my life.

One of the most effective ways to challenge their beliefs of me is to follow through, though the cost would likely exceed the profit. I will get my tastes for destruction quenched soon enough.

I am missing creativity, freedom, happiness, ability, my guitar, the feeling of love, sex (my own doing), and most of all, choice. My options are so limited right now; perhaps that is where my control went away, when my life became a predefined path with only a few possible destinations. But right now I am faced with a choice that I must make, and if I don’t do it carefully, I will end up where I will not live.

I realize most don’t care to read this, but along with posting this to my blog comes a sense of finality, and that I will take. It’s not complete, nor is this writing very helpful to anyone, so do with the knowledge what you want; I don’t care. I don’t care. I do not care.