FEB 27th 2023

So here I go. This is my blog. ha!

Alright, so where does one start? I’m still not sure why I want to do this. Perhaps it to keep myself accountable for what I do, what I am. Perhaps it to cathartically overcome the staleness of the last few years of slumber. I should maybe set goals? Objectives? I could just go with the flow and see where it takes me. Just trust in the process, like the new age gurus would say.

I’m smoking cigarettes, and weed. I’m drinking coffee, and eating gluten and sugary foods. I don’t exercise regularly and have a declining relationship with my sister, who is the only person who knows me and sees me and has been with me for all of this life journey. I think I’d like to start making a change to all that!

I must, I will, get better at administering my body with substances. I must and will treat my body, my “temple”, with more respect. I will make amens with my sister. Apologise for whatever it is she thinks I’ve done.

Upon a quick reflection, it becomes rather clear that actually, all the above mentioned issues I perceive to be prominent and in imminent need to be resolved are all, fundamentally linked together.

What is it thats causing me to fall down this deep dark vortex of bohemian decadentism?

Adler would say that all the issues are self induced. Could it be that I’m in need of attention? Could all this seemingly authentic cry for help that I’m signalling to everyone around me be nothing more than the best way my subconscious knows to get people to look at me? Think about me? Care about me?

I should be careful. Theres so much that could go wrong. My livelihood, my daily bread, my small catering business could go tits up at any minute. And it’s not like I’ve not been here before. Oh, I’ve been here before alright. When I was 18. And my family they all were worried. Their eyes changed when they would look at me. They saw a weak human. They were disgusted. They may have wanted to, but there was nothing they could do to help me.

Things now are different. I am much better at disguising my depression, better at controlling my psychotic fluctuations. Perhaps my mother sees, my grandmother senses, my grandfather gets a hunch, my cousin get a feeling her husband susses but my brother in law, oh he knows. Because my sister tells him. She can see through me and she shares everything with him.

Is this a breakthrough? Am I secretly in love with my sister? And am I secretly jealous of her intimacy with her husband? And is this the reason I can’t get a fucking grip with my life? Ha! self analysing is the best! Such a load of nonsense. The truth is probably something like, I’m a privileged brat who has social anxiety, feels lonely and has forgotten all the important reasons to actually keep on living.

Do I want to die?

Too much for the first chapter?

G