March 1991

March 10, 1991
My weekly encryptions seem to be waning in their happenings. C'est la guerre! Last week was a terribly depressing one. My therapy last Thursday was shared with Carolyn, and wasted, I fear. Neither she nor I have opened the conversation that should have evaluated the session for its good and bad points. In fact, we have scarcely spoken since. Liz did ask me about the origin of my depression and as near as I can tell, it is now a frenzied numbness as a result of too much internalized hatred. She opened the subject of anti-depressant drug therapy, something worth thinking about. I am reminded of the Patty Duke movie Call Me Anna. I was going to ask if she meant Lithium, but didn't want to appear too eager for a drug fix. She told me to call if I begin to feel suicidal. I don't know if it counts but I have been fantasizing that I die in surgery on Friday. I am having my wisdom teeth pulled and have heard such wonderful stories of how quick and total an anesthetic it is. I keep thinking that if I should die during the surgery, I will not feel any more pain. I fear that I do not want to be married anymore. I long for romance & excitement & passion, but I think Carolyn knows me all too well for any mysterious liaison such as I am seeking. Perhaps I should really seek my true self and in that discovery I will come to realize what the real "I" wants from life. I am, however, a rather impatient chap and not familiar with the waiting game.
Pasted Graphic

March 20, 1991
Music - Theme from Mahogany "Do you know where you're going to? Do you like the things that life is showing you…?"
That just about says it all. I have become paralyzed by a phobic fear of life. I have missed 8 of the past 10 days at work. I am living in a daze. I have ceased communication with Carolyn and more frequently dream of being single. It no longer centers on a sexual theme, rather on a feeling of loneliness. A single person sometimes feels alone, a married person with the same feelings has them amplified simply because there is someone who should be there

March 23, 1991
I need to decide what I want out of my life. I don't think I want to be married (I sure as hell don't enjoy it) but I feel scared to commit to a decision. Actually, my biggest problem is that I feel as though I am basically a bad person. If history is any indication… I am rotten. We made a small breakthrough in my last therapy when Liz tried to tell Mathew that he is a good child. I stirred to hear those words as if for the first time. I never got that kind of validation from my parents and never believed it from Carolyn. It seems as if I try to prove to myself that I am bad. I remember stealing an insect assignment from a kid in 6th grade. I turned it in as my own, nearly crushing my teachers, Besler & Weirich. Pattern continues to today where I keep screwing up in the marriage to prove myself unworthy.

March 27, 1991
Well, I saw the infamous Dr. Swann today for anti-depressant medication. On the depression test of life - I failed. On the test for depression, I scored 10 out of 10, on the test for suicide, 8 out of 10, on the test for homicide (assault on others) 3 out of 3. Things seem worse now than they did this morning. I know I don't love Carolyn - I even found that I would miss her family more than I would miss her. She prescribed Trivial - a depressant to help me sleep and a stimulant to help me shake my fear of life. The bad news is that it may take weeks before I get any better. I had a talk with Laura Hehn from AVED today' she was saying how she thinks I am so important and how she would be so devastated if anything should happen to me, like if I should fall into a ditch and be covered with cement…
There once was a boy named Anthony. His parents came from a strange land where no one could show their face. Whenever a person had a feeling or a thought they wanted to express, he had to change the mask to reflect the new feeling. Little Anthony was raised following this custom and came to accept it quite naturally.
One day, Anthony left that land.
blog comments powered by Disqus