Frustration

The psychiatrist's office called me back today.  They gave me the first available appointment which is at the end of March.  It is a wonder that the suicide rate in Anderson county isn't the highest in the state.  The response time for the mental health facilities around here is a bad joke.  I'm not in such a condition that I would harm myself, but I'm sure there are plenty of people who are, and they probably aren't getting help any faster than I am.  At this point I don't even really want to talk to the doctor.  I just want him to give me some kind of pill to make me feel better.  I have this almost constant feeling that there is something I'm supposed to be doing.  I don't know what it is, but it feels important.  I get stressed out and frustrated that I know I need to do whatever it is, but I can't remember what I should be doing.  Then this knot of tension starts in my stomach and neck that makes me want to throw up.  Sometimes I get angry and have to struggle not to lash out at people, and other times my hands shake and I start crying uncontrollably.  The only thing that makes me feel better is working out until I'm exhausted, and that is starting not to work.  At first I felt okay for a couple of days, but now it doesn't last long at all.  I worked out last night from nine to ten o'clock, and I started feeling bad again not much more than twelve hours later.  At least I'm going to get in shape.

As it turns out, it was a mistake to try to have a theme in my blog posts.  No one is reading it, so of course no one is adding to it.  That makes it particularly difficult to react to and write about what is posted on my blog.  Now I kind of feel like I'm just writing in a diary or something since I am the only person that is actually seeing this.  When I was a kid my parents made me keep a journal; they thought I was too emotionally bottled up or detached or something.  They were right.  I wrote in my journal every day and never once metioned how I felt.  I know this because I found the journal about ten years later and read it.  I guess thte joke's on me... now I'm just waiting on a call back from a psychiatrist so I can hopefully figure something out so I will be able to do all of those emotion based things that adults are supposed to be able to do.  I should be able to control my temper.  I should be able to keep from crying at random inappropriate moments for no reason.  I should be able to be at least moderately happy on occasion so I don't have to fake it to keep from upsetting my wife.  I think I've needed to see a shrink for a while now, but it always seemed ridiculous to need someone else to help me get a hold of my emotions.  Now I can't wait to hear back from the psychiatrists office so I can go and maybe get at least a little normality back to my life.

I'm going to try to quit smoking.  That is not anything new in the fail category, but maybe I will really do it this time.  Mark Twain wrote "Quitting smoking is the easiest thing in the world; I've done it a thousand times."  I haven't tried a thousand times, but I've got my fair share of attempts under my belt.
I once quit for about a year.  I felt great and lost about thirty-five pounds in the process.  Quitting also decreased the number of headaches I got after a while.  So with all of these great reasons to quit why don't I?  Because I am weak willed enough to let an addiction to nicotine control my decisions.  This is one blog topic I really hope I can get right.

Fail number one... didn't have my blog posted by the deadline for my English class.  I went out with a friend this evening and forgot that I had this due.  So it is now about twelve thirty and I'm holding up a board game to do this.  We're playing Blokus, which is a really complex spacial strategy game that doesn't go well with a couple of beers.  Also, I'm half watching The Late Late Show while writing this, so my game is really suffering.  Maybe I'll get two fails in one night...  Several minutes later and I have successfully failed at beating Janice at Blokus.

Now that I think about it, since I am trying to fail at something each week for this blog, every failure is a success.  I think I accidentally achieved perfection by attempting to fail.  Since I am no longer capable of failure, I don't think I can write this blog anymore.  That will probably mean I will fail my English class, so I better stop philosophising and keep up the blog.