Not entirely sure how I missed aday of journal-entry, but I did somehow. In any event, It's not like I have a lot to report: my life can get pretty bland at times. I wish there were more going on at times, but I would also want to have total control of those types of things. Not a realistic assessment of living, to be sure. No one can control all the little details, the day-to-day challenges and situational challenges that rise up in our paths. Maybe I should be thankful for slow, quiet days, except I spend time worrying that the calm is just the lull before the storm hits. I'm coming to the conclusion that I am suffering from a form of depression, and the thought makes me sick to my stomach with dread. I'm 40, a single parent with a teenager who has emotional issues of his own, and the most dysfunctional family relationship there can be. I blame no one for the mess of my life but me. I am not educated, and it is by my own doing. I am not financially secure, and this is by my own doing. I am divorced, and I had everything to do with that. There is no force in the Universe to take blame here, but me. I try not to lapse into self-pity, but it is hard not to at times. Sometiomes, you don't even recognize self-pity for what it is. You get too caught up in self-loathing, and self-destruction, and miss the Pity part. Well, this is not where I thought my journal entry would go today, but here it is. Maybe I should listen to some music to lighten my spirits. I know better than to keep Jesus And Mary Chain at work, and I try to avoid Love & Rockets, Bauhaus, Smiths, Sisters Of Mercy, Joy Division, Ministry, or New Order while I am work as well. I really need to turn myself around before the Holidays hit, or I am going to become dangerously close to being a Holiday statistic.

Another week is upon us. So far, things are off to a "normal" start: the Boy got on the bus to school (where hopefully, he will behave himself), I made it into work ontime, and the day is progressing at a normal pace. Let's see if it'll stay that way. Had a fairly pleasant weekend: could have been better, but it could also have been much much worse.

Well, October is creeping along, slowly and steadily. New situations seem to crop up every day, and unresolved ones sit and stink like rotten eggs in the July sun. I can't decide if I'm in a depression, or if I'm simply getting lazy about living. If I were truly depressed, shouldn't I have more self-destructive or even suicidal feelings and thoughts? Maybe I'm using depression as an excuse because I'm feeling overwhelmed and unable at times to cope. I try to make myself keep up on things, like dishes, trash, cleaning my bathroom, stuf like that, just to keep me from letting all that stuff slide. At times, I don't even want to read my beloved comic collection. I bought a box and 100 bags-&-boards yesterday, and totally used them all, which means it's been over a month since I last took care of those things,which is particularly odd since I've been cutting down on the titles I read. I think I may need help sorting out my head, and I'm rational enough to ask for it.

Had a good time last night, having dinner with a friend and classmate whom I hadn't seen in over 20 years. She too has gone through some family troubles recently, but things seem to be going well for her at the moment. I am encouraging them to make the most of their vacation here in the Old Dominion. My apartment is a mess in preparation for work on my ceilings to repair a water leak, and clean away black mold. I slept on my couch as a result of having my entire closet on my bed. The situation with my son is still largely heart-rending and frustrating. He was behaved well enough at dinner, and we enjoyed a moment watching the King Kong cartoon series from my childhood. Work is work: maddening at moments, frustrating at other moments. Hectic and stressful.

Missed yesterday, and not entirely inadvertantly. Been feeling very stressed and depressed. Having issues with my 14 year-old, and they are escalating. He seems to be both willing and able to push my buttons, and his passive aggressiveness towards me has grown hostile. At times, he's daring me to lash out so he can take some osrt of action. It's hard to watch your Baby go through this sort of thing. I can't describe what it is like to look at the face of the little angel and see a smug arrogant smirk as he taunts you into violent inaction and seems to delight in my frustration. I've had a few other elements contribute to what is building into a massive depression. At this moment, I seem to be able to stay rational more often than not, and am trying to set up a safety valve and support system so I don't end up on the ropes, or on the edge, or worse. My situation at home isn't all bad: I do have good friends who are caring and supportive.

Once again, I am at a cross-roads with my son, and I am simply going to have to reach out for help if I am going to salvage, repair, re-build and strengthen our relationship at all.

I am not in fact superstitious about Friday The 13Th. I have no desire to dwell on the negative portions of the night before. Just know there were some, and they involved my teenaged son. I did however have a wonderful night of sleep. I held onto a vision; a dream. A living dream, and it sustained me in a period of darkness. The morning came all too quickly.

Spent a good part of last night going over some old drawing I did in an Expressive Therapy group back in my high school years. I had the opportunity to to take Expressive Therapy during my year as an in-patient at a psychaitric treatment center, during my Sophmore year. My Junior year was spent in a bad place, while my Senior year crashed and burned. In any event, I was able to revisit some of my youth, and relive some memories; some good, some bad, many bittersweet. It was a good way to remember who I was then, and how far along I'd come in life, and yet sometimes, not so far at all. So many things transpired in life for me that year (including: my first kiss, my first "second base" score, my first real girlfriend, my first betrayal by a real girlfriend, and more). I had to learn to cope with loss, rejection, defeat, and inevitability. I had occasions to try and fail, and occasions to learn too late that I might have tried elsewhere, if only I had known better. (for the record of my life, Karen, I'm sorry I found out too late: I'm sure we'd have been good. Fonda, I'm sorry we found out 11 months too late that we had a spark.) Okay, enough looking back: Going Forward.

Okay, that anorexic entry from early-morning notwithstanding. There is so much on my mind, I feel like the top of my head is going to come off. Unfortunately, no Pallas Athena coming out. It has been some time since I have let the affairs of my friends impact me quite like this. The subject of helping, as in helping a friend through a difficult time, came up, and in fairly heavy and serious light. I maintain however: if the person in question wants to change, wants to accept the help, then things can get better, no matter how bad they may seem. I've seen die-hard junkies kick their habits cold-turkey, but only because they wanted to get clean. By that very virtue: if the person in question doesn't want to change, and won't accept the help,. then rifles and bombs won't change them. There is a time of separation coming on the horizon, or maybe not. Hard to say now.

Arrrgh! Well, my night came to an unusual conclusion. If I wasn't confused before, I'm totally off-kilter now. It's 03:35 and I have no business being up, yet I can't seem to get to sleep (hence the late-night/early morning journal entry). Damn It. More later: Going forward. I find it somewhat necessary to point out (for myself, mostly), that I had spent part of the night before, most of that day, and the night thereof, worrying about someone. I saw them later, learned what I needed to know, and heard what I did not want to hear. In any event, things get confusing from here going forward, as the events of the night of 11-October-2006 prove. I am not sure what "got into me", but I wasn't alone in it. It's more, much more than purely physical, but the physical part is certainly a huge part of it all. Things might have been simpler if it had merely been physical: fewer emotions tangled up in the whole thing.