May 29th, 2023 - The Soccer Balls of Mr. Kurz

Dear TNY,

It’s unusually a Tuesday as I type this because I missed a day due to driving, but I just “finished” “The Soccer Balls of Mr. Kurz”.

I put quotes on finished because I gave up.  This shit is a big fat NOPE.  And I don’t think I should have to fucking waste time reading it.  Nor should anyone else.  Maybe my brain is rotting out because I don’t even know what the fuck was happening in this story.  Just pure nonsense.

Anyway, I don’t want to write more about it.

I flew to the mainland last week.  The night before my flight, an intervention-style relationship talk occurred.  The end result was that I did Tacoma/van maintenance and a thousand miles of driving on my own.  Again.  Now I’m in Grand Junction. And I also did all of this without support from the person I wanted to want to help me.  The hardest thing I do all year.  Alone.  Again.

I don’t know what’s happening.  I’m exhausted. 

I don’t know how to say to someone, “My emotions/needs/personhood need(s) to matter more than yours some of the time.”  Especially if during that conversation the reaction to that statement will be an emotional response to negate the above statement (further training me to not say it, stuffing down all emotions and then having a mental meltdown later).  You know?  We aren’t playing a game of hot potato in relationships.  Shouldn’t be anyway.  We don’t need to see how fast we can turn the issue around and throw it at the other person.  We need to hold each other’s water (or potato if we are sticking with the metaphor) as long as we can.  We all could be better listeners. 

Anyway, this fucking story isn’t good.  Or maybe it isn’t for me.  And I feel the same way about life right now.  It’s either not good or isn’t for me.  And that’s fine I guess. 

I had a psych eval with a lady a couple of weeks ago and I haven’t been sad (until now) and she was like, “If those dark thoughts creep in, then make sure you let someone know,” and it’s like, I let EVERYONE know.  Fuck, I’m writing it to you, a letter you won’t read!  What it feels like is that it doesn’t really matter if you let people know if the support is a text saying:  That sounds hard.

It is hard.  Lots of people have it hard, though.  I’ll press, I guess.

I saw my children today.  I feel more distant from them than I have in a very, very long time.  I feel like a side character in their dream and their subconsciouses don’t have more energy to make me a bigger part of their narrative.  Or maybe that’s just me.

Fuck.

Later.

Nick