15-05.24.99 in Book Two: The Fifteenth Year of the Third Millennium of the Common Era

First Portion 3:50 am

Grumph. An excess of pain through my lower back and left leg added to an already sleepless night. And as I attempt to will myself to accept the pain and move forward, it grows to all the other familiar points. Sleep will not come to me tonight. But the biting pain has allowed me to stay up and do some more PB Catch Up Reading.

Though, as often happens… as has always happened… in my restless night of sleepless existence where every sensation but pain seems false and every internal struggle is met with suspicion… my mind turns. To explain, when trying to force your body to sleep… only to be confronted with a hundred points of pain… any idea that crosses the mind must be counted as suspect. Is this something I’m honestly feeling or is this caused by my attempts to override basic human impulses? So… perhaps foolishly, I only trust those emotions and concerns that are most familiar… the ones that I have experienced before. And now… it is the same self-critical question I’ve always asked.... “Aren’t you sick of always the same?”

In college, I was always trying to find the girl. After all, my last High School experience had been one of sexual assault, physical assault, and very severe genuine concern for my life. I so badly wanted a college experience to show me that dating needn’t be like that. To remind me that dating could be exhilarating and fun and safe. But when added to my No Sex and No Alcohol rules… I didn’t find it. And complained and fretted and wrung my hands over the situation.

Now, I’m always coming to the realization that my wife isn’t a wife. Even on rare nights (like Sat) where she arrives home from work and doesn’t launch into a vicious cycle of hate and rage… I am of little importance to her as anything but a servant. Someone to fetch her things or cook her things. Not someone with whom to have a conversation; not someone with whom to physically engage; not someone deserving of respect or to be made to feel like an equal. And as that rolls through my head… I realize I’m sick of complaining about it. I’m sick of having the same story every week. Just as I was in college. But then I consider what being sick of that feeling created....

College. Tired of being the Solo Loser, He Who Is Picked On, the laughable virgin, etc… I realized that despite all the Women’s Studies Majors claims… women would never be the pursuers. So I attempted to bolster myself again. Attempt to conquer the fear and the pain that HS built. I liked H and so I pursued… no flat denial but certainly the “lets be friends because I want to complain about guys to you.” I didn’t like B and she tried to be all over me all the time as her self-esteem was gathered by conquest. I appreciated her honesty and straight forwardness but… you know what Francois de La Rochefoucauld says about love, eh. Then there was Thompson and I thought… okay. Something that could work… and that ended in so many burned bridges and sour feelings I’m still paying for it. Then… Wife.

It all just… comes down to it. I feel like I sit in a sewer for so long that I don’t realize I don’t need to be there. But as soon as I stand up, I fall right back into another sewer. Though… as I mentioned before… maybe this is one of those thoughts I should be suspicious of because of the pain. Quite a l o n g first portion for today, eh?

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I took a sleeping pill w/ a whiskey and coke last night because the pain/sleeplessness was so crushingly bad. But that had me sleep until 5 pm :(

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When I woke up and came out to the living room, Wife was watching “Trailer Park Boys.” I asked how her day off had been going… to which she said “Conscious.” Nice. A few hours later, I made us dinner. But we’ve spent the whole evening staring at the television. Honestly makes me feel like I’m being a bad husband. Because… I’m not working today, she’s got the day off.... we should be doing something, right? At least… talking or interacting or going somewhere or doing something? I mean… just sitting next to one another watching television… it seems like the wrong thing to do, y’know? With how distant we are and how fucked our relationship is… it seems like we should spend days like this doing something together… growing as a couple or building our relationship. Instead of watching TV and Horror Films and just sitting next to one another staring at a flickering box. Granted… we discuss elements scientifically… like bonding pairs in animals and films as reflections of tribal mythologies or the backwards marketing in Comic Book movies. So… nice intellectual conversations amongst movies and such but… I still just felt like a failure as a husband for some reason.

FOOD

3:45 am:
Plate of Meatloaf
Glass of Whiskey & Coke

5:00 pm:
Weight Watcher’s Cereal
Milk

8:00 pm:
Fishsticks
Whiskey and Coke
Carrots