Twitter Sized in Book Six: Trying to Hold On 2019

This is me furious. I e-mailed the local therapist stating “Hey, I e-mailed you last Monday and haven’t had a response yet. Please reply. I would really like to get something scheduled before October.” NOTHING. I texted my wife asking when we find out about the Genetic Testing she had done to see if she is at an extremely elevated risk for Breast Cancer. She has not texted back. Because she never texts back. Because responding to a message from me might seem like she’s willing to do even the bare goddamned minimum of “etiquette or manners” to so much as even keep a friendship going let alone a fucking marriage.

I’m… depressed. Because I would REALLY LIKE IT for somebody in my proximity to fucking care. I have family and friends. I do. They’re 100 miles away, but whatever. So… I’m depressed. My entire life consists of a job that I love doing… but poisons my heart by showing me the worst of humanity and those people saying, “I’ve done nothing wrong.” So… the worst of humanity and unrepentant. And other than my job? Is my marriage. A marriage that is absolutely crumbling. Because my Wife doesn’t cook, doesn’t show affection, doesn’t engage in ANY WAY. I have a room mate who is leeching off of me and using my money to go to school, live a life of no responsibilities, and just float through her own existence. Other than that? Nope. No local friends. No nearby man or woman to tell me that I’m a catch. I mean… I maybe don’t even need that necessarily but as much as I appreciate well-read and good-writing Internet Strangers tell me nice things… there is a significant difference when it is someone flesh, blood, and corporeal. I mean… I could buy a dozen H-Games for “beautiful non-corporeal people to tell me I’m great”. But I don’t want that. I want someone in my life to say “You’re doing great. You’re loved. You’re wanted.” And… I don’t have that. And it bothers the fuck out of me. And makes me feel very lonely.