Saturday, July 12, 1997 -- Square one
Somewhere, I heard a bit of folk wisdom. "You are doomed to repeat your mistakes until you solve the problem."		I'm sitting here at my desk at home. I was playing with some graphics software a few minutes ago, when Mom called. I knew she was going to be calling, she called last night while I was out walking, and I chose not to call her back. My parents tell me I'm always doing badly when I don't call them, that that is when they worry. I just wasn't ready to talk to her about all the things I didn't get done this week. One of the things I didn't get done, was to get the receipts for the bail from the bondsman. Mom told me on the phone, "Do you have the receipts so I can get my money?" I can't give Mom her money back. She can't get it until august 15th, the court date. I got the bondsman's name wrong, and Mom got mad, "You don't even know his name!" "Do you even know what company he works for?" "NO," I say, "I don't." I wish I'd remembered that I had it at work, but I was feeling too defensive to think. Mom hung up on me. I sat here, and thought for a few minutes. I could call her back, and attempt to explain. I won't, however. Part of me just doesn't want to give her the satisfaction. I know, it's petty, and I've hung up on them before, when I was really angry. I could apologize, but really the best apology is solving the problem. I wasn't really focused on it this week...we can't get the money back until the court date, anyway. I'd like to say I was busy working on other things this week. I really just tried to ignore my problems. I didn't call the public defender,or do any of the other little tasks I set for myself. I didn't even really get much work done. I've been to this point in my life before. That's what's really bothering me. No, I've never had this particular set of problems, or the particular good things in my life going on that are going on now. But I keep coming back to a point in my life, where I just say to myself. "How does it happen that I'm so happy and so sad at the same time?" For the immensely good always comes with the immensely bad for me. And the bad that comes, I usually invited or caused. Bad things have happened to me uninvited in my life. My grandmother's stroke and my epilepsy to name a couple. But the vast majority of my problems come from one single source. Me. I don't hate myself...I might be a little bit depressed. I'm angry at that self-destructive, "Ignore it and it'll go away" side. Some of my friends have told me that I'm a good guy, and all that. That things will get better, that these are problems that can be dealt with. No biggee. Yeah, but each set get's progressively worse. One of these days I'm going to really get into a major mess. Hell, I may be in one now, and just not know it yet. They jut don't see the pattern yet. Two years ago, I sought counselling. My main reason then was because I was acting irrationally, and didn't know why. I knew my medicine worked. I knew taking it would keep me from having a seizure, and that it was a simple thing to do. I even did it, most of the time. But occasionally I'd forget, or just not do it, for several days. I ultimately had a seizure in the office, frightening everyone. That's when I got the counselling. The counselling help a little, but I still had problems. Eventually, I left Greensboro, and quit the counselling. She was convinced that I would be fine, things were going right for me, and so on. I believed her, I trusted her to know about those things. I think she was wrong, but I have some experiences to back it up. I'm going to call the bisexual support group this week, and see if I can get another therapist. One I know is bi-friendly, and will help me deal with this thing I do. You know, this sounds so trite. I mean I know what I need to do, right? I know it's necessary, I'm convinced of it, I agree with the proposal. I'm almost afraid to face it. I come up with constant excuses, I procrastinate. And on Saturdays and at night, when there's no way to deal with the problem, I wonder why I did it. Folks, I hope I'm being coherent. It's hard to explain something you don't understand. But I keep trying. After all, the number one thing I don't understand is myself, and that's what this journal is about. Generic Joe's A Typical Male