Sunday, May 08, 2005

Backside 180: a blog of torment and pleasure, mostly torment

While I was running the other day, I contemplated changing the name of the blog. I was thinking something like: backside 180: a blog of torment and pleasure, mostly torment. I think that pretty much sums it up for me. I don't think I'm going to change the name, but I did consider it for about a mile.

Life has been pretty rough the last week or so. Finals have been bearing down upon me and delivering quite a beating. Things with N are no on the upswing this week (yes, I realize it changes on a weekly basis.) She has started seeing the Dude again, and for whatever reason, that is really hard for me. For a while, I was starting to annoy her and I think that is what drove her to him. So, she has been spending large amounts of time, including nights, with him and I have been spending more time alone. It wears on me.

At the moment, I have a decidedly pessimistic view about life and the world. I'm in need of something to pull me out of this funk.

Thursday night, after the bathroom incident, I went to bed sad. On Friday, deciding that I was tired of others putting me through so much torture, I would be the one to inflict some pain on myself. I went for a run with the intention of running for about 40 minutes. As I reached my turnaround point, I decided to press on. In the end, I covered 7.1 miles in 1:02:01. It was a good run, but I paid for it yesterday. Maybe it was the direct sunlight and the heat, but after only fifteen minutes, I felt as though I was going to pass out.

Last night, I went out and shot some pool with a friend, we talked and tried to drown our sorrows away. I'm starting to learn, at least for me, that it doesn't really work. Not only do I feel just as shitty mentally in the morning, but I also feel beaten physically.

Maybe some time in the garden this afternoon, spend weeding, watering, and tending to my plants will provide some therapy.

It doesn't help the situation that today is/would be our 3rd anniversary. I don't understand why I care if it seems she doesn't. I don't understand how she can detach herself so easily but I can't. Why do I hold on to nothing more than strings of hope?

Mood: Grey
Music: Dave Matthews - Stand Up

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