I am weak of character.
You can take every personal entry I have made in this fucking blog over 11 fucking years, everything I said about myself and thought about myself, the things I complained about in my life - you can take every single fucking entry and delete them. And replace them with that one short sentence.
I am weak of character.
I am an insanely emotional and sensitive man. I am proud of that. I call that being alive. But when emotion gets in the way of rational expression it is a fucking liability.
I have enormous respect for my brother. He has survived things in his life that would shatter a lesser person, myself among them. He keeps on picking up the pieces and moving forward. He lives a good life. Everyone respects him, everyone loves him.
The shit that destroys me is miniscule. It is nothing. And it is within my control to overcome it. But I don't.
Ed sat at one end of the table on Sunday, me at the other, which is only appropriate. We are the elders. But his end of the table was represented by an intelligent and rational man. Mine was represented by an emotional cripple. I never felt the gulf between us as widely as I did that day.
I don't know why I have never solved the problems that diminish my life. There is no rational explanation. Except to say that I am weak, I am a coward, I am lazy. I don't know. Feel free to identify other character flaws. I won't mind.
Could be I enjoy wallowing in self-made misery, that I have no intention of wading out of it, that I expect you to empathize with my suffering; that I want you to.
Is that even possible? I think it might be. How does one unravel a twisted psyche?
Sunday really knocked me off balance. I don't know why. Why that particular day? Why that particular moment? That particular situation?
No answer for that.
Do you think I am stupid enough to say that this is the breaking point? This is the moment when I take charge of my life? Like I have said 11,000 times before?
No fucking chance.
I got nothing to say.
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