Personal Journal

Atrophy?

I’m finding my mind is having fits. I’m not sure what it’s missing. Solitude, to some degree. What I would give for a week of time for myself. I’d waste it, of course. I’d fritter it away sleeping and playing PC games, and probably painting.
I miss friends, having them, not any in particular. I have one friend, Cindy, but I haven’t seen her since April. Haven’t talked to her. There’s something about my current status in life that precludes me from having a life outside of Jean. The only thing I do is get out once a week to play a miniatures game, which is a nice distraction. I always miss her when I’m driving home, hoping she’s not been depressed without me around. She’s getting better at those brief separations.
She’s foregone friends of her own, and I think that weighs more heavily on me than she understands. Moreover, I know that she won’t take it kindly if I were to mention it. She doesn’t talk to people anymore, and her life revolves mostly, if not entirely, around me. I can’t say I resent her for it, because I don’t, but it is smothering. Even going upstairs to be by myself for a few hours when I’m agitated or just in general need of alone time spurs her to ask if I’m mad at her, etc.
I think I’m feeling enclosed. I couldn’t sleep in the bedroom last night. I had to sleep on the couch because I needed a change. I’m getting agitated, and I need something to take me out of it, though I’m not sure what can.
I need someone to talk to, to have intellectual debates with. My mind needs to stretch, and my heart needs familiar company.


It is never too late to be what you might have been. -- George Eliot
Courage to start and willingness to keep everlasting at it are the requisites for success. -- Alonzo Newton Benn