The me that got away.

So it's evident, I would hope, that I've not been blogging nearly as much in the past couple months. I mean, I did my reading, and then, almost immediately after that, the regular blogging just stopped. It stopped because I wanted to work on other writing. It stopped because I got in trouble at my office job for excessive Internet use. It stopped because I wanted to move forward from the "Things to Do ..." list, even though I enjoyed writing it and knew that was what the majority of my regular readers were coming here for (because it was the only feature on this site that I actually promoted and the only featured that appeared regularly).

Something has happened to me, and I don't know how to explain it. I've lost track of who I am versus who I want to be. I don't know what I should be writing about, and I don't want to just spin my wheels writing the same shit anymore. I want progress and change, and I don't know how to get to that - except to stop what I've been doing.

I should probably go back to therapy, but I have bills to take care of before I can even consider doing that. Plus, I don't really want therapy, and I'm being particularly stubborn about that this time around. My problem here lately, so much as I can pin it down, is that I'm not supposed to be this guy that I am.

I'm not supposed to be unmotivated. I'm not supposed to be such a mess. I'm not supposed to be unsuccessful. I'm not supposed to chase after the 40,000th bachelor who didn't want me. I'm not supposed to not know what to write. I'm not supposed to be a guy who can't write a resume. I'm not supposed to have constantly sore legs or a swollen-looking face.

I didn't used to be this guy, in fact. I used to carry much more promise than I now do. I don't even really recognize myself anymore. I'm rude, and I'm kinda mean. And I believe a lot of the bad things I say about myself, like that I'm "no one's type" or that I actually should apologize as much as I do.

What's happened to me? What's going to happen to me?

Some guy last week seemed to actually see me, actually like me, actually be attracted to me. He kissed me, and I hadn't realized that I'd not been kissed in ages - and I mean really kissed, by someone who looked at me as someone of beauty and wanted to be there in the moment.

My back hurt all last week. One night I went without sleep. I've regained the ability to cry, and it hits me at odd moments when I'm considering odd details. I was sick this weekend with a fever, and I felt relieved about the opportunity to just stay in bed.

I don't know what's happening to me. The blog's still up. Thank you for reading it.

This isn't an attempt at "Woe is Me." This is something of a cry for help, I guess. I need help. I mean, I have my friends, but I just didn't realize how lonely I had become.