It's Not a Blog, So Much As an Interlude

    Sorry, readers. All nine of you (I wish that was a joke). I'm having a rough time, and I can't think of anything to write about other than just ... bad things. But I I don't want to keep blogging about being sad, or being angry, or hating anyone, or being in pain. It was an outlet for some of that and it did help me vent off some of that stuff, but it's not what I wanted this blog to be.
   I feel like I'm lucky even to have nine readers with the stuff I've been putting out. And I'm sure you guys don't like reading some of it. I don't blame you. I just don't know if I can write anything good right now. It's like I've said all I can say the only thing I still have is just to sit down and stare off into space until I forget that I'm alive. That's what I've been doing all day, except for a couple of conversations through text messages.
   I apologize for sounding like I'm despairing, but I think I am. I feel weak, and tired, like any minute I'm going to lay down and close my eyes and leave this world. The things keeping my mind in place at all are a handful of people split up between here and home, and I love them and appreciate their patience as I've been indulging in self-loathing.
   I'm trying to look ahead, and see a future for this blog, but I don't know. I can count on my fingers the number of readers I have, and even those few have to settle for me complaining every day or two instead of actually writing something enjoyable.
   It's funny - for a few seconds at a time today, off and on, I've been almost happy. I talk to my psychiatrist again tomorrow .... I wonder what he will say.

Broken Brain