I didn’t post anything yesterday. No real excuse. An impulse suggested I do it, and I indulged. I say “impulse’ but in full disclosure for a few days I’ve been having a desire to withdraw. Stop blogging, stop going to work, stop interacting with the outside world, curl up in my little room and veg until . . . I don’t know, until the cows come home.

Here’s what I can tell you. I’ve done this shit before. I can tell you this is a dangerous road to go down. It’s the early stages of a depressive stint. Precedent has me cloistering myself off and sulking away my life. Then, three, four, six weeks later, I break that funk. Later, I become disgusted with the situation, I start to retry. Retry living, for lack of a better term.

I can share with you that I hate it. The whole cycle. I always have. For as long as I can recall, I’ve participated in this ridiculous ritual. It’s very seductive to quit everything and not care, it also sucks nuts to have to restart all over again. To feel like I’m never able to really make progress.

I do know better. I know I should resist, I should redouble my efforts, reapply myself. But, and there is a “but”, when the motivation is not there the drain of constantly fighting one’s self saps a feller. Takes the starch right out of him.

I know this stuff is hard to read. Frankly, I’m embarrassed to put it out there. Borderline mortified. –Ever wonder why or how I’ve become so self obsessed? It’s shit like this and attempting to overcome through sheer strength of will.– Anyhow, here it is. If this blog should go cold or my absence noticed, you’ll know why. You can also be assured that I’ll be safe. I’ll just be drinking and video gaming in an orgy of dispassionate living. I time and I’ll recover from myself. I’ll even overcompensate with some productivity.