i am half an ironman
I did it.
Dead last in my age group, but I did it.
Go me.
——-
After the thing I got food. I lost my wetsuit but found it.
At home I relapsed and watched porn. It reminded me of her. My orgasm wasn’t that great. Came too quick.
Felt shame and guilt and disappointment for watching it. Should have just thought about it.
It reminded me of the time we were in [redacted] and had [redacted] in front of the full length [redacted].
I felt like she was mine and I was hers.
Sigh.
I got a massage today. I talked to the masseuse. I regret doing that. It made it less relaxing.
The massage place was a spa. It had some saunas and a steam room and a cold tub and a hot tub.
It was nice. My legs feel better. Not 100%, but better.
I’m in a library now. I didn’t want to go home. Too much stuff to organize and put away there.
It makes me uneasy. I’m avoiding it. Need to do the laundry. My arch nemesis.
I know I’ll feel better with it done, but damn, is it a big hill to climb. And I’m tired.
I’m feeling discouraged and disconnected today.
I wish accomplishing things made me feel better. But it doesn’t. It just makes me think it will fix me.
The event was good but the social scene around it was… strained? No, not strained. Something else.
Different personalities. History. Different stages of life. Different priorities. Different ideas. Different tensions.
Yesterday I got angry on the way home. Something coming to the surface deep inside I think. Half ironman left little behind to filter it down.
I wanted to punch the mirror in the car. I wanted to clock my dad. I just growled and yelled by myself driving down the highway by myself.
Same drive I’ve driven a hundred thousand times. Same places I grew up with. So familiar and yet so foreign.
This month I felt seen. And then I felt like everything I do and value and work for just…. doesn’t matter.
The values, the reality, I grew up with just doesn’t exist anymore. It’s all changed. The people have changed. The situation has changed.
It’s a new play.
Same actors different roles.
New producers, new director, new direction for the theatre.
Is this grief? Is this growing up? Is this just life?
I wish it was less confusing. Less complicated.
I wish, I wish, I wish… I wish I could let it go. Move on. Move forward. Not get so swept away in my past; in the past; in the far off fantasy of some potential future.
Day dreaming. Dissociating. Slowly dying.
So sad.
Crying.