Saint Pat's

It's Saint Patrick's Day, and just over 24-hours since I had my first real appointment with a shrink. OK, ok. Something tells me she wouldn't like being called a shrink. But, she did tell me to write, and something opening the Pandora's box means getting nicknames you're not aware you have.

My shrink likes that I write. She encourages me to write. She thinks I've got shame and guilt issues, and that's true. So, she says, write it out. Write out your judgmentalness.
I expect what will happen after I write it out is I will look at it and see how stupid it really is and hopefully stop doing it. Wouldn't that be nice?

My life has changed in more ways than I count since I last blogged here. Clearly...or I would not be shelling out $150 a session for a shrink, hell or high water. I don't blog on myspace anymore...Mighty D is right, it's a sinking ship. I may or may not move some of my blogs over here...truth is, I have on more than one occasion considered deleting f*cking all of them. If you'd ask me to do that a year ago, or two years ago, I would've cried at the thought. Those blogs contain the pieces of me that I didn't let slip away these last four years.

I'm back now. I don't need them anymore, and I consider that progress. And progress in the face of almost certain annihilation is better than nothing. Wow...I just called my life/marriage certain annihilation. It certainly felt that way sometimes.

Since I'm still not sure who can view this, I think personal detail will probably have to be limited here and I will try to maintain the purpose of this blog which is to exercise my honesty with myself, something I have neglected half to death for far too long.

Since when did it become so hard to accept oneself for what we are? It just seems fundamental, and to have f*cked up something fundamental makes me feel retarded and stupid.

Maybe that will be my first prompt.