May 30th, 2002

The gentleman is always properly dressed

I think I died last September

In those rare moments when I’m lucid, when I actually stop to feel, moving out from my protective haze, the pain is so intense as to be overwhelming. I feel increasingly desperate and abandoned, unclear on how it is that I’m supposed to make any of this work. The regret and despair are so palpable that they seem almost a physical weight, pushing down on me, forcing my face back under the water. I’m drowning.

There is a growing realization that so long as this thing is with me, I will have no peace. Better, every time I manage to reach something resembling equilibrium, they will find some way to hound me again, throwing me into yet another fit of despair, reminding me of just how much I’ve lost. Sadly, to say that they engage in a kind of psychological warfare is probably giving too much credit. I’m trapped by a bureaucracy that claims an elaborate moral justification for its actions, but really works only to its own ends.

The crazy thing is that what’s been hitting me lately is not that I have a situation that I don’t know that I can live with. No, that’d be far too simple. I’ve been dwelling on the idea that most of you have known me only in the aftermath. No, I can’t say that I was ever a model human being before my karmic wheel spun, but I do think that there was some fundamental difference in me. It makes me incredibly sad that the only person you’ve known has been little more than one of the walking dead. I feel like I should have been a better friend, or at the very least more joyful, more patient, and more alive.

At any rate, I guess this is by way of saying I’m sorry. You may not have any realization of it, but I’ve let you down in ways I can’t begin to describe.
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