That's How You Get Ants

There are ants all over the apartment. In the sink, by the catfood. You don't see them at first, but then you'll go to wash a dish and find a line of them training from some crack in the wall down into the sink. They're there because I kinda stopped caring about the place, which is unfortunately a thing that I do sometimes.

This weekend obviously I'm going to try to do something to combat it all, but really -- until I start actually giving a flip about the garbage or my ever-worsening eating habits it's never gonna truly fix everything. Killing the problems you can see means nothing in a fight like this.

I'm really considering going back to therapy.

I haven't called anyone yet -- but I have a list of names. It's weird how I think it's scary, even though I've already been through it a few times. But there's really no way around the fact that whatever this is that I'm dealing with is much more than just the blues. I've got to find a way to fix it.

I think a big part of my issue is how I can look at things like going to therapy or cleaning my place or feeding my fish or playing my guitar or even trying to go out or seeking new people to meet and easily see recurring instances where I just gave up. It's something I can look back and find myself doing even as far back in college, which was ridiculous because I was young and there was life happening all around me, but there was a period where I just wouldn't leave that couch.

I hate talking about it, because it makes me feel like such a whiny little bitch. I mean really, who wants to read a blog post that's just petulant crying anymore. I'm a writer.. I can do better than this, right?

Once upon a time I used to chronicle feelings like this on a blog, and a beautiful woman found it and began reading until one day she reached out to me and made everything awesome -- but then.. then that went away too.

Getting Curren into this new school I think will help with his struggles, but it's a risk. He's getting old enough that just plugging him into a new fix isn't enough anymore -- he's got to want to do better. His attitude will dictate whether or not this change will work.

But if all I'm gonna do is mope and let the dishes pile up and just watch while ants crawl all over my place, what motivation does he have for giving a  crap about the things in his life?

I've got to do better.

[Now Playing:  Frank Ocean - "Pyramids" ]