I can't get to sleep... plagued by self-pity:
"Nobody gives a rat's ass about me!"
"Nobody ever calls...(Not even family)"
"I could just disappear, and they wouldn't notice for weeks, months, maybe years..."
I have some health issues cropping up - today I had a cyst cut out of my scalp, my feet have some weird rash that's not getting better with the doctor's ointment, and my doctor wants me to get a colonoscopy because of some recurring rectal bleeding.
I'm in limbo with my finances. I'm waiting on more hours from both jobs. I think my credit cards are overdrawn. I do have some extra months paid on the health insurance and the phone service, though. Still, I'm trying to juggle paying for food and paying for rent; and I'm not doing a good job in either arena.
My life line these last couple of years has been board games and role playing games. They give my mind challenges to work through, and there's some social interactions, and they take my mind off of my real-world problems for a couple of hours.
I don't have a clear picture of what my writing goals are. I'd like to assemble a poem for each day of the year, but I'm not sure I want to sift through the pile of rough drafts that I have.
I feel like quite the pariah and outcast in Alcoholics Anonymous; and, ironically, I'm 12 years sober. I've reached out about it, in the past, here and elsewhere; and I usually get chided for being too much of an introvert, or not taking enough action... At this point, I feel like I'm just plodding through, trying to make three meetings a week to meet my sober house's requirements.
One of my fears is to die alone and neglected. ...and yet, I do enjoy large chunks of my time, "doing my own thing".
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