What to write about

Sometimes I have so many things going on in my head, I simply do not know what to write about. I know this sounds dumb but I am still mad at Oprah. If anyone watched her David Crespi interview, I think it is fair to say she lacked understanding and was ...well dare I say harsh? I think anyone who doesn't have first hand experience with depression would walk away from that episode with a very sour taste in their mouth and little sympathy for anyone dealing with mental illness. But I suppose I need to move on with my life. I am sure Oprah doesn't care. She's on to 75 million dollar houses.

I could write about how I keep checking my e-mail to see if I have gotten anything else from the man I love to hate. I had written quite a few posts before about a gentleman I refer to as Laney. Sometimes people are like a horrible poison in your system and it is so hard to rid yourself of their ill effects. I really shouldn't care if he writes or doesn't write but there I go every few hours checking. You know the holidays are coming up. You would think he would try once more... You would think if he did miss me he would try a little harder. But he's married and I'm married and I already know he's a jerk, but I keep checking my mail every few hours. When I think about it I know what I am really looking for. It's a reason to feel good. It's just like anything else I might do to feel good when I have felt bad for such a long time.

The closest I can come to describing that wonderful high sensation is to say it is like being in love. The teenager love at first sight, head over heels kind of love. I remember a crush I had when I was thirteen years old. I met a boy (whose name I don't even remember) at the beach. On that day and at that time he was the most handsome, funniest, nicest guy a thirteen year old girl could meet. My stomach was full of butterflies, my pulse raced and I could not contain the silly smile on my face. I had no need for food or sleep for several weeks, because my enthuasism carried me on clouds.

The best parts about Laney represent a better time in my life. Out of that relationship came an upside and that coupled with lust was like the purest, rawest energy I have ever felt. Now here I sit not making near the progress I had hoped. I am so tired. Honestly physically tired. I have napped the last three afternoons. If I did not have other commitments I would spend a month in bed. I just keep hoping the feeling comes back. And as illogical as it is, I imagine if I set the stage somehow I can recreate it.

I suppose I should get going. I need to check my e-mail one last time before I go to bed...