Okay, to the pool.

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I'm going to have to push it.  I've been up... ...  I've been up...  all night?  But when did I get up?  Was it 3:00, or 19:30, or 0:00?  Wow.  I just don't know.  Basically, this is bedtime.  But unlike Monday I don't have to push it so late if I can get going.  I have no idea how this is working.  Actually, it isn't working, it just happens to work out.  My sleep isn't on a schedule, it's on a sliding scale, but one without numbers or measures. 

I haven't heard back when my next lesson is yet.  But this time I want to have some shine to my swimming.  What I need at least as much as practice in what she has taught is a much healthier constitution, wind.  Only getting in there and kicking it out will provide that.  It isn't to impress her.  She works with real athletes, triathlon types.  Her husband is a college football coach.  And my guess she is an athlete, whether competing currently or not, she stays very fit.  No, not to impress, merely to use the resource she is to my best.  I do need to get fit, too.  Hard, fast, as fast as I can.  She can't help me if I am choking every half lap.  And I was gasping this last time.

It's raining today.  No problems there.  Unlike a week ago, it doesn't have that cold feel to it.  It is spring.  It feels like it.  A little sun would be nice, but for now this will do.  It looks like, if the weathermen can be believed, it will be clear enough Friday, but as the rain clears out the cold comes in.  If that is the case I will see what else my friend would rather do.  He really isn't into rain or cold.  Eventually we will get to the range.

Alright.  You really want to know who triggered this latest rant?  Me.  After having been questioned so harshly recently, several times, by others, I kept digging.  I couldn't stop.  I have my own doubts about things.  As I have said, I simply don't... know... not for sure.  I had to go over things.  I had to allow for... those doubts.  I had to kick the tires, sound things out.  In the end?  I've got what I've got, some of my memory is soft, some of it is solid.  Some of each are verified, some of each type of memory has no paperwork.  As to being delusional?  Who isn't to a degree.  Who isn't just plain wrong on some things?  But, as I suggested, if I am delusional I would not be able to see it.  In the end, without... testing, or feedback, or... something... I simply don't even know that.  I suspect, but then I would suspect.  In the end, as I suggested, either you, or I, believe, or we don't.  And, yeah, I believe, mostly.  It's as good as I can do.  I'll hit this spot from time to time.  No matter how solid we believe ourselves to be, we are walking in bigger or littler circles.  Even if you go straight, if you don't stop, eventually, by the nature of the earth's geometry, you will end up where you started, physically and metaphorically.  At least I am not considering ending the blog, innit?

While I am going through the deep analysis I hit a lot of potholes.  Do you realize how many things I have done that, now, bring me great shame?  Even things that were innocent, like missing a woman making a pass at me... if I was 14 at the time doesn't matter.  I had already had four lovers by then, I still don't know how I missed it.  She was pissed, too.  I think someone needed attention and wasn't going to get any for a while after the missed opportunity.  Then again, something about bold women not being taken seriously sets some of them off, especially damaged goods.  Some of it wasn't so innocent.  Some of it was little, some of it huge.  There is so much, even in the life of a cripple, to find shame regarding.  While I have given this over to Christ, I keep just enough, and mean to, in order to hopefully not repeat the worst of it.  But I need to take care, much like eating blow fish soup.  Thin, boy, shave that real thin.  It's poison to the soul otherwise.  Same with doubts.  But I have to check, I have to organize these things, I have to deal with it.  I think it is the only thing that keeps me sane, that checking.  Like a blind man with ptsd who checks the door locks but can't see so always has just a little bit of doubt, and might check them twice, both by feel and attempting to open the door as well.  Eventually you learn to trust, a bit, until the next attack, internal or external.  Even then, you don't know if they picked the lock or you forgot to lock the door.  If the problem is just your fear, you just go through it until it passes.  It is what it is.

Well, on to swimming.