Good, just an ugly good.

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I am on the right side of life.  But a messy form of it.  Everything I do is an effort.  As good as things are, for the most part, I am on the line.  I know that just a bit more and I will be over that edge, drowning in pain and suffering.  That haunts my every decision, and has for weeks... months.  Despite that, I have worked to keep days and night in their right places, to take care of the girls, to take care of myself.  Sometimes I fail that latter, but I do okay with the rest.  Lots of slips regarding domestic life.  Though I think that is pretty typical for men.  If home life cannot be automated, it won't be very successful.

The world has certainly cooled.  I just wish I was feeling up to getting out.  It'll keep getting colder, but to a point where it is too cold.  Not too cold for my enjoyment, more that it will become too cold to get started in the first place.  Though, who knows.  If medicine gets back on track, and I don't have the doubt of all this over my head so can dig my way out, perhaps I can reactivate strongly.  When your medicine source doesn't mind lying to you and to your doctor's office, it's difficult to trust these people.  I wonder if my doctor would be able to test the medicine, to make sure I am getting what is written on the bottle.  Yeah... and just think, you'll be getting Zerocare soon.  Especially since Republicans politicians have figured out how to make money on the scam too, and won't be subject to it.

This week?  This day?  I'll keep trying to set things right, stay on medications as well as I am able, and look for opportunities to do more.  It is truly fantastic out there.  I feel like a kid who is really sick, so is kept inside.  Looking out on the world from his sickbed.  The closer to health I get, the worse that feeling.  And, I realize, just how long I have been locked away.  All of my adult life, mostly.  Much of that time I just didn't realize how locked down I was.  I was too sick to understand.  Lost, almost totally, in the shadows of living death.  That the realization rips me up, actually, is a symptom of an improvement... a vast one.  How terrible is that?

On with my day.  Be well.