I can grow so jealous of my father. He seems the pinnacle of perfection. He's wealthy. He's fiercely independent. He's mentally competent. He has a nice home and plenty of cars. He has a successful business. He is an accomplished diplomat and community figure. He has two children that are doctors of internal medicine. He has a vivid and outgoing social life. He takes care of all my mother's needs. He makes it all look so easy. I am jealous of that and the aplomb with which he seems to live his life.
Fundamentally, something was always amiss with me. I could never think of the future or of consequences. I was aloof in social situations. I bumbled through life like a bull in a china shop. I could never think of a job as a way to support myself. I always worked because it was socially acceptable. It was expected of me. I could never see it as an end to a means. My family didn't help by always bailing me out of adverse situations. I never learned how to handle life on it's own merits. This has left me an adult child. It is left me unsure of how to live or why -- the most fundamental of life's reasons.
Now, the little things are escaping me. For example, I awoke at 8:00 AM. The first thing I did was drink a diet coke and smoke a cigarillo. I didn't think of bathing or eating. I have yet to eat and just don't feel hungry. My mind feels busy with all these thoughts I want to write and blog about. I have written over five blog posts this morning and didn't publish them. I feel like a man obsessed. I reached out this morning, though, sending numerous emails to Easter Seals. "Help me!" I pleaded. Someone please help me. I feel out of control and like I am losing my mind. I need some structure to my days and a reason for living. There has to be something more than a blog and the Internet.