The funny thing about secrets

Is that they have a way of coming out at the worst possible time.

I remember when I was 18, and I exposed myself, told all. I haven't had a secret since. Secrets are weapons your enemies can use to hurt you, a weakness that can destroy you. I hold the secrets of others... People I barely know, and those I know well. I hold them in a vault where no one can get at them, because I know that I was trusted with these secrets, and their release could truly hurt the person on the other side.

I'm not a malicious person, not often, and I try not to be truly evil, though I know deep down, I am. However I've always been Machiavellian in my thinking, in how I view situations and the world. In the Prince, a book written by Machiavelli, he asks, "As a ruler, is it better to be feared, or loved?" and answers it, that it is better to be feared. A Ruler who is loved is adored, but a ruler who is feared is respected. No one strikes against someone they fear, but the world is full of examples of people hurting the ones they love.

Which is a introduction to the announcement of one of my favorite shows closing their third season. David Duchovny's Californication ended season three on sunday. I won't lie, I cried. Such a powerful moment from such a colossal fuck up. I empathize with the situations Hank Moody gets into. As bad as it is for me to admit that, and perhaps even worse to admit that his midlife crisis from hell reminds me of my youth.

Too bad he's got the successful author thing up on me though, and it doesn't help that, well, he is David Duchovny... That man looks good. Still, I had some tears pop up at the end of the third season, that shattering moment where the secret is exposed, and his world collapses. I find myself waiting now, with baited breath, for season four, only thinking, "How in all of gods name is he going to fix this?"

The job hunt is fruitless, that being said, I've begun another approach that is likely going to be as much a failure as the 5 applications a day approach. What that approach is, of course, is a secret, at least until it blows up in my face, or pans out.

It took me an extra week to get my check this month because of confusion, mess ups, and the post office fucking with me. That being said, the money that welfare shells out doesn't even cover rent, let alone bills. I've been selling odds and ends, scrounging, digging into savings that I didn't even know existed, just to make rent and get by. That being said, I'm at the end of the line.

I have no idea how rent is going to be made in january, even a job dropped at my feet right now would be hard pressed to actually pass what is required to keep things going. Behind three months on hydro, going on two months on the phone, internet is just at one month. I'm trying, am pushing things through that simply don't fit, and yet as it comes to pass, bit by bit, it is seeming more and more fruitless.

That being said, the endless hopelessness of my situation, such as it seems, is not nearly so bad as the creeping up illness which has plagued my mind for the better part of a decade or more. The depression, the sinking feeling of "woe betide the horrors of life" that infects my thoughts, and just gains momentum as things happen and good fades to bad leads to worse and opens way to horrid.

Maggie and I aren't talking. Which perhaps is not accurate, that we are talking, via long letters back and forth (well, me, her, me so far)... This prompted because she doesn't see me as trying in this relationship, doesn't see me as putting in effort and that she seems to be the only one trying to make it work.

Maybe she's right. I know she deserves better than me. Hell, I can't even sleep without thinking about some kind of self-destructive scenario a dozen times over. That is an understatement for the records.

I try and write, and it fails me at every turn, I try and better myself, and there seems to be nothing to better, because it is all so far in the shit hole that it's not even worth digging out. I mean I've gotten to the point of being inventive with thoughts of a stove element and shot gun shell, without a gun.

Ignore that... I already know I'm fucked up, and most of my readers know as well. Those that don't, welcome to the pity party, you can check your coats at the door, and the poking sticks are in the corner, just remember to jab at my fleshy areas for best results.

My first appointment with a shrink is thursday at 1:30pm. My first of hopefully, likely, probably, many. I don't even know how they are going to work, or if they are going to work. I intend to be as honest with her as I can be... After all, they're supposed to be there to help me, and lying, concealing, and omitting things hurts no one but myself.

That being said, I'm going to go watch Old Dogs... I haven't seen Robin Williams in a movie in years... I hope it is worth the download.

So in the meantime, cheers.

Chris.

This is a PS change, because I don't want to go back and rewrite certain segments to include it etc..... As of today, I am holding in my hand my first EI claim check. Guess I was approved for unemployment. Thank the gods for something working the way it is supposed to.