Petering Out, Retreating

"Taking good care of you means the people in your life will receive the best of you rather than what is left of you."  

- Lorriane Cohen

It felt like a really long day, as I was away from home for much of it. I came home tonight after work to my little girl who was eager to leap into my arms and greet me to give me my Fathers' Day hug and kiss, or so that's what I'd like to think her intent was. It's more likely she became very lonely and insecure with me being absent for so long.

I somehow had the need for a couple of strong shots of ice cold high octane booze after this day. The only thing I had around that seemed potent enough to fit the bill was some German kräuter liqueur (sadly, it wasn't even the good stuff, which is Jägermeister). The most uncomfortably sobering part of the day was the big lapse in memory I had which resulted in me misplacing a valuable article. Luckily, I recovered it, but it is so unlike me to lose track of my stuff and it freaks me out when that begins to happen. When it does happen, it pretty much is a sign and confirmation that I'm suffering from mental exhaustion; along with the physical exhaustion I've been hammering myself through during this course of training. I'm entering week 12 of the fifteen week program, and it doesn't get easier from here.

The other reason I resorted to taking a couple of drinks is because my sleep has been so poor for the past week. Nothing has been making me comfortable at bedtime. Each day without decent rest feels like another day which I have to awaken for to confront and treat in such a way like I'm going to war. Things have been jumping in my way that I think I could have handled better had I more patience, but it just doesn't feel like it's there anymore. I only feel my buttons are getting pressed and feel myself getting more and more irritable: it's not the way I want to face the world. I sincerely think need a retreat: a seriously long one.

The problem though is that I fare through vacation time just about as badly. I never have, or can find, the kind of company that I'd really want with me. No matter where I go, I always go alone, and I'm left to contend with the same miserable bastard that is making my life complicated most of the time. Of course, I refer to myself.