here's what i'm gonna do

i'm gonna document all the crap that makes me cry, for whatever reason, and see where and how it gets to me. here's one:

I was scrolling along, reading random junk on Fakebook and saw this. I cruised through it til I got to the phrase "a year ago" and then I lost it. I didn't like who I was a year ago, but I guess I felt more worthwhile than I do right now. I had a purpose that kept me alive. I didn't enjoy it much, if at all, but it gave me a sense of worth. As long as I was taking care of Sharon, I meant something.

Sure, I had problems a year ago, different ones. And I hated life, was bitter and miserable. Two years ago I also hated life, had problems and was bitter and miserable. Looking back, I see that it's been a slow process of life taking things from me and me looking at what's left with so much disdain. I'm not a glass half-full guy. I'm a glass half-empty, and by the way, it's chipped and who knows how long that water has been sitting there, may as well chuck it kind of guy.

So, when I think of a year ago, as fucked up as it was for me and Sharon, I look at it and wail. Because it's gone forever, and I can never get it back. I have no purpose, and Sharon is gone--to who knows where.

I do try, daily, to find things that will make me happy. All are dead ends, so far.

Music, blah.

Fishing, whatever.

Bike ride, nah.

Grief group, why?

Contemplate going back to work, are you fucking kidding me?

Contemplate being cut off of disability, yeah, sure, probably happen. Is that supposed to make me happy?

Contemplate man with no arms and no legs (not named Bob or Art) and think of how goddamn lucky I am to have appendages, sure, add guilt to my awareness package, thanks!

Please don't anyone suggest anything, I'll just shoot holes in it and bum you out and make you wish you never entertained the idea of trying to cheer me up. It's what I do.

Who I was a year ago was a slightly better, less messed up version of me than today. Or at least there were still some illusions I could still entertain that were convincing enough to make life seem like it was still worth waking up for every day. I don't know if I'll be around next year to make these comparisons.

Here's another one. 1921 by the Who. How random, right?

I've got a feeling twenty one
Is going to be a good year.
Especially if you and me
See it in together.
So you think 21 is going to be a good year.
It could be for me and her,
But you and her-no never!
I have no reason to be over optimistic,
But somehow when you smile
I could brave bad weather

New Year's Day, a day to start anew. People look forward to ringing it in with those they love. Well, this year it was just me, looking back and realizing that I was never going to have that again. So, that bottle of champagne will sit there til hell freezes over. We were too tired to drink it last year or the year before. Old farts, we stopped staying up to listen to the gunfire at midnight or even watch the ball drop on the east coast at 9.

So, '21 or '20 or '19 aren't likely to be good years, and I don't have your smile to help me brave bad weather anymore. Just memories, which, of course will make me sad.