This is going to be a bit of a strange rant, since I'm going to put aside all suicidal thoughts and feelings and PRETEND like I want to keep on living. I'm trying an experiment that way, as effed up as that sounds. I'll probably return to my regularly scheduled programming shortly, but for the present I'm playing a game of make pretend. ====== Compared to some, maybe most of the folks on this site, I have a very good life. I have a professional job, a BS and an MS degree, a professional designation, a job that pays something approaching a living wage, a wife who loves me despite my foibles and a little boy who is the light of my life. Hell, I even have health and life insurance. And yet (whining commences!) here's what I'm doing: Work My productivity is just about non-existent. The biggest culprit here is how much time I spend on-line, as in way too much. I've tried but I can't seem to stop. What is severely fucked up is that (1) I don't particularly hate my job, (2) on balance I both like and respect my employer, (3) I also like most of the clients on whom I've been fucking off lately at a billing rate of $100/hour and (4) my job has a few other minor benefits I'd be hard pressed to find elsewhere, as in a ten minute commute, and a willingness to be flexible for things like daycare. Part of brain is recoiling in horror as I piss away a decent job...part of me seems to be stuck in sludge or almost externally driven to destroy myself. I know it is wrong, I want to change, and yet here I go...Gaah. I've actually taken up SI (see my posts in that forum) as a corrective, without success to this point. I may ramp this up, but I may also just chuck it as a failed experiment. After a while blunt trauma makes you hurt non-stop I've found. Home I cannot bring myself to pay bills, balance the checkbook or anything like that. I can do minor things like empty the dishwasher, do laundry, feed the dog, things like that. Yet I just cannot sit in front of a computer and pay bills. Weirdest thing. And since it is about the ONLY thing I do around the house anymore, the wife is justifiably miffed. She's going to be even more pissed when she sees a letter I've hidden from a credit card company, but that's neither here nor there. Its almost like I've got OCD of a sort, without any of the obvious symptoms. Like I'm locked into certain pattern of behavior that I know is wrong, but which I can't break free from. I get angry with myself, filled with self-loathing, get depressed...and then keep on doing what it is that's making me angry, full of loathing and depressed. I'm not drinking, using drugs, gambling, engaging in risky sexual behavior or anything like that. But it still feels like I'm irrationally destroying myself. And that I can't stop. What I know is: (1) It is nobody's fault but mine...so much for acknowledging this as a step to a cure. Hasn't changed a damn thing, except maybe to make me angrier. (2) It can't keep on this way much longer. (3) I have a pit in my stomach to such a degree I'm tasting bile in my mouth all the time. Haven't thrown up or anything, doubtless that'll be coming. If I were a computer I'd reboot myself. If I were a video game I'd hit the restart button. Its like I have a psychic bone in my throat and gag as I might I can't get it out. :sad: Not much as rants go, since I know (god how I know!) that my fuckups are 100% my own fault....but thanx for your indulgence.