extreme anxiety

Some days I just want to pack all my shit and run away from home. Other days everything is just great, normal really, and it is just like nothing is wrong at all. I should have guessed something was wrong months ago, well maybe even longer if I spent enough time thinking about it. But I don’t want to spend time thinking about it. I just know. The mood swings are the worst. For the longest time I blamed myself. I spent a lot of time thinking maybe I’m not “relationship-type” material and that it was me that “couldn’t get along.” Now I am starting to see that it isn’t me.
Of course, we can’t talk about it. He won’t. I’ve tried. Well, I haven’t pushed very hard. That’s typical me, though. Why rock the boat if quiet-desperation hangs so heavy in the air? Yeah, I spend most of my life thinking burying your head in the sand makes life easier. Shut up. It does.
He’s not happy. I can’t make him happy. I can’t fix this and I am afraid it’s going to blow us apart because he thinks he would be better off alone.
I wonder if he is hanging on because of Ryan, who will be out on his own within the next 3 to 4 years. Ryan will then be taking care of himself and P won’t have the excuse to worry about him anymore. He’s worried for him for so many years now I don’t even know what he’s going to do when Ryan doesn’t need him anymore. I mean, I know they will continue to be best buds but even I can see a chasm that seems to widen ever so slightly sometimes daily as Ryan becomes more and more independent.
He’s pulled away from us both. I don’t think Ryan sees it so much since he is so immersed in living his young life. He should be. He’s right on the edge of started his adult life. He’s got a smooth clean white slate all ready in position, just waiting for life to come at him with all different kinds of markers. Some will wipe off and clean away, never to be remembered again and he will move on. Some will be permanent and hopefully fade over the years as he comes to term with life and moves on.

It’s interesting that I haven’t had a panic attack, well any sort of full blown attack, since I quit the clinic. It really is so much a nicer job when you can’t and don’t take home all the work worries with you. Bartending is like that. There will always be drunks, but even drunks can be nice. I’m glad I got back in line with the drunks.













oh, yeah. He's going to be playing at my bar Saturday night. I'm thinking about trying to stay up late to check him out. A lot of people like him.