11:20 a.m. - November 30, 2006
I am lonely, a gut-wrenching ache lonely, but just when I'm home. At work, whether I am in the office on Mondays, or in a different city standing before another group of teachers who pay me to reveal instructional strategies to make easier their teaching lives, I am content, if just a little bored. But the moment I am alone, I am like an unplugged vacuum - I sigh, my insides settle into a weight that wasn't there earlier, and there is no trace of the energy I had but moments before.
And in this loneliness, I make mistakes. Yesterday afternoon my ex-boyfriend Spec stopped by and I didn't shut the door in his face and what more is there to say? The excitement of seeing him again so instantly relieved this loneliness that I ignored the alarm bells ringing inside, and the dinner we shared was just enough like the old days that I relished being near him once more. And in the end he hit me again. You know what that means, Atlanta man - that in all this time from when he would hit me every day to yesterday, I have not learned a goddamned thing.
So I have no secret strategy or advice or even positive thoughts to combat and slay depression. I wish I did but I don't, and I am sorry.