its my world you can’t have it

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Psuedo prognosis aside…and yes, I will be seeking a second opinion… I seriously am starting to believe that it may be true, and that its okay. But still seeking that second opinion. So…prognosis aside and without any affect, my brain is starting to slip into familiar patterns of building an imaginary life where I have awesome children and living in a great house–two things that I don’t necessarily desire at this moment. Its becoming a slight desire…for the future. Its becoming a large fear. I suffer with genetics that will affect the lives of future off spring. Mols and I deal with serious concern over the genetics we have and how they will come to fruition in our lives and the lives we wish to lead someday. Cores is right when he says that these are the years that these monsters rear their heads. 24-28. Neither of us are looking to move our lives to the next level until after age 28—for safety’s sake. God forbid we effect the lives of our future children and spouses the way our mothers affected us. I’ve been slipping back into these old patterns for weeks now. My job is to keep my shit together in front of other people as much as possible….as fucking much as possible…and its always been that way…but I’ve known for months that things were just returning to the way they were before. Cycling. Today was a better day in that the cycle kinda stopped and I felt normal. Calm before the storm normal? Possibly…normal, yes. I’ll take it. But tonight tells me that old patterns have more then returned, they’ve set in. Shit…the same old stuff…something needs to be done differently. Maybe this new suggestion will help me to get it together.

how odd is it to be watching Metallica’s Documentary “blah blah blah…we’re a rock band in therapy.” Seeing the hard rock boys chilling out with their kids while they sing and rock out. They’re working through their feelings and wow that’s interesting. And odd… very very odd. Because they’re grown men working together and working in therapy. Awww therapy.

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