Eight or so Weeks

It was bad, it got worse.

There's a lot I don't say on the The LEFT Show anymore about my personal life. Weird, I know. Last year my ex, in yet another effort to make me hate myself, let fly that being honest about my life was annoying people, and that no one gave a shit in the first place. It might not be true, but, as with all her attempts to fuck me up, I took it to heart and stopped sharing as much.

That was intellectually dishonest, given the nature of The LEFT Show over the last 12 years, and I feel badly about it. Not that I think that anyone does give much of a shit, or that I think anyone should, but it was what it was and I made changes for stupid reasons.

So, yeah.

About six weeks ago, after a couple of Very Bad Weeks, I was heavily contemplating checking myself into the hospital because my mental health felt like it was considerably slipping, and I was having a difficult time keeping my shit together.

Then things got bad.

Then, last week, things got very much worse.

I can't really talk about what's going on without violating the trust of people that I love very much, and there are few things that mean more to me than that. There’s also a lawyer involved that told me to STFU and I can certainly respect that.

The last eight weeks have been very difficult, the last week has been the worst I've ever had, and I've have some really bad weeks in my past. The trauma isn't over yet and dealing with what's still ahead is frightening as hell. People I love are in trouble and, while I'm doing everything I can, it's stacking up to not nearly enough.

It boils down to four problem timelines for four people. One, I couldn’t even give a shit about. Three of them I care about. One of those I’m mad about, one I’m frightened about, and the last one is scaring the hell out of me.

Vague enough for you? This sucks. I like spilling the bits all over the place and not being able to is frustrating.

As to the shows? It looks like, to add insult to injury, the hard drive containing all the show files cooked off. I've already got another hard drive running, and I'm rebuilding everything, so we'll be back next week. Even if the hard drive hadn't died, I would not have been able to record this last weekend.

In addition, the drive had a shit-ton of my writing, all my music, a lot of family photos, stuff like that. I’ll try to find a data recovery service once this is all over and I can start trying to put some kind of money together.

Well, this was just a stack of babble. Sorry about that.

Weird … some of the worst times of my life are punctuated with computer failures … Lookin’ at you, 2009.