About that Pretext thingy:

The pretext, if we're to believe M. Scott Peck (I do, for what that's worth), is the lie that the demon tells to intrude upon your soul. In my case, I have the pretext down (OK, no, I'm not going to share). I will say this, it's insidious--

ly stupid. Breaking it out, looking at it from all sides, it's simply one of those things that would uniquely hook me and my soul. What a ride. Months of anguish are beginning to fade. The true test will be my sleeping patterns.

If they return to normal (for me, normal would be something like 6 hours a night average, with me lucidly waking myself and going right back to sleep like maybe 2 to 3 times a night). I awoke feeling pretty good this morning thanks to the help of a friend who helped me identify the final piece of the pretext.

Like the final piece in a jigsaw puzzle, some stupid shit snapped into place, and I realized the reasons for my insanity are related to some denial on my part. Denial of the fact that I'm getting older. Denial of the fact that I should not want more when I already have everything. Denial of the fact that some good cannot be done without doing more than a totality of harm.

That and some understanding of the unique problems already identified, have helped me come to grips with what's wrong, what I'm not going to allow, and how I'm going to reconcile these forces of thought that have been wrestling in my brain.

I am aging. When I look around, I'm not aging all that badly. I'm going to take some dear advice of a friend, and try to live in the moment and enjoy who I am (some of the best advice I've had lately). I work out regularly, and have more energy than most guys 20 years younger than me. I have a beautiful wife of almost 20 years as well. I have a good job where I get to be creative, funny -- and I have an extremely good team of people that have been wonderful to me in the thickest of moments.

What more do I want from my life? I've already raised a son, and I'm in full "Uncle-Paul" mode for the rest of my extended family. Gee, sounds like real deficit material there, doesn't it?!? The insidiousness of all of this sounds petty with this as a back-drop, but I warn you, dear reader, not to count the simplest of lies as trivial. At the core of some of the most painful mistakes are small lies. Things that are hissed in the darkest spaces of your existence can make mountains out of the smallest of mole-hills.

I drove my CRX to work today (no, I'm not changing subjects here). This is a car with obvious warts. It's not my beautiful GT convertible (I do have an obvious vice when it comes to that piece of machinery). It's more me, however. Light, balanced, and despite the warts, fast as all hell. I laugh every time I drive it. I have another joy, thanks to my brother Art.

I hope over the next few weeks to see the balance return to my life that's been missing for months. The thought of sleep (Glorious sleep) intrigues me. The idea that maybe the articles will flow out, instead of being almost a mental barfing, which is the closest analogy, sorry -- that articles will flow out of my mind like they were earlier in the year -- that idea makes me smile.

I'm going to drive the CRX more. I'm going to live in the moment of the situation, and enjoy things the way they are. Are they everything I could have? No, but I already have so much that others only dream of.

I must again thank the angels in my life -- God Bless you all.
--FeriCyde