Tristan...

Tristan...

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Mood: Bad
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About Me

Age: 54
Gender: Female

About me? Okay. Fine. I live in Washington, D.C., and am highly educated [doctorate]—but fucking so what. Because of a serious, ongoing trauma condition that I endure, I've withdrawn from so much of life and have, thus, become severely lonely and uninvolved in life.. While I seem much younger than my age—because my two young kids (and my spirit, and genetics) keep me that way— it doesn't really matter that I have this going for me. These days, I'm so fearful, despairing, hopeless, defeated-feeling, that I've virtually no motivation or energy (of any sort) to DO anything of real use. By the way, the trauma is due primarily to (extreme) domestic abuse; My children are the only people I love unconditionally and with my entire heart. They are now the only reason I've not already died one of those "deaths of despair". (I think public health folks consider those: deaths from suicide, drug overdose, and experiencing homicide. I think, though, that deaths resulting from biological/life-shortening effects of loneliness and other consequences of mental health conditions—e.g., sedentary nature leading to terminal heart disease—should be included, as well.) I have great, creative, useful ideas but am so convinced that I'll just fuck everything up—and I've so little energy—that I cannot implement any of these ideas. Last, though this may well sounds cliché and/or hokey: I know I'm a spiritual being who is, at this point, in human form.

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