I like to believe that I am more redpill than blue pill.

Although years of marriage have watered me down on the spectrum, the added inherent risk in life has added its own flair.

I am in my late thirties. Unemployed. I am in the anger phase of reclaiming what is rightfully mine. I struggle with finding the peace between being rational and stoic or showing my inner emotion in some attempt to connect to another human.

I am prone to bouts of anxiety, social anxiety, depression, and I self medicate to numb my emotions. I am angry at the world around me and I have a skewed cynical view. Most of all, I am angry at myself for the life situation I have allowed to develop around me.

I am a recovering addict who fluctuates between periods of extreme discipline and excessive hedonism. My more optimistic side sometimes has illusions of grandeur.

I have tried to combat my issue of extremes by slowly weening myself and trying to find some modicum of moderation but have been this far unable to do.

I have improved my diet, I have been lifting and reading more, I have been meditating, aiming for proper sleep, and taking cold showers.

I have regularly abused weed, alcohol, and caffeine and I have dabbled in only God knows what. Although I would probably benefit from some form of professional help, I have no intention of seeking it out because I am both too prideful and too embarrassed to do so.

Earlier tonight, I had a life altering event. I can't find the proper words fully describe the chain of events in my night without getting side tracked and bogged in details but it has been the strangest night of my life to date.

Short version: my father was involved in a serious car accident and had to be transported to the emergency room.

I couldn't help but observe the actions of every woman in my life and I just feel so disenchanted. I realize there are probably several lessons I still have coming.

Edits: me vs. autocorrect on phone and rewording