I realized today I completely suck at nodeshell rescues; I suspect the impending message from Klaproth will remind me never to try that again.

So I'm moving again, this time back to Colorado. Erica actually did send me a check ... but unfortunately not for anywhere near the amount she actually owed me. Supposedly, it was a carefully measured amount, just enough to buy an airline ticket to get there. The claim was had she sent me the whole amount, my ex-wife would have found a way to steal it. As much as it angers me, she's probably right.

Unfortunately, it wasn't actually enough for an airline ticket. So I'm taking a damned bus.

When I called her to ask for the rest of the money, she adopted an unfortunate attitude -- "you never signed a contract with me, you can't prove I owe you the money, etc." She seems not to be the person I once thought she was.

Of course, neither is my ex-wife, whose highly intelligent response to my depressed reaction to Erica's musings today was to scold and yell at me. The funniest part is how she still wonders why I'm leaving again.

This time, though, I'm not leaving in control of anything. Not much money. No car. Completely dependent on friends who I suspect never liked me in the first place to take care of me. I have nothing but Erica's word that once I arrive in Colorado she'll talk to me again and/or send me the rest of the money she owes me.

I spent nearly half an hour of my day today in a catatonic state; after my phone call ended with Erica, I could apparently no longer cope with reality and just turned off for awhile. My ex-wife spent half an hour unsuccessfully trying to awaken me from the unnatural slumber. I lose more and more time this way now; though I normally don't fall asleep when it happens I do behave very differently and forget about everything that happened -- almost like a blackout. I see things moving in darkness that aren't there, thunderstorms scare me again like they did when I was a child, and my sanity is slipping away. The term "schizophrenia" keeps cropping up in my mind and I'm beginning to worry that more than just the term is applicable to what's happening to me upstairs.

What are you supposed to do when you can literally see yourself slipping away on the inside? What kind of life preserver am I supposed to throw out for myself to stop it from getting worse? Should I just keep shuffling around until I find a place to live that will tolerate me and make me comfortable? Will peace and comfort alone be enough to finally get well-needed rest? What is real rest like? I've come to realize I've probably only spent a few nights in my entire lifetime in contented, peaceful sleep. All of them involved being in Erica's arms. Of course she's gone now, five hundred miles away, and I'm moving another 900 miles further away. And she's replaced me with her ex-boyfriend anyway. I'll have to settle for not being scared to death that my ex-wife will try to hurt or kill me in my sleep now. Of course, it'll be replaced by the worry that my new landlords will just decide to throw me out on my ears. Then I'll be screwed (again).