Change in Intention

I have decided, that, since my other blogs have been overtaken by my inability to honestly confess my deepest internal conflicts due to my parents' censure of my public persona, I will convert this blog into the confessional I had wanted my other blogs to be. I had wished that they (which had better names) could have served that necessary purpose, but, as the most important thing—I believe—that a blogger should be able to do is to be honest, compounded by the fact that I was unable to do this with my parents watching over my shoulder, I have deemed it necessary to change venues.
I do appologize for this lengthy prelude to the real subject matter of this post, of which I will deal with shortly, which is the state of relationships within my life, and, where possible, within the sphere of the dating world as a whole. I will not, however, presume to know anything about the state of the dating world, but will try to make some reasonable deductions from my observations. These will be, as is everything on the internet, open to the criticism of all who choose to volunteer it.
But, moving more quickly now, I wish to discuss several aspects of my life which are particularly pressing at this current day and time, realizing, as I do, that the importance of things within anyone's daily life vacillates as the shifting tide. That should not, however, serve to discount the importance. The world of human value does not depend on any objective standard.
These days, I find myself confronting a particularly daunting task, as well as the concurrent grim metaphysical connotations. The topic is my health.
I had always been told, and, for the majority of these reminders, this was probably true. But this narrative has collided with the grim truth that my health is (though thankfully not failing) or has deteriorated. I am now faced with a markedly high blood pressure, with depression, anxiety, and even with the attention deficit disorder I once believed myself free of. These problems, while not insurmountable, have nonetheless become a daunting challenge in my life. But, and herein is the fascinating aspect of this whole ordeal, despite these intrinsically physical problems, the problem that has challenged me the most is the challenge that these medical problems have posed to the worldview that I had always believed; that I was healthy. The mental and metaphysical ramifications of these problems on that worldview have been the single most challenging aspect of this whole ordeal. Even I, as I admit this, realize the frivolity of such a statement. The real challenge, I should objectively realize, is the medical problems themselves, not the "idea" of these problems. But yet, if I am honest, I had previously thought myself reconciled with the reality of my own death (the conclusion toward which these problems point). But as these new metaphysical concerns attest, I still harbor a vague myth of eternal well-being.

As a postscript and an addendum of sorts, I will add that I recently met with my psychiatrist, with whom I discussed my current difficulties, which I realize I have yet to elaborate. They are my current inability to accomplish anything scholastically substantial, a fact which is compounded by my vascillating mood and my sleeping difficulties. We agreed to start Wellbutrin and Atavan, Wellbutrin for the concentration and Atavan for the anxiety surrounding sleep.

I will, in the future elaborate further on the nature and extent of these problems, but for the moment I must retire. I hope that, if there is anyone reading this, that they be understanding in their judgement, and not too harsh in their censure.