Welcome to RyconFox

Good evening journal, today's New Years Eve 2017. Future entries will be more honest as I feel the need to restart this blog to get my thoughts and daily shit out in the open so I don't drive myself crazy. To prevent others from condeming me for my thoughts and actions I've disabled comments. Today was what I would call a normal day. I got up about 7am and got on the pc to check messages: see if anyone important messaged me, but there were the normal ads from Second Life. I've gotten over the flu for the most part but I still koff and fell 'under the weather'. This morning was no different. During the week I normally at least log in to Minecraft to see how the servers are doing but today I just wasn't feeling it. I logged into Second Life to see if there was anything that wasn't sent to email and there wasn't, so I logged off and cuddled my wife. She was dead to the world asleep and didn't even feel me next to her. I must've passed out myself because when I got up again and got back on the computer it was just after 8am. Sage came out of the bedroom sometime after 10am and most of the conversation's a blur to me, but I remember sometime before noon we sat down and played The Forest for a few hours. The owner of the Purple Panda Bakery in Second Life had gotten back to me on the cans I sent her and while we were playing, I was talking to her while talking with Sage on Discord. Sage said her eyes hurt so we quit the game and I went in and cuddled her for a bit. I don't remember much about what happened but around 2pm I said I was hungry and that I was making ramen which started an argument because she said I'd just got done eating Cream of Wheat at 10am. I argued that ramen in the USA is considered a snack food rather then food food, but my main point was I was hungry again. I made ramen, watched TV with Sage, and a majority of the day's a blur. Dinner was homemade burgers on a copper pan we'd gotten from Sage's Aunt for Christmas. The pan was too hot to pick up even with an oven mitt, so I grabbed a plate and put the burgers on it. Sage's brother complained that his bread was going to be soaked in grease now but there wasn't anything I could've done. When I brought the burgers in to Sage she said the same thing but I was able to explain why, so she asked for ketchup and said it was by the kitchen door on the right side. Both myself and her brother had looked all over the kitchen for ketchup and couldn't find it, so Sage got up and came inside and went right to a spot we'd already looked and pulled out a bottle. She was frustrated and it caused another argument. I was berated for my limited knowledge and forgetfulness, which furthered the argument, so I said Fuck You and left with my burgets because I don't waste food. My wife I love to death suffers from PCOS, PTSD, and a couple of other mental discorders I can't remember off hand. Some days are better then others but the last few months it's been more arguments then anything. She has a higher IQ then everyone in the house and went to Cullinary School. When she was younger she was Mensa tested and her IQ was higher then everyone in the school and they wanted to send her to college early, but no one could afford it. Sometime later she witnessed her soul mate's suicide infront of her which gave her PTSD. I can remember bits and pieces of my past and what others have told me while everything else is linked. I remember my social, my birthday, my wife's birthday, our anniversaries, where we met, our marriage - but alot of day to day stuff is a blur for me. Sage thinks it's a defense mechanism from something that happened when I was younger, which lead her to conclude I was abused when I was a child. I've been condemed many times by my wife and brother-in-law for my way of thinking and for my actions. I'm a product of my generation and had what was once considered to be a normal upbrining. My birth parents are still together. I see things around me that take me back to my childhood and nine out of ten times I'm told I'm stupid for it. Sage also thinks I have a form of PTSD because of how my mind works, but I don't think so. Alot of people from my generation either succeeded long enough to marry then divorce, or failed and committed suicide. If you were famous you either ended up straight or bi. There's alot I'd like to get off my chest when I can remember it, and I know this blog is going to end up turning dark because it will be a literal trip into my mind/daily life. I write it all out here so I can refer back to it, so I won't forget it. -Matt