Not sure what happened. Everything seemed ok. Suddenly, confined with my dear wife and no room to breath. It was not easy. Communication fractured. Anxiety. Alcohol. Therapy.
2022 seemed like the year everything was going to turn around. Life seemed great as we blasted off and embraced all that was missed over the past couple years. It truly felt we would reach the moon, maybe further. I was topped off with joy for a future that I confused with a rose tinted dream. A glimpse into a different timeline. Sometime better. Maybe it still exists somewhere out there.
I wake up alone these days. My phone rarely provides me with buzzes of reassurance that indicate one's connection to a social group. Have I been ostracized? Or, is this an act of self-immolation? I've always been a loner. I wrote that I've never felt more alone than I do now. I'm becoming withdrawn. The separation has crippled me financially; although, I'm elated that I did not sell any of my dear Bitcoin. So here I sit, two months sober, alone. Still stacking as many sats as I can with hope for a better tomorrow.