In Which I Am Partly Justified

Yeah. Huh. No sense in ending the road trip with an inspiring come-from-behind win to take two of three from the Dodgers, right? A night after Jorge Julio blows it with a little non-help from the defense, giving up two runs, Hurdle puts him in in the eighth, where he blows it without any extra outs from the defense; he does get helped by Jeremy Affeldt deciding to completely suck at the worst possible time. After Affeldt gave up five runs without recording an out in San Diego, in a game that the Rockies lost 11-9, he does the same thing in Los Angeles, giving up a two-run single to RAMON MARTINEZ, who is hitting, for the record, .173/0/18. Great job, Jeremy. Great freaking job.

The Elmer Dessens experiment did not work; the Franklin Morales (!) flyer might have. The 21-year-old lefty went 5.1 innings, permitting only one run, in his MLB debut, in a game that the Rockies eventually won 7-4 in 14 innings. They lost two of three to both the Padres and Dodgers, going a heartbreaking 2-4 on their six-game crucial West swing. At least two of those losses are attributable to Affeldt becoming Affuentes at the least convenient juncture. Yeah, I know that playing on 100-loss teams in Kansas City didn't really prepare you for the heat of a pennant race, buddy. Just go away.

And now for the brief foray into real life issues: I am not okay right now, with the Rockies only comprising one of many reasons. I am trying to work through the anger and depression and get my head back on track, as I've been in a serious emotional swoon for the past few weeks and need to exorcise the blues. I'm having a pretty wild self-esteem and self-knowledge crisis, I suppose you could say, and I have difficulty letting that side of me out; so naturally it all caught up and nervous breakdowns really aren't to my taste.

Still trying to recover, today's travesty didn't help, and sometimes I feel like I am hanging on by my fingernails. I am so tired and so down and the blues are taking over me. I have no creativity and ambition. I can’t write, novels or blog or anything. I want to sleep forever and work is becoming more of a chore than ever. I want to go back to school, I’m actively looking forward to it, and at the same time I hold back and want to stay home, which is odd, because I know I love it in New York and want to go back there; maybe it’ll be good for me. It’s the end of the summer and I am mired in a serious emotional swamp. Slipping off the edge. Clawing back. Crystalline shards beneath the fingernails. Dealing with family, with self, money, ambitions, images, life. Splintered mirrors, shifting shadows. Going slightly crazy, clearly. I am too old to be this confused; I may be only 19 (well, in five days) but I am very mature for my age. I know what I want in life and I am generally content. This slide came out of nowhere and it really sucks. I keep pretending that I am fine, and that's what I say when anyone asks, but I am not. This has more to do than just baseball. Everything seems to be teetering on the brink just now. It'll get better, I hope.

I need something to hold onto. Who knows what it’ll be?