Change in my pocket

It's been a couple weeks.  I'm trying to do more in my new lifestyle.  I bought an exercise bike in an effort to not get winded so easily.  After a few days of the stock seat designed for a butt that is nothing but deep crack, I replaced it with a normal Schwin seat that finally allowed me to make it thirty minutes.
By the way, I'm typing this on my tablet I got a few months back that I got a case/keyboard for; so bear with me that this Blogger app doesn't have a spell check.
See?  Changes.  So many changes.
But, no not really.  Still trying to get used to a seperation lifstyle where there is no actual seperation.  Top that with deadlines at work that keep happening one right after another.  I know it may not have been a completely good idea for me to get off of my antidepression antianxiety medication, but I figure I made it thirty years without it; I should try and get back to how I was before I got o them.  If anything, I trace all of the who I was before I became just a solo part of a relationship.  She says that she hasn't felt for me the way she did for quite some time, so I blame the drugs.
Again, just unanswered words in the ether, but I have to pick something to start with that might be taken notice.  It's hard to make an effort when no one seems to notice or care, so we'll see how the no drugs (I know, medication) go.

"What is it, you cunt face?"

A lot has changed since I last posted anything here, yet nothing actually changed.  Because of a sense of abandonment, I reached out to a faceless crowd to gather my thoughts.  I also passive-aggressively posted some things on Facebook, which, coupled with the auto-share feature of this blog to Facebook, required changes.
We had a conversation that helped me in clearing up some mis-perceptions, and I think helped us understand that neither of us handled the outcome very well.  The purposed of this post isn't to go into that, but to apologize for my actions.  I cannot take back what I posted or shared (I can delete them, but the message was conveyed), but I have taken steps to heal what I've done and myself in the process.  This post won't make its way to Facebook via the auto-share function for two reasons.  One, the simplest, I turned that off.  The second, I severed myself from my Facebook-world.
Basically, if you're a Facebook friend of mine and you're reading this, two things have happened.  You realized that I am missing from Facebook.  You're actually reading this because you sought it out.  I mentioned in that last post that it was the equivalent of writing my mom a letter and then burning it.  While a lot of me wanted to just vent to the internet-ether, apparently part of me wanted sympathy.  I got it, and I appreciated the attention; but it was all based on a dual-misunderstanding caused by the unfortunate reactions between two people.

I can't face my life without her, and a failed communication thrust me into despair that this was what was happening.  I have a lot of work to do to fix myself here, so part of that process was to break away from my Facebook-world and deal with the tangibles right in front of me.  So, again, if you're reading this, it's because you came here because you want to be here, and not because I was something to click in a feed.