I’m so out of touch and out of control when it comes to my own emotions that I can’t even decide if I’m happy or sad. Which seems like a pretty basic A or B quiz that even a small child could pass. A recent change in my own behaviour has lead me to wonder if maybe I used to be depressed because I always wanted to be out, drinking, socializing, making terrible decisions. Or maybe I’m depressed now because I don’t want to do any of those things and choose to be alone whenever possible? Or third option, I’m always depressed and it’s evolving because that would be just my luck. Evolving depression. The stupid thing will probably grow wings and a tail soon and then it’ll be able to follow me everywhere.
The only self-control I’ve recently developed is my ability to NOT drunk text. And that’s probably just because I’m never drunk anymore ’cause it gives me anxiety and I’m too old to survive hangovers and I don’t go out or do anything where I might get drunk. Oh, and also I delete all contact information that I have for anyone I may feel compelled to message negatively. That helps. I have a lot of regrets when it comes to the things I’ve said and done while intoxicated, things that have probably completely changed the direction of my life. I hope any of the people who’ve been involved in those moments know how sorry I am, and realize how often I wish time-travel was a thing (that I had access to). I’ve luckily developed a recent trigger that makes me second, third, and fourth-guess the things I say to people. Out of a paranoia of destroying relationships that are important to me. Which is weird for someone who’s never once in her life had a filter, or thought about the things coming out of her mouth.
There was a time that I would embrace every second of child-free not-working time that I had. This random miracle combination happened today. Y’know what I did? Sat in my underwear chain-drinking black coffee and watching the Amy Winehouse documentary. Which, in retrospect, is a fucking terrible idea if you already have a wicked case of the sads and feel horribly alone.
I can’t tell if I’ve just hit rock-bottom, or if that already happened and this is how it feels to claw your way out of it. Either way it means that I can only go up from here, right? I don’t think I have the ambition to try and get lower than rock-bottom. That seems like it would involve a lot more effort than just getting out of the pit and seeing the sun shine again. So that’s it. I’ve chosen the lazy way out. Happiness it is. I’m coming for you, surface-dwellers.