Solitary Confinement. in Whey and Sonic Screwdrivers.

You’d think feeling lonely would make me more active online. Reading more, commenting more, texting/messaging friends. Sometimes I do Other times, I find it reminds me of how lonely and alone I am. It is not always an active feeling. Generally anxiety, sadness, and lackluster motivation are more powerful.

But, I AM lonely. It’s not like I had a super-heavy social life before. But I did have friends to visit in person, once upon a time. I’m half tempted to see if anybody wants to be phone buddies. Like penpals, but willing for periodic phone chats. Mind you, I HATE making phone calls.

I haven’t made such a request because for me to be me, well. I’d feel like a burden. Like I’m too much. What did I say/feel to myself the other day? “I’m a burden to myself.” One of those moments where you have sensory issues and get annoyed at things you never did before. Never thought my nosehairs would annoy me.

(I never had sensory issues like this until a year ago.)

Lowering my vodka intake has been hit and miss. Kind of nice having the ability to recognize something you’d like to do, and actually WANT to do it.

I wonder what it’s like to not know what it’s like to not want anything.

And then there’s the days when everything seems to be okay. Sorta enjoyed it. Then it’s getting towards bedtime and I feel empty. Like, I did everything right. I never felt this empty before when I was depressed in the past.

At the beginning of the year, I looked up some local group therapy. Marked it on the calendar. Left the address open on my laptop, Tina. I can’t really explain why I didn’t go. It’s worse than having an urge not to go. I didn’t even try to go. Difficult to explain the difference.

I can only reorganize my flat so much. I end up getting anxiety at times over memories. Even if it is something I moved in the past few months. I want to rearrange my flowers outside, but then my anxiety said “but you’ll miss how they look now”. As if remembering that is so important. Anxiety SUCKS.

I have a list of things I could do for fun or to just do. And some long-term things that don’t need to be done now. I never seem to look at it after I write it. Just stays on the corner of the calendar, a reminder of my lack of drive.

I don’t want to be known for my depression. I don’t want it to define me. Moreover, talking about depression and sadness, is depressing. Many mornings, I will get caught in cyclic thoughts of “how AM I feeling? What AM I doing with my life.” And I end up with analysis by paralysis. Thinking so much about my status and what I want to do, that I end up doing nothing.

I got out to Taco Bell today and ate in the lobby. Probably could have done it months ago, but I only got vaxed seven weeks ago or so. It was such a nice experience to just exist outside these walls. Not in transit. Not being productive. Not fighting off my four cats, ha ha.

I think the library’s inside is open. I’d like to go there to read. Hey, I have a Star Trek book.

Earlier this month, I thought about bowling. Even by myself, it would be fun.

I don’t know.

My good and back weeks come in waves. Not even by week is punctuated by a rock bottom, but I’m starting to worry. I track my moods to see if there’s any specific trigger or event for a downturn. My wife leaving me. Being abused. A conversation. Something, anything, an event.

The last few?

There hasn’t been any event. Not one, really. When you’ve been alone and depressed for so long, you forget that COULD be the reason.

The desperation I feel right now feels like anxiety that never ends. Yet, there’s something more dangerous than anxiety, sadness, or loneliness: apathy. To just give up.

I’m so tired of being tired. For too long I’ve wondered if I’ll ever be okay again.

Now I’m just babbling and repeating myself.

Last updated May 30, 2021