You know...if you don't have anything nice to say, then don't say anything at all? That's where I'm at. I HATE FEELING LIKE THIS. I really do. I hate being Debbie Downer. I would give just about anything to not have neurotic thought after neurotic thought running through my head. I would give anything to not obsess and fixate on things until they are just thoroughly uninteresting to anyone but me. ARGH! At some point, I need to turn a corner. I just do. But sitting here at 10:30pm in a very empty apartment, it's hard to see a way up.
Feeling this way makes me feel weak. It makes me feel sad too. I HATE the weekends. At least when the little Redheaded Rose is around, I have someone to snuggle with. I miss her. I miss finding the joy in things that I used to find joy in. Everything is just so....dull and bland. And gray. So gray.
I suppose a few recent events have made things feel just a little bit worse. Rejection, or maybe it was realizations on my part. Failure, but I was up against a pretty impossible mission. I feel like my sense of reality has been warped. Things that normal people brush off, I internalize and allow it to consume who I am. I think the most marked issue for me is that if something happy happens in my life, I become happy. If something bad or sad happens, my mood shifts. Which sounds logical, right? But everything shifts. Being rejected by a guy shouldn't make your world turn upside down. It should be kinda sad, something you add to the larger mix of emotions for the day, and see where you even out at the end of the day. Who knows, maybe I have cyclothymia.
Either way, I gotta break out of this funk. It's not any fun. For me or anyone else.
