it’s weird. i don’t know what happened. i really was depressed and upset to start off the year. as in chemically so. just not okay. and i was pretty pissed off that no one was understanding and no one was reaching out. so i just decided to fuck off and not talk to anyone. i had decided that it wasn’t worth it … trying to be friends with people who clearly didn’t give a fuck.
and i wrote about some of that here and i thought about some of it and i am going to do some more personal ‘inventory’ stuff on my own and with a sponsor and all of that. i’m not really cheery, but i looked at what you guys at to say and i’m mulling it all over. i’m still not exactly sure how i’m supposed to share myself and be open when i feel like my theory that people aren’t to be trusted gets proven over and over again. but now i have something to work with. i have something to try and work with for the future.
but i was thinking about something just now and it *did* occur to me that i haven’t really talked to anyone in a week. since new year’s eve. and i didn’t really talk to anyone that night, because i truly was crawling out of my skin. i could barely stand to be myself that night. it was terrible. trust me, i don’t wish that shit on anyone.
i have to say this stuff gets really cumulative. now, i get to the point where i start to get to the point where the idea of living alone and being alone starts to sound good. where the craving to hang out with others has started to pass. where i can see myself just living a solitary existence now. it doesn’t sound right in my head, because in my gut i know i’m a pretty social person. i *think* i enjoy being around people. but i do get confused when i get in streaks like these, because i figure that i must be doing enough things where people don’t really enjoy being around me. or their lives are full enough … it’s *me* that has a small life.
so, i start to think that i need to focus more on the things that i always say i’ll get around to. writing and all of that. cleaning my room. organizing. fixing the stupid right hand pocket in my coat, so i can put things in it, instead of avoiding it so things don’t either drop right out to the street or begin some sort of weird limbo, floating around somewhere near my left knee.
i might be a social person at heart. that might be true. i might get more enjoyment out of life with good food and good friends and good times. but i have chronic back pain and stuff, and i’ve just come to learn to live with it. i can see just coming to learn to live alone. i can really see it being not that bad. and it would be pretty ironic if it cleared up stuff like my chronic physical pain because it forces me to do exercise and stuff like that. that would be pretty funny. i’m not trying to be maudlin or anything. this is the blog and i think out loud here.
the other thing is, maybe i’m not supposed to live ‘alone,’ per se, but maybe i’m just supposed to know other people. i don’t know. i’m just going to keep moving one foot in front of the other. that’s all i really know how to do, anyway. that’s all i really know about. step, step, step. trudging. walking with purpose. that’s all i can do. i was so pissed the first time someone told me “what other people think of you is none of your business.” but, it’s true. what i think i *really* need to make my business is what *i* think of me. that could use an overhaul.
i wish i didn’t think so much. it hurts.