Not feeling any better than I did yesterday.

If anything, I feel a little worse. And I am pondering what I am doing wrong here.

Well, I know I have been abusing sleep lately, and that is a serious problem. By abusing sleep, I mean that I go to bed not because I am tired, but because I am bored with being on the computer and just do not know what to do with myself except read and nap.

Just think about how sad that is. If I am not here at the computer, I nap. No wonder life is passing me by. I keep sleeping through it!

And I think that has a lot to do with being beaten and battered by bad sleep. I think that at least some of the time, what is happening there is when I sleep when I am full of energy, said energy instead goes into my dreaming, pumping it way up past the point of comfort and forgetting.

And it is not like there is nothing that I could be doing besides sleeping. I could be cleaning up my room so that it no longer makes me sad to look at it. I could be cooking up something nice,like for instance finally learning to make some Splenda desserts for me to treasure and enjoy and help deal with all that resentment of people who get to enjoy the sweet life.

Or I could even be working out. Get some exercise, work off tension, build up muscle, burn off fat, lower my blood sugar. Stranger things have happened.

Spontaneous human combustion, for instance.

But I am stuck in this absurd pattern of meals and video games and naps. I am still living as though I am just waiting for something to happen, like I am still a kid in school who, when not in school or doing homework, has nothing to do but fill his time.

And I am quite tired of this, and yet, I feel like I can not break the pattern. Why not? Mostly fear, and the fear that hides under a mask of laziness and apathy. Like I have said before, depression makes you very conservative. You cling very hard to what you know because you have absolutely no faith that anything else can work as well as the few pleasure and/or reward stimuli upon which you depend.

So there is a deliberate donning of the blinders of parochialism where depression is concerned, You adhere to your routine as though your life depending on it, and do not look outside your highly circumscribed world at all, because doing so only makes you sad, and worse than that, angry and bitter and longing for escape.

So like any caged animal, you learn to ignore the cage and to treat it like it is the actual structure of the universe. This convinces you that escape is literally impossible. And should someone try to suggest ways out of the cage, you will reject those routes of escape with great fervour and vehemence, because the truth is, you do not want to leave the cage.

It is, in fact, a cage you built for yourself to keep the world out. And you are not willing to let the world in, so you are not willing to let yourself out, as much as you might pine for release.

I have been feeling increasingly grumpy and unhappy and frustrated lately, so that caged animal feeling is strong with me right about now. I am guessing that I am just on the part of my cycle where all my little frustrations and pains and fears that I do not express are bubbling and boiling up inside me as they build, and that is displacing all the bright and happy emotions I would prefer to be feeling.

I just get so sick and tired of my stupid fucking life. So pointless, so inane, so boring, so unfulfilling, so meaningless, so childish, so god damned futile. No wonder I spend so much time in bed lately. I just do not feel motivated to get out of bed and do all the stupid shit that I do.

And in many ways, I am trying to keep this discontent alive. Being happy on my situation sure as hell has not changed jack shit. “Making do” is a virtue only up to a point. You are only supposed to surrender to the things you cannot change. Things you can change, and don’t like, you are supposed to fight like hell.

Never learned to do that.

My approaching birthday is probably not helping my tension levels either. I will be turning 39 next Saturday, on the 19th of May, and after that, it is just a slow slide to 40, and honestly, I an not sure I want to make it to 40.

I know that will be a very bad day for me. I mean, 40. Fuck. It really feels like if I have not made something of my life by then, that is it, I just plain do not deserve to live. I mean, how big of a loser can you be, 40 years old and you have never had a job or a relationship or anything? Please. What is the pint of going on when each day makes you more of a loser? More of an embarrassing burden for the people you love to have to lug around?

I knwo these feelings are a product of insanity and does not represent how others feel about me, but tat does not keep said feelings from haunting me. I feel so pent up and trapped and crazy and hostile and just plain demented lately that I find myself wondering if it would not be easier to just stop clinging to sanity and let myself drift into total dementia.

Finally complete the wall and shut myself off from reality forever. Let the world take care of itself. It had done OK without me so far.

Hopefully, by putting these words onto the page, I will release them from my soul.