At the beginning of this month I intended to post about depression. Then I got depressed. Eighteen days later here I am wondering how in the f*ck it’s lasted this long. I had only one really bad day in particular. Since then I’ve been able to function but the layer of heaviness that comes with it hasn’t left me. It’s fine when I’m doing something and most people wouldn’t even notice but I know. I’m starting to think that maybe I am doing this to myself. Trying to force things that shouldn’t be because I’m too stubborn to let them go. I know better. I know I know better but I do it over and over again. Because I can’t help it, because I won’t help it.
We all live in our own fantasy worlds, life from our own unique perspective. No one else sees the world the way you do. No one else sees the world the way I do. I can see these things in my head, they work in my head and everything is going to be fine in my head but maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I am dead wrong and I’m just fooling myself. Maybe it’s because I have a fascination for the impossible. Maybe it’s because I think nothing is impossible. Maybe that type of thinking is dangerous and arrogant and maybe I’m just too blind to see it.
I’m a dreamer I suppose. My downfall is that I lack stamina. I lose motivation, I get bored, I give up. Maybe I should just let life happen. Honestly, at this point I’m too tired to do anything else. I think whenever I push for the things I want I end up fucking them up instead. Unintentionally but tangibly nevertheless. Maybe the best thing to do is nothing at all.
This month I have made a lot of choices that undoubtedly have been counterproductive to the things I’ve worked hard to accomplish. All for reasons unknown to me. The problem is I think I know better. Maybe it’s time for me to let go of everything I think I know before I cause anymore damage to myself.
Self-destructive behavior isn’t new to me. I just tend to forget that I have it.