I think I’m running out of rope. Or something. I’m finding it hard to care about anything anymore. Except for things which have no solution. I’m not even sure if I’d say I’m miserable, I’m just so grey feeling that it seems like misery. It’s not that there’s really anything bad about my life, it’s just that there’s nothing that gives me joy in life any more. My friends have all become very distant (at least partially by my doing, I’m sure) and I’m not close to anybody any more. I don’t talk to anybody any more. People at work wonder “why I’m not funny any more”. I only eat once a day, if that.
The time is coming soon that I’m going to have to tell the woman that I love how I feel. She doesn’t know. And I know that while she may care, she doesn’t feel the same way about me. It feels like she’s my only real friend left, although that may be just because I’ve unintentionally put her on a pedestal, but either way, it isn’t good. I don’t see the friendship continuing once I tell her. Not that she would abandon me, but I don’t think I could continue seeing her once I know that she knows. So there’ll go the last shred of joy I have. Not that it matters, it doesn’t give me any joy any more. Nothing good is going to come from me telling her, but I just don’t think I can keep it secret any more and it’s time I was honest.
There’s nothing bad about my life, but there’s nothing giving me any kind of joy whatsoever any more. I just feel such an intense nothingness that I may as well not be alive. (And that’s not me being suicidal, it’s just an illustration of how little I am actually living these days) I used to have my music, but I just don’t feel it any more. My alcoholism and drug use honestly hasn’t gotten any worse, but it hasn’t gotten any better either. That may be part of the reason I feel so grey. For such a long time when I started feeling this way I would just up my dosage of one or the other. And it’s not that I can’t just up the dose again, but I guess I’ve just reached a point where I don’t see the point in doing any more because I just don’t have any hope any more. Before I could just do more because I felt like it could help, even if I knew it would only be for a while. Now, even though I could do more, I don’t, because I know I’ll just be a little less coherent but still miserable. Bleck.