In a real funk, and it only seems to be getting worse. Especially when my brain seems to be actively working against me trying to pull myself out of it. If I just stop and relax for a bit, I worry that I should be doing something, or I'm forgetting to do something or WHY ARE YOU JUST SITTING THERE NOT DOING THE LAUNDRY/CLEANING/COOKING/SOMETHING. If I go out and genuinely have fun and enjoy myself, I immediately feel guilty about it because you must have done something wrong, look at how stupid you must have looked, EVERYONE KNOWS YOU LOOKED LIKE AN ASS. They were just being nice because they felt bad, you know they're talking about you now. FFS, I can barely spend a day with my parents without thinking I screwed it up somehow.
So then I don't do anything so that I can't make myself feel bad about it later. But I WANT to go out and talk to people, so I get more depressed, and withdrawn, resentful and angry and start lashing out at those around me. Feel bad about it later, and so on. And it builds up, and I'm stressed all the time and just so tired. And how do you explain that to anyone without sounding completely insane?
And this is all TMI, and probably won't do any good, but I just....don't know.
It's simple, really. You lack Slack. You worry about what other people think of you. You worry that having a good time is somehow BADWRONG. In many people, this leads them to join religious groups that frown on fun entirely. In others, it leads to the situation you find yourself in.
That's the EASY part. The hard part is doing something ABOUT it. My advice is to work with a therapist, combined with some exercise. Assuming you can AFFORD a therapist. If you can't, talk to Nigel, who may have some information on how to find publicly funded therapy. If this turns out not to be an option, then there's The Cure. That should be considered a last resort, of course, as it tends to turn you into a 44 year old, bitter old man that hates everyone and spends all his time NOT giving a shit what most people think. That does, believe it or not, have some downsides.
Yes, this, a qualified therapist. I mean, we all THINK stuff like that (and worse...) sometimes, but when it takes over and keeps you from doing things, it's time to get somebody to show you how to put the brakes on the shit. Good luck, keep us posted.
Do you jog? Roger suggested that I start hitting the treadmill. I haven't yet because... well I don't have a good reason.
I'll do it tomorrow.
I'll do it tomorrow.
I'll do it tomorrow.
I'll do it tomorrow.
I'll do it tomorrow.
I'll do it tomorrow.
I'll do it tomorrow.
And that is largely the essence of why I'm in what I'm in now.
Twid, I wish to FUCK I was on a treadmill.
I'm having a Very Special Day. Moved across town to a new neigborhood recently and when I took the dog out last night, I was cutting across parking lots ans stepped over a four inch curb.
There was a three foot drop on the other side and I landed on the side of my assbone. I can't put weight on my right leg AT ALL, I'm scooting around like a dog dragging his ass on the carpet.
I don't think anything broke, nothing feels out of place or feverish, just swollen and sore as fuck. I'm gonna give it a couple of days and if I don't see any improvement I'll go to the ER for an X ray, but I don't want to have to do that because it's Seguin and they're incompetent. They'd probably amputate my GOOD leg if I let them.
GET ON THE FUCKING TREADMILL, TWID. TREADMILL ROCKS FROM HERE.