| now is | once was | came from | heard tell |

12:10 a.m. - 2004-08-10

justified

How long has it been since I've gone a full day without feeling this low and awful? I can't even remember. This is not my normal state of being. As far as I can tell, it has been ever since I got home from the conference. Only a month ago. Is it okay to spent a month of my life in the bland and uninspiring doldrums? It's not so bad, of course, as the vast monsters of depression that swallowed me whole during my teens and spat me out again a few years ago. I hope nothing is ever that bad ever again. But now? Now is not so crash hot.

Scrolling through my archives, the explanation could be this: that I had my usual stretch of unhappy end-of-semester stress. Predictable. And ended things with a partner around the same time- only never really had time to mourn that. Was thrown head-first into essay writing and performance planning and production work. So the semester ended. The performances came and went. The conference came and went. The expectations lifted off my shoulders and for a few weeks all I had to do was go to work and live. Only, that wasn't a good thing. That was a sad and lonely thing. Struggling with my reasons for ending things with my lover. Struggling to decide what was good for me and what was bad for me and what's the difference anyway? Edging around the possibilities of women, none of whom (let's face it) are really particularly appropriate for me.

And now it's uni again. Work again. Friendships stained with dead, dry anger that keeps re-gripping me after a year now of being angry. Relationships that I know I can't sustain. Wondering if I can settle for good enough. And on top of it all trying to find the momentum to organise the biggest adventure of my life- which, right now, seems like the stupidest idea I've ever had.

There is never an obvious way out of this. The problem with the grey and awful is that it is entirely self-perpetuating. In my unhappiness I close myself inwards. Feel stupid when I talk to people. Strive too hard for magical moments and come crashing back down too heavily. Pin too much hope on people who will not justify it.

Perhaps I should take this sadness and make a little pet of it. A lap-dog perhaps. Keep it with me and not need to talk about it. Slowly perhaps become distracted- is that the way this usually ends? By thinking about other things until one day I look back and that constant companion is gone? Until next time.

Here's to hoping I find the right distractions and leave the wrong ones. And that I can tell the difference.

- |+

[Phone Home] - 2005-02-22

[She hurts, even from here, she hurts.] - 2005-02-11

[Two weeks and counting] - 2005-01-31

[Dirty] - 2005-01-20

[Here Now] - 2005-01-18