February 2nd, 2007

suspicious, sideways glance, disgusted, unimpressed

never warmed by you

The depression is somewhat different this time; it is no longer characterized by virulent self-hatred. It seems to be more situational in nature, as I am far from satisfied with the current state of my environment. Instead of spending my time telling myself that I am a waste of good air, I try to ignore that I am feeling miserable, trapped, frustrated and almost excruciatingly isolated ... just as futile an act! Depression remains depression, despite its source. I have been horribly, unbearably lonely and increasingly bitter. I haven't gotten up on time in weeks, and it's getting worse, no matter how many alarms or snooze buttons that I set. I haven't touched costumes for Katsucon despite its imminent approach. I haven't the drive, haven't the interest, haven't the energy. I recently wasted a solid half-hour or more with inconsolable crying, the first such episode in months. It is difficult to feel enjoyment in life when you like yourself, but you are pretty well convinced that no one else around you cares that you exist.

I cannot do this again. I will not do this again. I am not going back down that road, for I already know very well how I hate being in a state of constant anguish, and there is absolutely no need to repeatedly return to such turmoil. I must make adjustments in how I go about my daily activities.

I think I need to have a little more faith in my "interestingness," and establish a group of friends, no matter how difficult I may find such an activity, nor how I wish to avoid attachments that might want me to stay in New City. There is no logical reason to avoid contact with others. Being depressed is just as binding as friendship, but is a hell of a lot less fun. As it stands, I feel I lose depth with each passing day. I sometimes worry that I speak no language at all. I need to regain interest and interaction with the world around me.

This is another personal challenge for me, another deep fear that I must face. It may take me a very long time. Perhaps I will move before I succeed in the task, but maybe I won't, and I need to look out for my well being now instead of hoping that a long term goal will give me the tools to solve the problem.

I will try to forge some sort of friendship through something I enjoy. Dance class doesn't allow for much talking, so the next likeliest candidates seem to be singing, theatre, art in various forms, photography or some sort of book group. I used to hate "discussing" about novels with other people, because I always felt like I could never get a word in ... but I have greatly changed in the past two years, so perhaps I might find the situation different now.

One reason I have not taken such risks before is because I dislike standing around alone at night, waiting for a bus that may not come for a half-hour or more. I feel far more vulnerable than I would like. I usually limit my photographic expeditions to daylight hours out of this "common sense," and so by the time evening rolls around, I am either somewhere near what I consider familiar territory or already there. I do not know if I can or want to silence the warning bells that ring when I am alone at night with no easy way out, therefore, I should complete the process of getting my license and the car so that I am dependent on neither bus nor person. I must work with what I am.