Tuesday, January 03, 2006

Happy New Year, Have a Mallet in the Skull

It occured to me the other day that I may be suffering from some kind of general low-grade depression when a dear friend asked me what my hopes were for 2006 and I said, "I have absolutely no expectations for this year." Now, that is just sad. I have vague dreams of taking another overseas climbing trip or meeting up with my brother and sister to snowboard, but then I remembered I don't have any money. Oh yeah, that. I am really sick of that being a problem. So maybe one of my resolutions should be "make some more money, so I can do crap I want to do."

Anyway, I can't shake off a sinking feeling that 2006 is going to suck. The first that happened to me in the new year is that I got an email from my ex boyfriend (who I was with for nearly 3 years) telling me he's engaged to Ms. Wonderful, and really, it's wonderful. It's wonderful for him, but for reasons I can't quite put my finger on, it socked me in the gullet and I spent the first minutes of my first day back at work furiously trying to blink back a hot sluice of tears that threatened to short out my keyboard as I read his really very nice and heartfelt email remembering times we had together, yadda yadda. I guess feelings of regret, guilt and sorrow have plagued me ever since that really wrenching breakup (instigated by me, in an ironic twist) and my brain or heart got stuck on loop somewhere along the way.

If you "make the right choice" by breaking up with someone, should you still be feeling terrible about it more than a year later? How is that possible, and what does it mean?

I tried volunteering, exercising like some kind of marathoner on crack, dating, not dating, having sex, abstaining from sex, drinking, not drinking, going to church, doubting God, being manic and being sedate. All to no or little avail. I used to be a happy person, or at least I experienced upswings to offset the bleaker times.

This has been going on for over a year, maybe it's time for Prozac. Can someone send me some? Thanks.


Blogger Guy said...

Life is pretty damn hard, isn't it? I've come to terms with this recently too, it just isn't the cakewalk we always thought it would be when we were kids. I would ask why they don't warn us about it when we are children, but I already know the answer--we wouldn't listen or wouldn't understand. I can send you some Cymbalta. My shrink prescribed it to me, but it made me sleepy, and since I already have little incentive to get out of bed, I took myself off it, but have plenty extra for a big party.

11:53 PM  

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