Anxious & depressed, I won’t leave go of anything.
I have so far abstained from drink, which is, I suppose, something. Of late I have been hitting it a little harder and more consistently than is probably wise. It’s become a bit like breathing. Automatic, and really desirable only when you stop doing it for a minute or two.
So, until the weekend I can just stew in my own juices.
More than anything, I seem to want out of my own head.
I don’t much like the company.
I am sick of my self.
I know it’s all illusory. It’s just me. In my head, in my body. Nothing to do with the real world.
It’s the only world I got access to.