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Is the glass half happy or half sad?

13 October, 2014

There is a divergence in my mental state recently, as though my emotional self is standing with one foot on a boat which is slowly drifting away from the bank. Which way will I go? To sea or back to shore? Or will I end up in the water?

To the outsider, to those I socialise with and to some extent those I work with, I am a lot happier lately. I engage more with people, I talk more, I listen more. And I think that during those times I am genuinely more content, more emotionally settled and the black dog isn’t on my shoulder. So maybe that perception of me is right.

But when I’m on my own – which, as a single person living alone who shies away from socialising much, is a lot of the time – I feel myself sinking lower than I have done for a long time. I’m lonely and unhappy (the two aren’t linked, I don’t believe, just happen to co-exist), and less inclined to do anything about either of these. My enthusiasm for anything at all is at an all time low. I sleep in later, I go to bed earlier, I snooze during the day at weekends and during the evening on work days. It is an enormous effort to leave the house if I don’t have work or some other unavoidable commitment. Cooking seems like a tedious chore – why waste an hour making something, even something nice, that will be gone in five minutes, leaving behind only a tower of dishes that will take another half hour to wash – when I can heat something frozen or just eat some stupidly inappropriate and unhealthy junk that isn’t a meal but is easier than cooking? You get the idea. Maybe this is the person I am.

So which of these two extending extremes is the default me? Am I a more together person who inbetween suffers darker darkness than before? Or am I sinking into the quicksand of depression and loneliness but sometimes manage to fool myself and others I am chirpy and happy so as to hide the truth from us all? Or maybe these two halves are both the real me?

 

And in case you were wondering, this isn’t a self-wallowing woe-is-me post. Nor is it a cry for help, or a passive aggressive attempt to make readers reassure me that everything is fine and I’m a great guy really. It’s an ordering of thoughts, a genuinely dispassionate and objective attempt to work my head out for myself. But I still don’t know. I’m 700 posts into this blogging thing, and I still don’t know.

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From → Blogging, My Head

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